OLAF TRYGGVESSON (995-1000).
King Olaf's first endeavor, after having ascended the throne, was to
Christianize the country. He was by nature well adapted for this task,
being zealous in the faith, resolute, and uncompromising. Where gentle
means did not avail he had no hesitation in employing sword and fire.
Vehement as he was by temperament, brooking no argument, he wasted no
time in weighing the probabilities of success or failure, but in the
conviction of the sanctity of his cause stormed resistlessly onward and
by his impetuosity and ardor, bore down all opposition. His first
appearance as the champion of the new religion was in Viken, where he
called his relations and adherents together and told them, that it was
his intention to convert the whole kingdom of Norway to faith in Christ
the White, even though he were to lose his life in the attempt. In Viken
lived at that time his mother and his step-father, Lodin, who had a
large following of friends and relations. Some of these were, no doubt,
already Christians, or had been _primsigned_, as Christianity had,
twenty-five years before, been preached for a short time in this part of
the country by two Germans. No particular opposition was therefore
offered to the king's command, and within a brief period Olaf had the
satisfaction of seeing all of Viken--the old kingdom of his father,
Tryggve--nominally, at least, converted to Christianity. It is not to be
inferred, however, that the converts, in accepting baptism, renounced
their faith in the gods whom they had previously worshipped. On the
contrary, they continued to believe in their existence, and perhaps even
secretly to worship them. The Christian priests themselves professed
belief in Odin and Thor, but represented them as evil powers who had
been conquered by Christ and thrown into the outer darkness. As Christ
had now all power in heaven and earth, it was futile to invoke the favor
of the vanquished gods by sacrifice. In this practical shape the new
religion unquestionably appealed to many whom otherwise it could not
have reached. The relation to the old gods had been in its essence a
contract for protection and good crops, in return for certain tangible
values sacrificed. As Christianity was then preached, it was in many
respects the same thing under a different name. Prayers formerly
addressed to Odin or Frey were now addressed to Christ and the Virgin
Mary, and though offerings of horses and bullocks were discontinued, the
fragrant incense was still supposed to rise to the nostrils of the new
god and propitiate his favor. The salient and essential difference
between the old and the new faith, and the only one which the Norsemen
in the beginning vividly apprehended, was the great doctrine of peace
upon earth and good-will among men. While Odin and Thor took pleasure
in bloodshed and rejoiced in war, Christ the White loved peace and
accorded no merit to the man-slayer.
[Illustration: OLD NORSE LOOM. FROM FANE NEAR BERGEN.]
That this doctrine, though it was slow to affect the lives of the new
converts, nevertheless from generation to generation wrought a change in
the moral consciousness of the Norsemen, can scarcely be questioned. The
old Asa faith was inconsistent with any kind of civilization, because it
meant, in the end, universal destruction. As long as killing was _per
se_ meritorious and secured the favor of the gods and honor among men,
no trade but that of arms could flourish, and every peaceful industry
became impossible. In Iceland, where the spirit of the old Germanic
paganism survived, even long after the introduction of Christianity,
internecine feuds of the most atrocious character prevailed for
centuries, resulting in a gradual decadence, followed by stagnation and
decay. The result in Norway, as the subsequent narrative will show, was
scarcely better. A universal exhaustion followed the long carnival of
bloodshed, and a heavy lethargy, lasting for four hundred years, settled
upon the people.
It would be vain to pretend that Olaf Tryggvesson, when he undertook the
task of destroying the Asa faith, had any conception of the superior
sociological value of the new faith over the old. Not even the
conception of one God, instead of many, seems to have been emphasized in
the preaching of those days. On the contrary, the Christian religion was
adapted, as far as possible, to the pre-existing polytheistic notions,
and a new hierarchy, consisting of the Trinity, the Virgin Mary, and a
host of saints, was exalted as objects of worship instead of the old
gods. If the character of the religious teaching is to be inferred from
the character of the teachers, it is safe to conclude that the early
Germanic Christianity was ethically not far removed from the religion
which it came to supplant. Thus we hear much in the Saga of Olaf
Tryggvesson of a priest named Thangbrand, whose violence, pugnacity, and
readiness to kill must have made him an odd exponent of the gospel of
peace. Thangbrand was a Saxon, and had been sent north with many other
missionaries to assist in converting the Danes. Bishop Siric, of
Canterbury, presented him during a visit with a curiously wrought
shield, upon which was the image of the crucified Christ. Shortly after
this occurrence, Thangbrand made the acquaintance of Olaf Tryggvesson,
who admired the shield greatly and desired to buy it. The priest
received a munificent compensation, and finding himself suddenly rich,
went and bought a beautiful Irish girl, whose charms had beguiled him. A
German warrior who saw the girl claimed her, and when his demand was
scornfully refused challenged the priest. A duel was fought and the
German was killed. Some ill feeling was aroused against Thangbrand by
this incident, and he fled to his friend, Olaf Tryggvesson, and became
his court chaplain. As such he was under the authority of Bishop Sigurd,
an Anglo-Saxon, probably of Norse descent, whom Olaf had brought with
him from England. Bishop Sigurd was a man of grave and gentle spirit and
a striking contrast to the ferocious court chaplain.
The Christianization of Viken was followed by that of Agder. Any decided
opposition the king did not meet until he came to South Hoerdaland, where
a number of mighty chieftains had gathered in the hope of intimidating
him. His fearless and resolute behavior, however, impressed them so much
that, after some negotiations, they accepted the faith and were
baptized. In return for this concession, they demanded of the king that
he should give his sister Aastrid in marriage to the young and
high-born chief, Erling Skjalgsson of Sole; and as the king thought this
marriage in every way desirable, he gave his consent. Encouraged by his
success, Olaf hastened on to Troendelag, where was the old and
magnificent temple of Hlade, the principal sanctuary of Norse paganism.
Impelled by holy zeal, and heedless of the consequences, he broke down
the altar of the gods, burned their images, and carried off their
treasures. The Troenders promptly responded to this challenge by sending
the war-arrow [A] from house to house, and preparing to fight with the
king. Olaf, who had but a small force with him, did not venture to offer
them battle; but sailed northward to Haalogaland, where another armed
band, under the command of Thore Hjort and Haarek of Thjotta, stood
ready to receive him. As discretion was here the better part of valor,
the king was in no haste to land, but returned to Troendelag, where the
peasants in the meanwhile had dispersed, and began to build a church in
the place where the old temple had stood. He meant to show the Troenders
that he was neither discouraged nor frightened, that neither threats nor
arms could induce him to desist from his undertaking. With the desire to
strengthen his power here, where it most needed strengthening, he began
also the building of a royal residence, and laid the foundation of the
future city of Nidaros or Drontheim (996).
[Footnote A: The war-arrow (_haeroer_) was carried by every man to his
next neighbor and stuck into his door, as a sign that war was at hand.
To send or to cut the war-arrow is, therefore, to send a war message.]
At the beginning of the winter he again summoned the peasants to meet
him at the _Frostathing_, and they again responded by an armed
concourse, much greater than the preceding one. When the assembly was
called to order, the king rose and eloquently expounded the new faith,
repeating his demand that the Troenders should accept baptism and cease
to sacrifice. But he had not spoken long when the peasants began to
interrupt him by angry shouts, threatening to attack him and chase him
out of the country, unless he was silent. One of them, a chieftain named
Skegge Aasbjoernsson or Ironbeard (Jernskjegge) was especially active in
denouncing the king and exciting the people against him. Olaf came to
the conclusion that nothing was to be accomplished here by persuasion,
and he resolved reluctantly to postpone his propaganda until a more
propitious time. He then began to talk in a more conciliatory spirit;
promised the peasants to be present at their sacrificial feast at
Yule-tide, and discuss further with them the change of faith. This
promise was received with great satisfaction, and the assembly
peacefully dispersed.
Shortly before the time appointed for the sacrifice, Olaf invited the
chieftains and the most powerful peasants from all the neighboring
shires, to meet him at a feast at Hlade. He placed thirty well-manned
ships out in the fjord, where he could summon them in case of need. The
guests were royally entertained, and as the night advanced became very
drunk. In the morning the king ordered his priests to celebrate the
mass, and a crowd of armed men arrived from the ships to attend the
religious service. The guests, who were scarcely in a condition to
profit by the worship, observed with growing uneasiness the size of the
congregation. When the service was at an end, the king rose and
addressed them as follows:
"When we held _thing_ the last time, at Frosten, I demanded of the
peasants that they should accept baptism; and they, on the other hand,
demanded of me that I should sacrifice with them, as Haakon, Ethelstan's
foster-son, had done. I made no objection to this, but promised to be
present at the sacrificial feast at Moere. However, if I am to sacrifice
with you, then I am minded to make a sacrifice of the biggest kind that
has ever been made. I will not take thralls and criminals; but I will
sacrifice the most high-born men and the mightiest peasants."
He then named six of the most powerful chieftains present, who had been
his most active opponents, and declared that he meant to offer them up
to Odin and Frey for good crops. Before they had time to recover from
their astonishment, they were seized, and presented with the alternative
of being baptized, or sacrificed to their own gods. They did not
meditate long before choosing the former. When the ceremony was
finished, they begged to be allowed to depart, but the king declared
that he would detain them, until they had sent him their sons or
brothers as hostages.
At the Yule-tide sacrifice at Moere, the king arrived with a large number
of followers. The peasants, too, came in full force, armed to the teeth,
and defiant as ever. Conspicuous among them was the burly form of
Ironbeard, who was everywhere active and seemed the head and front of
the opposition. The king endeavored to speak, but the noise was so great
that nobody could hear him. After a while, however, the tumult subsided,
and he repeated his former demand, that all present should accept
baptism, and believe in Christ the White; to which Ironbeard haughtily
responded, that the peasants were here to prevent the king from breaking
the law, that sacrificing to the gods was in accordance with the law,
and that Olaf, whether he would or not, would have to sacrifice, as his
predecessors had done. The king listened patiently to this speech; and
declared himself ready to keep his promise. Accompanied by many men he
entered the temple, leaving his arms without; for no one was allowed to
enter the sanctuary, bearing arms. The king carried, however, in his
hand a stout stick with a gold head. He inspected the images of the gods
carefully; lingering especially before that of Thor, which was adorned
with rings of gold and silver. Suddenly, while all were looking at him,
he raised his stick and gave the god a blow, so that he fell from his
pedestal and broke into many pieces. At the very same instant his men
struck down the other idols; and Ironbeard who was outside was slain. It
was all evidently pre-arranged; and the peasants, who stood aghast at
the magnitude of the sacrilege, scarcely knew whither to turn or how to
resent it. They looked to Ironbeard to give voice to their outraged
feeling, but Ironbeard was dead; and there was no one among the rest who
had any desire to speak. When the king, therefore, for the third time,
repeated his demand that they be baptized, or fight with him on the
spot, they chose the former alternative. After having given hostages for
their perseverance in the faith, and their abandonment of heathen
practices, they made haste to return to their homes. For the slaying of
Ironbeard, Olaf offered to pay a large "atonement" to his relatives, and
to marry his daughter Gudrun. On the wedding-night, however, Gudrun
attempted to murder him, and was returned to her kinsmen. He can
scarcely have regretted her much, as he immediately prepared for a new
matrimonial venture.
This time his attention was directed to Sigrid the Haughty, the widow of
King Erik the Victorious of Sweden. Sigrid was rich and wielded a large
influence, being the mother of King Olaf the Swede, and the possessor of
great landed estates in Gautland. She was, therefore, much afflicted
with wooers, who came from many countries to share her heart and her
possessions. One descendant of Harold the Fairhaired, Harold Groenske
(the Greenlander), she had burned up, in order to punish his presumption
in offering himself to her.
"I'll teach little kings the risks of proposing to me," she said, as she
ordered the hall where her wooers slept to be fired.
Olaf Tryggvesson's overtures, which were conducted by negotiations, she
received favorably, and agreed to meet him at Konghelle, near the
boundary line between Norway and Sweden. Olaf sent in advance, as a
present, a large gold ring which he had taken from the door of the
temple at Hlade. It was admired, but on being tested was found to be
filled with copper. This incensed Sigrid, but she still concluded to
keep her appointment with Olaf. They accordingly met and discussed the
terms of the marriage. Olaf demanded, as an indispensable condition,
that Sigrid should be baptized, to which Sigrid strenuously objected.
Then the king sprang up in great wrath and struck her with his glove in
the face, crying: "What do I want with thee, thou old heathen jade?" She
arose, speechless with anger, but when she had reached the door she
turned back, saying: "That shall be thy death."
[Illustration: RUNIC STONE FROM GRAN IN HADELAND. THE INSCRIPTION READS
IN TRANSLATION: "GUNVOR, DAUGHTER OF THIRIK, MADE A BRIDGE IN MEMORY OF
AASTRID, HER DAUGHTER. SHE WAS THE FAIREST MAIDEN IN HADELAND." PROF.
BUGGE READS: "THE MOST SKILLFUL MAIDEN WITH HER HANDS."]
A short time after this meeting, Sigrid married Sweyn Forkbeard, of
Denmark, possibly with a view to accomplishing her vengeance upon Olaf.
Sweyn's sister Thyra, whom he had married against her will to the Wendic
King Burislav, fled immediately after the wedding and arrived in Norway,
imploring Olaf's protection. It is possible that he had met her before,
and was well disposed toward her. At all events, he solved the problem
by marrying her (998), although she was fully as old as Sigrid the
Haughty, and had had two husbands before.
After this brief interval, devoted to personal affairs, Olaf returned
once more to the task to which he had consecrated his life. The
chieftains of Haalogaland, who had prevented him from landing when he
came to convert them, still remained unsubdued; and the time was now
convenient for teaching them a lesson in submission. There were
especially three, viz.: Thore Hjort, Eyvind Kinriva, and Haarek of
Thjotta, the son of Eyvind Scald-Spoiler, who were the chieftains and
leaders of the tribal aristocracy of those regions. It was natural
enough that these men, who derived much of their dignity from their
priesthoods and consequent identification with the old religion, should
be most tenacious in their adherence to the faith which was the
foundation of their power. Haarek, who descended from a daughter of
Harold the Fairhaired, felt himself to be quite as great a man as King
Olaf, and he was in no wise disposed to submit without a trial of
strength. It so happened that two men from Haalogaland, named Sigurd and
Hauk, had been captured by the king and escaped. These, pretending to
be the king's enemies, sought refuge with Haarek, and were well received
by him. One day they proposed a sailing tour, to which their host
willingly assented. They took provisions and beer with them in the boat,
set sail, and steered for Nidaros, where they delivered Haarek into the
power of the king. He stubbornly refused to be baptized, but was,
nevertheless, after a brief detention, given a ship and permitted to
return unmolested to his home. From that day, however, Haarek, though
making no pretence of friendship, acted as the ally of the king. He even
helped to betray his friend, Eyvind Kinriva, into Olaf's hands. The king
presented Eyvind with the usual alternative of baptism or death, but
with the unusual result that the latter was preferred. Thore Hjort was
now alone left; he allied himself with Raud the Strong, who had the
reputation of being a wizard, and delivered a regular battle in which he
was defeated by the king. Raud escaped on his fleet dragon-ship, while
Thore was pursued by Olaf, who set a dog named Vige on his track,
saying:
[Illustration: INSTRUMENT OF UNKNOWN USE, POSSIBLY A PAIR OF SCALES,
FOUND IN SILGJORD, BRATSBERG AMT.]
"Vige, catch thou the stag."[A]
[Footnote A: Hjort means a stag.]
The dog did actually overtake Thore, and the king cut him down with his
own hands. Olaf strove in vain to get on the track of Raud, but the
weather was so terrible that he did not venture to go to sea. He began
to suspect, after a while, that it was Raud himself who, by his
witchcraft, had aroused the elements; and after having waited for
several days and nights for a change in the weather, he called Bishop
Sigurd to him and asked his advice. The bishop, it is told, raised up a
crucifix, surrounded by lighted tapers, in the prow of the king's ship,
"The Crane," and stood himself beside it, clad in sacerdotal vestments,
praying and scattering holy water. Instantly the storm ceased about "The
Crane," though it still roared wildly under the heavens, and the smoke
of the lashed waves stood like a wall on either side. The men now seized
the oars and rowed in toward the island where Raud was living, "The
Crane" keeping the lead and the other ships following in the smooth
water in her wake. Raud was surprised while asleep, and as he still
refused to become a Christian, was tortured until he died. The king
forced an adder down his throat, according to the legend; and it cut its
way through his side, killing him by its poison.
There is much in this story which is obviously legendary. But there is
one circumstance which stamps the adventure itself as essentially true,
viz.: the detailed description of Raud's ship, "The Serpent," which the
king took, and which figures later in the battle of Svolder. One may be
reluctant to believe that a man so chivalrous and noble as Olaf
Tryggvesson on other occasions proved himself to be, can have been
guilty of the cruelty which is here attributed to him. This instance is,
however, not a solitary one. Eyvind Kinriva, when he refused to be
baptized, had glowing coals put upon his stomach, at the king's command,
and expired under horrible tortures. Olaf's fanaticism led him to
believe that praise rather than censure was due to him for thus
punishing the enemies of God. It is, indeed, probable that a man of
gentler calibre, and more squeamish in the selection of his means, would
never have accomplished even the nominal Christianization of Norway. In
fact, so great was Olaf's zeal, and so single his purpose, that he
subordinated all other concerns to this one great object, the thought of
which filled him with a noble enthusiasm.
Even before he had secured the allegiance of the surviving chief of
Haalogaland, Haarek of Thjotta, who, with all his household, accepted
the Christian faith, he sent messengers to the Faeroe Isles, Iceland,
and Greenland, and commanded the chieftains there to renounce their old
religion. Sigmund Bresteson, the Earl of the Faeroe Isles, whom he
summoned to him, arrived in Norway (999) and was baptized. Thangbrand,
who was sent to Iceland to preach the gospel, had at first a
considerable success, baptizing such important chiefs as Hall of the
Side, and Gissur the White, and the great lawyer Njaal of Bergthor's
knoll. The pugnacious priest, however, soon got into difficulties by his
readiness to draw his sword, killed several men, was outlawed, and
compelled to leave the island. In Norway, where Olaf had given him the
church at Moster, he had, previous to his departure for Iceland, found
it inconvenient to live on his income, and in order to increase his
revenue, had been in the habit of making forays into the neighboring
shires, replenishing his stores at the expense of the heathen. This
freebooting propensity incensed the king, and Thangbrand's missionary
expedition to Iceland was undertaken as a penance for his misbehavior.
It had, however, far greater results than either Olaf or the priest
could have anticipated. The public sentiment in Iceland, after
Thangbrand's flight, changed with astonishing rapidity in favor of the
new faith, which was legally accepted at the _Althing_ June, A.D. 1000.
[Illustration: OLD LOOM FROM THE FAEROE ISLES.]
Olaf's great achievement, as the first successful propagandist of
Christianity on the throne of Norway, surrounded his name with a halo
which dazzled his biographers and disposed them to exalt him beyond his
deserts. For all that, it is a fact that his contemporaries, many of
whom had small reason to love him, were no less dazzled by his brilliant
personality than his biographers. In the first place, his manly beauty
and his resemblance to Haakon the Good, which was frequently commented
upon, predisposed the people in his favor. Secondly, his natural
kindliness and winning manners attracted every one who came in contact
with him. Last, but not least, his extraordinary skill in athletic
sports and the use of arms was greatly admired. He could, as Snorre
relates, use his right and his left hand equally well in shooting; he
could play with three spears at once, so that one was always in the air;
he could run forward and backward on the oars of a ship while the men
were rowing. In daily intercourse he was affable and generous, fond of a
joke, and easily moved to laughter and to wrath. In anger he could do
things which he later regretted; and we have seen how, when fired with
holy zeal, he committed acts which he ought to have regretted, though
there is no evidence that he did. His love of splendor in attire and
surroundings may be accounted a weakness, but it served, nevertheless,
to endear him to his people.
Although surrounded by enemies on all sides, Norway suffered but little
from foreign wars during the brief reign of Olaf Tryggvesson. Gudroed,
the last surviving son of Erik Blood-Axe, made an attack upon Viken in
the summer of 999, but was defeated and slain in the king's absence by
his brothers-in-law, Thorgeir and Hyrning. Much more dangerous to King
Olaf proved the hostility of Sigrid the Haughty, who was watching for an
opportunity to take revenge upon him. Although he must have been well
aware of the risks, he did not hesitate to furnish this opportunity. His
queen, Thyra, had great estates in Wendland and Denmark, and was
dissatisfied, because she was deprived of the revenues which they had
formerly brought her. Whenever he spoke to her, she always contrived to
bring in something about these estates, and by appeals to his vanity egg
him on to war with her brother Sweyn Forkbeard, who withheld from her
her rightful property. When these tactics failed, she resorted to
prayers and tears, until her husband's patience was wellnigh exhausted.
If only for the sake of domestic peace, an expedition to Wendland began
to be discussed as an approaching possibility. One Sunday in March--it
was Palm Sunday--the king met a man in the street who sold spring
vegetables. He bought a bunch and brought it to the queen, remarking
that these vegetables were large, considering the earliness of the
season. The queen, who was, as usual, weeping for her estates in
Wendland, thrust the vegetables contemptuously away, and with the tears
streaming down her face, cried: "Greater gifts did my father, Harold
Gormsson, give me when, as a child, I got my first teeth; he came hither
to Norway and conquered it; while thou, for fear of my brother Sweyn,
darest not journey through Denmark in order to get me what belongs to
me, and of which I have been shamefully robbed."
To this King Olaf wrathfully replied: "Never shall I be afraid of thy
brother Sweyn, and if we meet, he shall succumb."
Summons was now sent through all the shires of the land, calling upon
the chieftains to join the king with as many ships as were by law
required of them. He had himself just finished a ship of extraordinary
size and beauty, called "The Long-Serpent," the fame of which spread
through all the lands of the North. It was 56 Norwegian ells, or about
112 feet from prow to stern, had 52 oars on either side, and could
accommodate 600 warriors. The crew was made up of picked men, none of
whom must be over 60 and less than 20 years of age. Only one exception
was permitted to this rule in the case of Einar Eindridsson surnamed
Thambarskelver, who was but 18 years old, but the most skilful archer in
all Norway. With his bow, called Thamb, from which he derived his
surname, he could shoot a blunt arrow through a raw ox-hide, depending
from a pole.
In order to distinguish "The Long-Serpent" from the dragon-ship he had
taken from Raud the Strong, Olaf called the latter "The Short-Serpent."
He had many other excellent ships besides, and his brothers-in-law,
Erling Skjalgsson of Sole, Thorgeir, and Hyrning, joined him, each with
a large and finely-equipped galley.
When he steered southward to Wendland, he had about 60 ships of war
besides a similar number of smaller transports. King Burislav, in spite
of his union with Thyra, received him well, possibly on account of the
earlier relationship through Geira, or on account of their common
hostility to Sweyn Forkbeard in Denmark. The question of the estates was
amicably settled and Olaf, after having been splendidly entertained,
prepared to start homeward. The rumor, in the meanwhile, had gone abroad
that he was in Wendland, and his enemies, in order to gather a
sufficiently large force to destroy him, employed Earl Sigvalde, the
chief of the Jomsvikings, to detain him and lull him into a false
security. In this the treacherous earl succeeded. He gained Olaf's
confidence, scouted the thought that Sweyn Forkbeard should ever dare
attack him; and finally offered to escort him on the way with his own
fleet and pilot him through the dangerous waters along the Wendic coast.
It was of no avail that Sigvalde's wife, Aastrid, the night before
Olaf's departure, warned him against her husband as openly as she dared,
and proposed to send a ship along in case of danger. A strange
infatuation bound him to his false friend. At Sigvalde's advice he even
permitted part of his fleet to start in advance, as the straits between
the islands were narrow. The traitor, in the meanwhile, was in constant
communication with King Sweyn, at whose request he agreed to separate
Olaf from his main force and lead him into the trap which his foes had
prepared for him. Besides King Sweyn there were Earl Erik, who had the
death of his father, Earl Haakon, to avenge, and King Olaf the Swede,
the son of Sigrid the Haughty. All these were lying in wait with about
sixty or seventy war galleys, behind the little island of Svolder,
between the island Ruegen and the present Prussian province, Pomerania.
From their hiding-place they looked for several days in vain for the
Norse ships, and began to grow impatient. They had gone ashore with
their crews in order to while away the time, and the three commanders
were standing together, sweeping the horizon with their glances, when,
to their delight, the Norse transport fleet hove in sight, spreading its
sails before the favoring breeze.
The day was fair. The sun shone brightly, and the surface of the water
barely curled into slight undulations. Gayly the proud ships stood out
to the sea, one larger and finer than the other. When King Sweyn saw the
beautiful ship of Erling Skjalgsson of Sole, he was sure that it must be
"The Long Serpent," though it had no dragon-head in its prow. "Afraid is
Olaf Tryggvesson to-day," he said, "since he dares not carry a head on
his dragon." "This ship I know well by its striped sails," said Earl
Erik; "it does not belong to the king, but to Erling Skjalgsson. Let it
pass; for if, as I suppose, he is himself on board, we shall be best
served, if he and his band are not found among those with whom we are to
fight to-day."
By twos and threes the great ships of the Norse chieftains passed by,
and every time the Swedish and the Danish king were sure that one of
them must be "The Long Serpent." Presently Sigvalde's fleet of eleven
ships became visible, and having received signals from the allied
princes, turned its course suddenly around the island, to the great
astonishment of Thorkill Dyrdill, who was steering the king's ship, "The
Crane," right in its wake. King Sweyn, at the sight of this splendid
galley, could no more be restrained, but ordered his men aboard, in
spite of Earl Erik's warning. He even insinuated that the latter was a
coward who had no ambition to avenge his father; to which the earl
replied, that before the setting of the sun it would be seen who was the
more eager for battle, the Swedes and Danes, or he and his men.
Thorkill Dyrdill dropped the sails of "The Crane," and, taking in the
situation at a glance, determined to await the arrival of King Olaf.
Then came "The Short Serpent," casting golden gleams across the water
from its shining dragon-head; and King Sweyn cried exultingly: "Loftily
shall the Serpent bear me to-night, and I shall steer her."
Earl Erik, in whom King Sweyn's recent taunt was rankling, replied:
"Even if Olaf Tryggvesson had no larger ship than this, Sweyn, with all
his army of Danes, could not win it from him."
When at last "The Long Serpent" reared its flaming prow against the
horizon, shooting long beams in the sun, the three princes marvelled at
its beauty. Many a one trembled, too, with fear, when he saw the
majestic ship approaching, and the dense rows of polished shields and
swords flashing from afar.
"This glorious ship," said Earl Erik, "is fitting for such a king as
Olaf Tryggvesson; for it may, in sooth, be said of him, that he is
distinguished above all other kings as 'The Long Serpent' above all
other ships."
All King Olaf's fleet, with the exception of eleven ships, were now out
of sight, and many of his chieftains advised him not to fight against
such heavy odds. He would not listen to their counsel, but ordered the
ships to be bound together and every thing to be prepared for battle.
"Down with the sails," he cried with a loud voice, which could be
clearly heard across the waters; "never have I yet fled from any battle.
God rules over my life. Never will I flee; for he is no king who shuns
his foes because of fear."
The whole hostile fleet now rowed forward from behind the island, and it
seemed as if the sea was covered with ships as far as the eye could
reach. King Sweyn, with his sixty galleys, became first visible.
"What chieftain is that right opposite to us?" asked King Olaf.
"That is King Sweyn with the Danish army," answered one of his men.
"I have no fear of them," said the king. "Never yet have Danes beaten
Norsemen, and they will not beat us to-day. But to what chieftain belong
the standards there on the right?"
He was told that they belonged to Olaf, the king of the Swedes.
"The Swedes," said he, "would find it more agreeable to sit at home and
lick their sacrificial bowls,[A] than to meet our arms to-day on 'The
Long Serpent.' Scarcely do I think that we need be afraid of those
horse-eaters. But whose are those large ships on the left side of the
Danes?"
[Footnote A: This is meant as a taunt at the Swedes, who were yet
heathen.]
"That," answered his informant, "is Earl Erik, Earl Haakon's son."
[Illustration: THE CHURCH AT MOSTER ISLAND (MOSTEROe), SUPPOSED TO HAVE
BEEN BUILT BY OLAF TRYGGVESSON.]
"From them we may expect a hard battle; for, methinks, Earl Erik has
considerable reason for attacking us; and he and his men are Norsemen
like ourselves,"
While the king was speaking, Queen Thyra, who had accompanied him, came
up on deck. Seeing the enormous hostile fleet before her, and the
smallness of her husband's force, she burst into tears.
"Now thou must not weep," said King Olaf; "for now thou hast, indeed,
gotten what was due to thee in Wendland; and to-day I mean to demand of
thy brother Sweyn thy tooth-gift which thou hast so often asked me for."
King Sweyn was the first to attack, but after a short and stubborn fight
was compelled to retreat. One of his galleys was disabled after the
other, and there was a great carnage. King Olaf himself stood on the
poop royal [A] of "The Long Serpent," where all could see him, directing
the defence, and himself fighting with spears and arrows. His helmet and
his shield, which were gilt, shone in the sun. Over his armor he wore a
short tunic of scarlet silk. While the Danes were in full retreat, the
Swedes hastened to their rescue, and they now bore for a while the brunt
of the battle. For every Swede or Dane that fell there were ten ready to
take his place; while the Norsemen, surrounded on all sides by hostile
ships, had to endure an incessant shower of spears and arrows, and the
shock of repeated onsets that had to be repelled by the sword in
hand-to-hand conflicts. However tired and thirsty they were, they could
give themselves no respite. Every man that fell or was disabled by
wounds left a gap that could not be filled. And yet, in spite of the
great numerical superiority of their foes, they would have carried the
day at Svolder, if Earl Erik had not commenced a destructive attack upon
the right wing, while the Swedes and the Danes were engaging the centre.
In fact, the latter were again retreating in disorder before the furious
bravery of King Olaf's men, when Earl Erik rowed up alongside the
outermost ship on the right, with his great galley, "The Iron Ram," and
made a vigorous onslaught. Here Norseman met Norseman, and the numbers
had to decide. The men on the king's ship fought desperately, but were
overpowered, and leaped into the sea, or saved themselves on board the
next ship. The first was then cut adrift, and Erik, in accordance with a
well-matured plan, engaged the next and the next. At last all of King
Olaf's ships except "The Long Serpent" were cut adrift, and their
defenders slain. Then a space was cleared in front of "The Iron Ram,"
and she was rowed forward with tremendous force, striking "The Long
Serpent" amidships. The good ship creaked in all her beams; but as there
was scarcely any wind no great damage was done. Einar Thambarskelver,
who stood before the mast on "The Long Serpent," saw Earl Erik standing
near the prow of "The Iron Ram," covered by many shields. He bent his
bow and sent an arrow whizzing over his head, and in the next instant
another, which flew between the earl's arm and his body. The earl,
turning to the archer, Finn Eyvindsson, said: "Shoot that tall man on
the forward deck."
[Footnote A: _Loeftingen_ is the elevated deck in the stern of an old
war-galley, and corresponds very nearly to the poop royal of French and
Spanish men-of-war of the thirteenth century.]
Finn aimed an arrow at Einar just as he was bending his bow for a third
shot at the earl; the arrow hit the bow in the middle, and it broke with
a loud crash.
"What was it that broke?" asked Olaf.
"Norway from thy hands, my king," cried Einar.
"So great was not the breach, I hope," the king made answer; "take my
bow and shoot with that."
He flung his own bow to the archer, who seized it, bent it double, and
flung it back. "Too weak is the king's bow," he said.
Earl Erik was now preparing for the final attack, and he could not doubt
its result.
King Olaf's men were in a desperate strait, from which no escape was
possible. The king flung forth his spears, two at a time, from his
station on the poop, and many men were transfixed by his keen shafts. He
watched at the same time the combat on the forward deck, whither the
earl was just directing his attack, and it seemed to him that his men
made no headway.
"Do you wield your swords with so little strength," he cried, "since
they bite so poorly?"
"No," answered a warrior; "but our swords are dull and broken."
The king then hastened to the forward deck, where there was a large
chest of arms. He opened it and took out armfuls of bright, sharp
swords, which he flung to his men. As he stooped down, the blood
trickled down over his hands from under his armor. His men then knew
that he was wounded, but it was no time then for nursing any one's
wounds. The earl's men were storming forward, and the tired Norsemen
fell in heaps, and could no longer keep them back. The arrows rained
thick and fast about the king, and it was obvious he could not hold out
much longer. He was visible to all; for he made no attempt to hide or
shelter himself. One of his trusted men, Kolbjoern Stallare, who saw his
danger, sprang upon the poop and placed himself at his side. His
resemblance to the king had often been remarked upon; moreover, he was
of the same height, and was similarly dressed. The storm of missiles was
now directed against both, and, as they raised their shields, they were
thickly fringed with arrows. The clash of arms, the groans of the dying,
and the whizzing of flying missiles, filled the air. The king let his
shield drop and looked out over the ship. There were but eight men
alive, besides himself and Kolbjoern. He raised the shield above his head
and leaped overboard. Kolbjoern followed his example, but was picked up
by the earl's men, who mistook him for the king. That the latter was
drowned, there can be no reasonable doubt, although there is a legend,
which was fondly cherished, that he swam to the galley which Aastrid,
Earl Sigvalde's wife, had sent out for his rescue. According to this
story, he made a pilgrimage to Rome, and lived long as a hermit in the
Holy Land.
King Olaf Tryggvesson was thirty-six years old when he died (1000).
Queen Thyra, who, with good reason, held herself responsible for his
death, was inconsolable. When she came up on deck, after the battle, and
saw the destruction she had wrought she broke into lamentation. Earl
Erik was moved by her sorrow and spoke kindly to her, assuring her that
if she would return to Norway she would be accorded the honor which was
due to her as the widow of so great a king. She thanked him for his
offer, but said that she had no heart to survive her lord. On the ninth
day after the battle she died.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]