September 1, 2019

AFTER last Saturday’s chaos at Waverley, and a summer during which nearly one in four of the services on the…</s>March 19 (UPI) -- One Iceland's most famous ancient poems describes the eruption of the Eldgjá volcano, linking the apocalyptic conditions -- the thick haze of gas and massive lava flows -- with the abandonment of the pagan gods and the acceptance of a new, singular god.

Now, researchers have pinpointed the timing of the eruption described by the epic poem, Voluspá, the "prophecy of the seeress."

Researchers in Europe collected and analyzed ice cores from Greenland, which trapped evidence of the ash emitted by Eldgjá. The data, detailed in the journal Climate Change, suggests the volcanic eruption began in the spring of 939 AD and lasted until at least the fall of 940 AD -- less than a century after the Vikings and Celts first settled the island.

"This places the eruption squarely within the experience of the first two or three generations of Iceland's settlers," Clive Oppenheimer, a geographer at the University of Cambridge, said in a news release. "Some of the first wave of migrants to Iceland, brought over as children, may well have witnessed the eruption."

Iceland specializes in a type of volcanic eruption known as a lava flood. The Eldgjá lava flood featured huge lava flows, which spread out across much of southern Iceland. A thick haze of sulphuric gases hung over the island.

Analysis of tree rings across the Northern Hemisphere suggests the haze from the Eldgjá eruption spread out across Europe and Asia, reducing sunlight and altering the global climate patterns.

"In 940, summer cooling was most pronounced in Central Europe, Scandinavia, the Canadian Rockies, Alaska and Central Asia, with summer average temperatures 2 degrees Celsius lower," said Markus Stoffel, an earth science professor at the University of Geneva.

Though researchers have no historical records of the eruption's aftermath in Iceland, the impact was likely significant.

"The effects of the Eldgjá eruption must have been devastating for the young colony on Iceland -- very likely, land was abandoned and famine severe," said Andy Orchard, an English professor at the University of Oxford.

The memory of the Eldgjá lived on in the island's culture and poetic lore, however, and only a few decades later, the Voluspá poem, which can be dated to as far back as 961 AD, credits the Eldgjá fallout with paving the way for Iceland's conversion to Christianity.

"The sun starts to turn black, land sinks into sea; the bright stars scatter from the sky," the poem reads. "Steam spurts up with what nourishes life, flame flies high against heaven itself."

The portentous conditions marked the end of Iceland's belief in pagan gods and the arrival of a new, singular god.

"The poem's interpretation as a prophecy of the end of the pagan gods and their replacement by the one, singular god, suggests that memories of this terrible volcanic eruption were purposefully provoked to stimulate the Christianization of Iceland," Oppenheimer said.</s>A team of scientists and medieval historians, led by the University of Cambridge, has used information contained within ice cores and tree rings to accurately date a massive volcanic eruption, which took place soon after the island was first settled.

Having dated the eruption, the researchers found that Iceland's most celebrated medieval poem, which describes the end of the pagan gods and the coming of a new, singular god, describes the eruption and uses memories of it to stimulate the Christianisation of Iceland. The results are reported in the journal Climatic Change.

The eruption of the Eldgjá in the tenth century is known as a lava flood: a rare type of prolonged volcanic eruption in which huge flows of lava engulf the landscape, accompanied by a haze of sulphurous gases. Iceland specialises in this type of eruption - the last example occurred in 2015, and it affected air quality 1400 kilometres away in Ireland.

The Eldgjá lava flood affected southern Iceland within a century of the island's settlement by Vikings and Celts around 874, but until now the date of the eruption has been uncertain, hindering investigation of its likely impacts. It was a colossal event with around 20 cubic kilometres of lava erupted - enough to cover all of England up to the ankles.

The Cambridge-led team pinpointed the date of the eruption using ice core records from Greenland that preserve the volcanic fallout from Eldgjá. Using the clues contained within the ice cores, the researchers found that the eruption began around the spring of 939 and continued at least through the autumn of 940.

"This places the eruption squarely within the experience of the first two or three generations of Iceland's settlers," said first author Dr Clive Oppenheimer of Cambridge's Department of Geography. "Some of the first wave of migrants to Iceland, brought over as children, may well have witnessed the eruption."

Once they had a date for the Eldgjá eruption, the team then investigated its consequences. First, a haze of sulphurous dust spread across Europe, recorded as sightings of an exceptionally blood-red and weakened Sun in Irish, German and Italian chronicles from the same period.

Then the climate cooled as the dust layer reduced the amount of sunlight reaching the surface, which is evident from tree rings from across the Northern Hemisphere. The evidence contained in the tree rings suggests the eruption triggered one of the coolest summers of the last 1500 years. "In 940, summer cooling was most pronounced in Central Europe, Scandinavia, the Canadian Rockies, Alaska and Central Asia, with summer average temperatures 2°C lower," said co-author Professor Markus Stoffel from the University of Geneva's Department of Earth Sciences.

The team then looked at medieval chronicles to see how the cooling climate impacted society. "It was a massive eruption, but we were still amazed just how abundant the historical evidence is for the eruption's consequences," said co-author Dr Tim Newfield, from Georgetown University's Departments of History and Biology. "Human suffering in the wake of Eldgjá was widespread. From northern Europe to northern China, people experienced long, hard winters and severe spring-summer drought. Locust infestations and livestock mortalities occurred. Famine did not set in everywhere, but in the early 940s we read of starvation and vast mortality in parts of Germany, Iraq and China."

"The effects of the Eldgjá eruption must have been devastating for the young colony on Iceland - very likely, land was abandoned and famine severe," said co-author Professor Andy Orchard from the University of Oxford's Faculty of English. "However, there are no surviving texts from Iceland itself during this time that provide us with direct accounts of the eruption."

But Iceland's most celebrated medieval poem, Voluspá ('The prophecy of the seeress') does appear to give an impression of what the eruption was like. The poem, which can be dated as far back as 961, foretells the end of Iceland's pagan gods and the coming of a new, singular god: in other words, the conversion of Iceland to Christianity, which was formalised around the turn of the eleventh century.

Part of the poem describes a terrible eruption with fiery explosions lighting up the sky, and the Sun obscured by thick clouds of ash and steam:

"The sun starts to turn black, land sinks into sea; the bright stars scatter from the sky. Steam spurts up with what nourishes life, flame flies high against heaven itself."

The poem also depicts cold summers that would be expected after a massive eruption, and the researchers link these descriptions to the spectacle and impacts of the Eldgjá eruption, the largest in Iceland since its settlement.

The poem's apocalyptic imagery marks the fiery end to the world of the old gods. The researchers suggest that these lines in the poem may have been intended to rekindle harrowing memories of the eruption to stimulate the massive religious and cultural shift taking place in Iceland in the last decades of the tenth century.

"With a firm date for the eruption, many entries in medieval chronicles snap into place as likely consequences - sightings in Europe of an extraordinary atmospheric haze; severe winters; and cold summers, poor harvests; and food shortages," said Oppenheimer. "But most striking is the almost eyewitness style in which the eruption is depicted in Voluspá. The poem's interpretation as a prophecy of the end of the pagan gods and their replacement by the one, singular god, suggests that memories of this terrible volcanic eruption were purposefully provoked to stimulate the Christianisation of Iceland."

Explore further: Tree rings pinpoint eruption of Icelandic volcano to half a century before human settlement

More information: Clive Oppenheimer et al, The Eldgjá eruption: timing, long-range impacts and influence on the Christianisation of Iceland, Climatic Change (2018). DOI: 10.1007/s10584-018-2171-9</s>A huge volcanic eruption helped convert Iceland's Vikings to Christianity more than a thousand years ago, according to new research.

The eruption produced the country's largest ever lava flood and was recorded in a medieval poem used to drive the island's conversion to Christianity, the study claims.

Scientists used information contained within ice cores and tree rings to date the massive Eldgjá eruption, which took place soon after the island was first settled.

Having dated the eruption, the researchers found that Iceland’s most celebrated medieval poem, the Voluspá, contained a description of the event.

The poem also describes the end of the pagan gods and the coming of a new, singular god, and was a key text in the Christianisation of Iceland.

Until now, the date of the eruption had been uncertain, hindering investigation of its likely impacts, but scientists now believe it helped to push the country away from the Nordic gods of old.

The 10th Century eruption of volcano Eldgjá left the island covered in huge swathes of lava as it belched huge amounts of sulphurous gas and ash.

It was a colossal event with around five cubic miles (20 cubic kilometres) of lava erupted - enough to cover all of England up to ankle-height.

The Eldgjá lava flood affected southern Iceland within a century of the island's settlement by Vikings and Celts around 874AD.

A team of scientists and historians, led by Cambridge University scholars, used information contained within ice cores and tree rings to accurately date the eruption.

They found the event began around the spring of 939AD and continued at least through the autumn of 940AD.

Co-author Prof Andy Orchard, of Oxford University's Faculty of English, said: 'The effects of the Eldgjá eruption must have been devastating for the young colony on Iceland - very likely, land was abandoned and famine severe.

'However, there are no surviving texts from Iceland itself during this time that provide us with direct accounts of the eruption.'

But Iceland's most celebrated medieval poem, Voluspá, could paint a dramatic picture of the event, according to a team of researchers.

Heralded as 'The prophecy of the seeress' it has been dated as far back as 961AD.

It reads: 'The sun starts to turn black, land sinks into sea; the bright stars scatter from the sky. Steam spurts up with what nourishes life, flame flies high against heaven itself'.

The poem also depicts cold summers that would be expected after a massive eruption, and the researchers link these descriptions to the spectacle and impacts of the Eldgjá eruption, the largest in Iceland since its settlement.

The poem's apocalyptic imagery marks the fiery end to the world of the old gods and the coming of a new, singular god.

This move towards a single deity spells out the conversion of the Vikings to Christianity, which was formalised as Iceland's principle religion around the turn of the 11th Century.

The researchers suggest Voluspá may have been intended to rekindle harrowing memories of the Eldgjá eruption to stimulate the massive religious and cultural shift taking place in Iceland at the time.

'This places the eruption squarely within the experience of the first two or three generations of Iceland's settlers,' said lead author Dr Clive Oppenheimer of Cambridge's Department of Geography.

'Some of the first wave of migrants to Iceland, brought over as children, may well have witnessed the eruption.'

Once they had a date for the Eldgjá eruption, the team then investigated its consequences.

The volcanologists found that first, a haze of sulphurous dust spread across Europe.

In Irish, German and Italian chronicles from the same period, there were several reports of an exceptionally blood-red and weakened sun.

The huge ash cloud produced in Iceland reduced the sunlight in around much of the northern hemisphere.

Dr Oppenheimer added: 'With a firm date for the eruption, many entries in medieval chronicles snap into place as likely consequences - sightings in Europe of an extraordinary atmospheric haze; severe winters; and cold summers, poor harvests; and food shortages.

'But most striking is the almost eyewitness style in which the eruption is depicted in Voluspá.

'The poem's interpretation as a prophecy of the end of the pagan gods and their replacement by the one, singular god, suggests that memories of this terrible volcanic eruption were purposefully provoked to stimulate the Christianisation of Iceland.'

Analysis of tree rings showed that the volcanic eruption caused one of the coolest summers of the last 1,500 years.

'In 940, summer cooling was most pronounced in Central Europe, Scandinavia, the Canadian Rockies, Alaska and Central Asia, with summer average temperatures 2°C lower,' said co-author Professor Markus Stoffel from the University of Geneva's Department of Earth Sciences.

The impact this had on people around the world was widespread and devastating.

Effects of the eruption were felt as far afield as Iraq, Canada and China as hoards of locusts swept in at the same time that famine killed droves of people in the Northern hemisphere.

Iceland specialises in this type of eruption - the last example occurred in 2015, affecting air quality 900 miles (1,400 kilometres) away in Ireland.

Study co-author Dr Tim Newfield, of Georgetown University in the US, said: 'It was a massive eruption, but we were still amazed just how abundant the historical evidence is for the eruption's consequence.

'From northern Europe to northern China, people experienced long, hard winters and severe spring-summer drought.

'Locust infestations and livestock mortalities occurred. Famine did not set in everywhere, but in the early 940s we read of starvation and vast mortality in parts of Germany, Iraq and China.'</s>New research connects a powerful volcanic eruption—and a medieval poem that conjured memories of the dreaded event—to Iceland’s conversion to Christianity.

At the turn of the 11th century, Iceland’s settlers formally replaced Odin, Thor, and Freya with Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. A new paper published in Climatic Change suggests memories of the Eldgjá lava flood—the largest volcanic eruption to hit Iceland in the past 2,000 years—convinced Icelanders to turn away from their Norse gods and embrace Christianity. This conclusion, reached by scientists from the University of Cambridge, was made possible by establishing a firm date for the eruption, and a reinterpretation of a grim poem called Vǫluspá, meaning “the prophecy of the seeress.”

Prior to the new study, scientists knew about the terrible Eldgjá lava flood, but they couldn’t figure out when it actually happened. Estimates placed the eruption anywhere from 932 through to 939, with a best guess at 934 based on scattered evidence. To finally get it right, a research team, led by Clive Oppenheimer, collected data from ice cores and tree rings, showing that the eruption started in the spring of 939, and continued until autumn 940.

Indeed, the Eldgjá lava flood, as its name and duration suggests, wasn’t any ordinary eruption. It happened in the southern region of Iceland along a 75-km-long (46 miles) fissure linked to the Katla volcano. The eruption threw massive amounts of lava onto the land, while spewing sulphurous gases into the atmosphere. An estimated 20 cubic kilometers of magma poured from the cracks.

Needless to say, the eruption had an impact on Iceland’s inhabitants, who began to settle the island around 874.

“This places the eruption squarely within the experience of the first two or three generations of Iceland’s settlers,” said Oppenheimer in a statement. “Some of the first wave of migrants to Iceland, brought over as children, may well have witnessed the eruption.”

The settlers likely abandoned much of the island, or relocated elsewhere, as famine was probably severe, but no texts survived to tell us exactly what happened. But that’s where the poem could help, the researchers claim. A certain reading of Vǫluspá, dated to around 961, seems to paint an apocalyptic scene of the conditions both during and after the eruption—and even the onset of a cold volcanic winter (which was felt around the globe). 



[The wolf] is filled with the life-blood of doomed men, reddens the powers’ dwellings with ruddy gore; the sun-beams turn black the following summers, weather all woeful: do you know yet, or what? The sun starts to turn black, land sinks into sea; the bright stars scatter from the sky. Steam spurts up with what nourishes life, flame flies high against heaven itself.

The poem also predicts the end of Iceland’s Norse gods, and the rise of a new, singular deity. Could this be construed as the conversion of Iceland to Christianity? The researchers think it’s a distinct possibility.

“With a firm date for the eruption, many entries in medieval chronicles snap into place as likely consequences—sightings in Europe of an extraordinary atmospheric haze; severe winters; and cold summers, poor harvests; and food shortages,” said Oppenheimer. “But most striking is the almost eyewitness style in which the eruption is depicted in Voluspá. The poem’s interpretation as a prophecy of the end of the pagan gods and their replacement by the one, singular god, suggests that memories of this terrible volcanic eruption were purposefully provoked to stimulate the Christianisation of Iceland.”

That accounts of a severe volcanic eruption—one still seared in memory—were used to fuel theological debate and proselytize Icelanders in the 10th century is not as outlandish as it may appear. The arguments may have sounded quite compelling, and the new religion may have offered some solace and reassurance. Oppenheimer and his colleagues present a good case, but like anything, there’s likely more to it than a scary poem. The reasons for Iceland’s conversion to Christianity are complex and multifaceted—the story of a horrible volcano quite possibly being among the many reasons why the Norse gods were abandoned.</s>It is easy to draw a connection between the imagery of hell, as written in the Bible (think “fire and brimstone”) and the real-life phenomenon of volcanic eruptions that take place on Earth (the fact that some may consider the planet itself hell doesn’t make it the biblical hell). Fire, the smell of sulfur, and lightning all occur when volcanoes erupt, and Christian preachers have invoked the imagery when exhorting masses to repent for their sins or face eternal damnation.

As it turns out, this was used very effectively in the 10th and 11th centuries in the conversion of Iceland to Christianity from the paganism that was followed there earlier, or so a new study suggests. This was based on the study of ice cores and tree rings to establish the time when the largest lava flow in Iceland’s history occurred, and a look at the most celebrated medieval poem from the country, Vǫluspá.

The Eldgjá volcano is in southern Iceland whose volcanic canyon, or fissure, is the longest in the world, at 40 kilometers (about 25 miles). An eruption in the 10th century caused the largest lava flood — an otherwise rare type of volcanic eruption that is common in Iceland — in the country’s recorded history. A lava flood is a “prolonged volcanic eruption in which huge flows of lava engulf the landscape, accompanied by a haze of sulfurous gases,” and the massive eruption over 1,000 years ago would have spewed enough lava to cover the entire island nation in a layer 20 centimeters deep.

The island was settled by Vikings and Celts in about 874 CE, and using evidence of volcanic fallout, as recorded in ice cores from not-too-distant Greenland, researchers — led by Clive Oppenheimer from the University of Cambridge, United Kingdom — concluded that the Eldgjá eruption “began around the spring of 939 [CE] and continued at least through the autumn of 940 [CE].”

Called “The prophecy of the seeress” in English, Vǫluspá was written at least as far back as 961 CE, and describes what are likely the eruption and its aftermath, and is the only known text from Iceland to do so.

“The sun starts to turn black, land sinks into sea; the bright stars scatter from the sky.



Steam spurts up with what nourishes life, flame flies high against heaven itself.”

Vǫluspá also speaks of cold summers that followed the massive eruption (volcanic ash covered the sky, reducing the amount of sunlight that reached Earth, causing widespread loss of livestock and farmland, particularly in Iceland itself, but felt in most places across the planet) and all the end-of-the-world imagery was used in prophesizing the exit of the many pagan gods, and the coming of a singular god.

Since the conversion of Iceland to Christianity was formalized some 30 to 50 years later, researchers suggested the poem used apocalyptic imagery “to rekindle harrowing memories of the eruption to stimulate the massive religious and cultural shift taking place in Iceland in the last decades of the tenth century.”

“The poem’s interpretation as a prophecy of the end of the pagan gods and their replacement by the one, singular god, suggests that memories of this terrible volcanic eruption were purposefully provoked to stimulate the Christianisation of Iceland,” Oppenheimer said in a statement Monday.

The open-access paper, coauthored by researchers from other European countries, as well as some from the United States, appeared online Monday in the journal Climatic Change, titled “The Eldgjá eruption: timing, long-range impacts and influence on the Christianisation of Iceland.”</s>In Iceland, in 939 CE, the sky suddenly went dark and the Earth began to glow a hideous orange.

The locals – so recent to the land that they still told fresh tales of their parents and grandparents arriving from Norway fewer than 70 years earlier – had no idea why or how their country roared and flared and then, in weeks, grew cold and hazy.

Within a couple of decades, however, the poets and philosophers among them had worked it out: the old Norse gods were dead and a new singular deity had arisen.

That’s the theory put forward by a team of researchers led by geographer Clive Oppenheimer from the University of Cambridge in the UK, which for the first time pinpoints the date of a massive volcanic eruption and the advent of one of Iceland’s most influential epic poems, or sagas.

In a paper published in the journal Climatic Change, Oppenheimer and colleagues report using ice core data from Greenland to pinpoint the date of the eruption of Iceland’s Eldgjá volcano.

The eruption and its widespread after-effects are mentioned in several early literature sources from Ireland, Germany, Egypt and even China, but such is the nature of early Medieval documents – often surviving in copied versions, or fragments – that precise dating is impossible. By assessing sulfur concentrations in core samples, the scientists pinpointed the initial eruption to the northern spring of 939 CE and established that it continued, perhaps sporadically, until the autumn of 940.

Severe winters caused by the massive clouds of particles thrown up by the violent eruption went on for many years, causing ongoing suffering and hardship.



“Human suffering in the wake of Eldgjá was widespread,” says co-author Tim Newfield. “From northern Europe to northern China, people experienced long, hard winters and severe spring-summer drought.

“Locust infestations and livestock mortalities occurred. Famine did not set in everywhere, but in the early 940s we read of starvation and vast mortality in parts of Germany, Iraq and China.” 



Nowhere, of course, was more terribly affected than Iceland itself. The colony was young, and no doubt hit by famine and the loss of land only recently occupied. Yet no unambiguous direct references, if there ever were any, have survived in the local literature.

When reportage is absent, however, allegory fills the void. Oppenheimer and his team point to an influential and apocalyptic Icelandic epic poem, called Voluspá – The Prophecy of the Seeress – which has been dated to at least as far back as 961CE.

The saga tells the story of a prophetess who was raised by the great god Odin from the dead. The prophetess tells of the death of the pagan pantheon and its replacement by a new solo deity.



The language of the saga, Oppenheimer and colleagues argue, suggests that the writer (or writers) were strongly influenced by earlier eye-witness accounts of the volcanic eruption.

“The sun starts to turn black,” runs the poem, in one example, “land sinks into the sea; the bright stars scatter from the sky. Steam spurts up with what nourishes life, flame flies high against heaven itself.”

The researchers suggest that the eruption and its interpretation in the Voluspá functioned “as a catalyst for the profound cultural change brought about by conversion to Christianity”.

The early Icelandic colony, they note, contained a small number of Christians from its very start, and by 999 CE Christianity was the official religion on the island.

They note, too, that in a later saga, Kristni, which tells the tale of Iceland’s religious conversion, part of the narrative turns on the arrival of a man reporting a volcanic eruption. Both pagans and Christians in the saga interpret the eruption as a sign of godly displeasure.

It is likely a distant reference, the scientists conclude, to the Eldgjá eruption.</s>A massive volcanic eruption helped convert Iceland's Vikings to Christianity more than a thousand years ago, according to new research.

Memories of the largest lava flood in the history of Iceland, recorded in a medieval poem, were used to drive the island's conversion to Christianity, suggests the study.

A team of scientists and historians, led by Cambridge University researchers, has used information contained within ice cores and tree rings to accurately date the massive eruption, which took place soon after the island was first settled.

Having dated the eruption, the researchers found that Iceland's most celebrated medieval poem, which describes the end of the pagan gods and the coming of a new, singular god, describes the eruption and uses memories of it to stimulate the Christianisation of Iceland.

The eruption of the Eldgjá in the 10th Century is known as a lava flood: a rare type of prolonged volcanic eruption in which huge flows of lava engulf the landscape, accompanied by a haze of sulphurous gases.

Iceland specialises in this type of eruption - the last example occurred in 2015, and it affected air quality hundreds of miles away in Ireland.</s>CAMBRIDGE, ENGLAND—According to a Live Science report, researchers led by volcanologist Clive Oppenheimer of the University of Cambridge examined ice cores and tree ring data from Iceland, in order to calculate precise dates for the medieval eruption of the Eldgjá volcano, and determine whether the massive lava flood and sulphurous gases emitted by the eruption could have been witnessed by the Viking and Celtic migrants who settled Iceland in A.D. 874. The study indicates the lava flowed from the spring of A.D. 939 through the autumn of 940. These dates also correspond with records of haze, cold summers, and food shortages in Europe. Oppenheimer says the dates indicate that some of Iceland’s first settlers, and perhaps two generations of their descendants, may have witnessed and survived the cataclysm, and eventually translated their experiences, including the ensuing devastation and famine, into the Voluspá, a poem written around A.D. 961. It describes a volcanic eruption and meteorological events signifying the end of the island’s pagan gods and is credited with paving the way for the Christianization of Iceland. To read more about archaeology in Iceland, go to “The Blackener’s Cave.”</s>Researchers from the University of Cambridge found evidence that Iceland's conversion to Christianity was linked to a massive eruption shortly after the island was settled. A combination of geologic data, cultural records from across Europe, and an iconic medieval poem fit together to tell the story of Iceland's early settled years.

To put the entire story into context, the research team studied ice cores from Greenland and tree rings to precisely date the year-long eruption of Eldgjá in the tenth century. The use of glaciochemical records and precise dating revealed that the eruption of Eldgjá began in the spring of 939 and lasted until at least the fall of 940.

Using 939 as a starting point, the research team dug into cultural and historical records from Iceland and Europe during this time. What they found is that Iceland's most celebrated poem, Voluspá ('The prophecy of the seeress'), depicts the eruption which blanketed Iceland. The poem describes the end of pagan gods in Iceland and the introduction of a new singular God, marking the beginning of Christianisation in Iceland.

The eruption of Eldgjá was a lava flood, which produced prolonged lava flows across the island, literally flooding the landscape with lava. The total volume erupted over the year plus long eruption would cover England in several inches of lava. This eruption was accompanied by a release of deadly sulfurous gas and ash in the lower atmosphere.

The earliest settlers of Iceland, a combination of Vikings and Celts around 874, were exposed to this massive eruption just two or three generations after inhabiting the island. This led to a massive cultural, health, and economic impact on the settlers during the early years.

The eruption was chronicled across Europe with accounts of a weakened blood-red Sun, cool summer, bitterly cold winter, drought, famine, and locust infestations. By the 940s there was widespread starvation and death from northern Europe to northern China.

The iconic Voluspá poem both depicts the apocalyptic eruption and marks the end of the old gods. The poem suggests the memory and experience of this widespread and deadly volcanic eruption was used to provoke the conversion the Christianity in Iceland at the turn of the 10th century.

Below is the entire unabridged 66 stanzas of the iconic Voluspá poem:

Hearing I ask | from the holy races,

From Heimdall's sons, | both high and low;

I remember yet | the giants of yore,

Who gave me bread | in the days gone by;

Nine worlds I knew, | the nine in the tree

Of old was the age | when Ymir lived;

Sea nor cool waves | nor sand there were;

Earth had not been, | nor heaven above,

But a yawning gap, | and grass nowhere.

Mithgarth the mighty | there they made;

The sun from the south | warmed the stones of earth,

And green was the ground | with growing leeks.

The sun, the sister | of the moon, from the south

Her right hand cast | over heaven's rim;

No knowledge she had | where her home should be,

The moon knew not | what might was his,

The stars knew not | where their stations were.

Then sought the gods | their assembly-seats,

The holy ones, | and council held;

Names then gave they | to noon and twilight,

Morning they named, | and the waning moon,

Night and evening, | the years to number.

Forges they set, and | they smithied ore,

Tongs they wrought, | and tools they fashioned.

In their dwellings at peace | they played at tables,

Of gold no lack | did the gods then know,--

Till thither came | up giant-maids three,

Huge of might, | out of Jotunheim.

Then sought the gods | their assembly-seats,

The holy ones, | and council held,

To find who should raise | the race of dwarfs

Out of Brimir's blood | and the legs of Blain.

There was Motsognir | the mightiest made

Of all the dwarfs, | and Durin next;

Many a likeness | of men they made,

The dwarfs in the earth, | as Durin said.

Nyr and Nyrath,-- | now have I told--

The race of the dwarfs | in Dvalin's throng

Down to Lofar | the list must I tell;

The rocks they left, | and through wet lands

They sought a home | in the fields of sand.

There were Draupnir | and Dolgthrasir,

So for all time | shall the tale be known,

The list of all | the forbears of Lofar.

Then from the throng | did three come forth,

From the home of the gods, | the mighty and gracious;

Two without fate | on the land they found,

Ask and Embla, | empty of might.

Soul they had not, | sense they had not,

An ash I know, | Yggdrasil its name,

With water white | is the great tree wet;

Thence come the dews | that fall in the dales,

Green by Urth's well | does it ever grow.

Thence come the maidens | mighty in wisdom,

Three from the dwelling | down 'neath the tree;

Urth is one named, | Verthandi the next,--

On the wood they scored,-- | and Skuld the third.

Laws they made there, and life allotted

To the sons of men, and set their fates.

The war I remember, | the first in the world,

When the gods with spears | had smitten Gollveig,

And in the hall | of Hor had burned her,

Three times burned, | and three times born,

Oft and again, | yet ever she lives.

Heith they named her | who sought their home,

Minds she bewitched | that were moved by her magic,

To evil women | a joy she was.

On the host his spear | did Othin hurl,

Then in the world | did war first come;

The wall that girdled | the gods was broken,

And the field by the warlike | Wanes was trodden.

Then sought the gods | their assembly-seats,

The holy ones, | and council held,

Whether the gods | should tribute give,

Or to all alike | should worship belong.

Then sought the gods | their assembly-seats,

The holy ones, | and council held,

To find who with venom | the air had filled,

Or had given Oth's bride | to the giants' brood.

In swelling rage | then rose up Thor,--

Seldom he sits | when he such things hears,--

And the oaths were broken, | the words and bonds,

The mighty pledges | between them made.

I know of the horn | of Heimdall, hidden

On it there pours | from Valfather's pledge

A mighty stream: | would you know yet more?

Alone I sat | when the Old One sought me,

The terror of gods, | and gazed in mine eyes:

"What hast thou to ask? | why comest thou hither?

Othin, I know | where thine eye is hidden."

I know where Othin's | eye is hidden,

Deep in the wide-famed | well of Mimir;

Mead from the pledge | of Othin each mom

Does Mimir drink: | would you know yet more?

Necklaces had I | and rings from Heerfather,

Wise was my speech | and my magic wisdom;

Widely I saw | over all the worlds.

On all sides saw I | Valkyries assemble,

Ready to ride | to the ranks of the gods;

Skuld bore the shield, | and Skogul rode next,

Of Herjan's maidens | the list have ye heard,

I saw for Baldr, | the bleeding god,

The son of Othin, | his destiny set:

Famous and fair | in the lofty fields,

From the branch which seemed | so slender and fair

Came a harmful shaft | that Hoth should hurl;

But the brother of Baldr | was born ere long,

And one night old | fought Othin's son.

His hands he washed not, | his hair he combed not,

Till he bore to the bale-blaze | Baldr's foe.

But in Fensalir | did Frigg weep sore

For Valhall's need: | would you know yet more?

One did I see | in the wet woods bound,

A lover of ill, | and to Loki like;

By his side does Sigyn | sit, nor is glad

To see her mate: | would you know yet more?

From the east there pours | through poisoned vales

With swords and daggers | the river Slith.

Of gold there rose | for Sindri's race;

And in Okolnir | another stood,

Where the giant Brimir | his beer-hall had.

A hall I saw, | far from the sun,

On Nastrond it stands, | and the doors face north,

Venom drops | through the smoke-vent down,

For around the walls | do serpents wind.

I saw there wading | through rivers wild

And workers of ill | with the wives of men;

There Nithhogg sucked | the blood of the slain,

And the wolf tore men; | would you know yet more?

The giantess old | in Ironwood sat,

In the east, and bore | the brood of Fenrir;

Among these one | in monster's guise

Was soon to steal | the sun from the sky.

There feeds he full | on the flesh of the dead,

And the home of the gods | he reddens with gore;

Dark grows the sun, | and in summer soon

Come mighty storms: | would you know yet more?

On a hill there sat, | and smote on his harp,

Above him the cock | in the bird-wood crowed,

Then to the gods | crowed Gollinkambi,

He wakes the heroes | in Othin's hall;

And beneath the earth | does another crow,

The rust-red bird | at the bars of Hel.

The fetters will burst, | and the wolf run free;

Much do I know, | and more can see

Of the fate of the gods, | the mighty in fight.

Brothers shall fight | and fell each other,

Hard is it on earth, | with mighty whoredom;

Nor ever shall men | each other spare.

Fast move the sons | of Mim, and fate

Is heard in the note | of the Gjallarhorn;

In fear quake all | who on Hel-roads are.

The ancient limbs, | and the giant is loose;

To the head of Mim | does Othin give heed,

But the kinsman of Surt | shall slay him soon.

How fare the gods? | how fare the elves?

All Jotunheim groans, | the gods are at council;

Loud roar the dwarfs | by the doors of stone,

The masters of the rocks: | would you know yet more?

The fetters will burst, | and the wolf run free

Much do I know, | and more can see

Of the fate of the gods, | the mighty in fight.

From the east comes Hrym | with shield held high;

In giant-wrath | does the serpent writhe;

O'er the waves he twists, | and the tawny eagle

O'er the sea from the north | there sails a ship

With the people of Hel, | at the helm stands Loki;

After the wolf | do wild men follow,

And with them the brother | of Byleist goes.

Surt fares from the south | with the scourge of branches,

The sun of the battle-gods | shone from his sword;

The crags are sundered, | the giant-women sink,

The dead throng Hel-way, | and heaven is cloven.

Now comes to Hlin | yet another hurt,

When Othin fares | to fight with the wolf,

For there must fall | the joy of Frigg.

Vithar, to fight | with the foaming wolf;

In the giant's son | does he thrust his sword

Full to the heart: | his father is avenged.

Hither there comes | the son of Hlothyn,

The bright snake gapes | to heaven above;

Against the serpent | goes Othin's son.

In anger smites | the warder of earth,--

Forth from their homes | must all men flee;-

Nine paces fares | the son of Fjorgyn,

And, slain by the serpent, | fearless he sinks.

The sun turns black, | earth sinks in the sea,

The hot stars down | from heaven are whirled;

Fierce grows the steam | and the life-feeding flame,

The fetters will burst, | and the wolf run free;

Much do I know, | and more can see

Of the fate of the gods, | the mighty in fight.

Now do I see | the earth anew

Rise all green | from the waves again;

The cataracts fall, | and the eagle flies,

And fish he catches | beneath the cliffs.

The gods in Ithavoll | meet together,

Of the terrible girdler | of earth they talk,

And the mighty past | they call to mind,

And the ancient runes | of the Ruler of Gods.

In wondrous beauty | once again

Shall the golden tables | stand mid the grass,

Which the gods had owned | in the days of old,

All ills grow better, | and Baldr comes back;

And the mighty gods: | would you know yet more?

And the sons of the brothers | of Tveggi abide

In Vindheim now: | would you know yet more?

More fair than the sun, | a hall I see,

Roofed with gold, | on Gimle it stands;

There shall the righteous | rulers dwell,

And happiness ever | there shall they have.

There comes on high, | all power to hold,

From below the dragon | dark comes forth,

The bodies of men on | his wings he bears,

The serpent bright: | but now must I sink.
Analysis of ancient ice cores extracted from Greenland dates an eruption on Eldgjá volcano in Iceland. Iceland's largest eruption in the last 2,000 years was described in ancient poem Völuspá.