whom he agreed to pay tribute. He also consented to be baptized as a
Christian and to introduce the Christian faith into Norway. But a
heathen at heart and a Norseman in spirit, he did not intend to keep this
promise. After a meeting with the Danish king in which his baptism took
place, he sailed for his native land with his ship well laden with
priests. But the heathen in him now broke out. With bold disdain of King
Harald, he put the priests on shore, and sought to counteract the effect
of his baptism by a great feast to the old gods, praying for their favor
and their aid in the war that was sure to follow. He looked for an omen,
and it came in the shape of two ravens, which followed his ships with
loud clucking cries. These were the birds sacred to Odin and he hailed
their coming with delight. The great deity of the Norsemen seemed to
promise him favor and success.
Turning against the king to whom he had promised to act as a vassal, he
savagely ravaged the Danish coast lands. Then he landed on the shores of
Sweden, burnt his ships, and left a track of fire and blood as he marched
through that land. Even Viken, a province of Norway, was devastated by
him, on the plea of its being under a Danish ruler. Then, having done his
utmost to show defiance to Denmark and its king, he marched northward to
Drontheim, where he ruled like a king, though still styling himself Earl
Haakon.
Harald Bluetooth was not the man to be defied with impunity, and though
he was too old to take the field himself, he sought means to punish his
defiant vassal. Men were to be had ready and able to fight, if the prize
offered them was worth the risk, and men of this kind Harald knew where
to seek.
[Illustration: From stereograph, copyright by Underwood and Underwood,
N.Y. BUSY FARMERS IN A HILLSIDE FIELD, ABOVE ARE. SWEDEN.]
In the town of Jomsborg, on the island of Wollin, near the mouth of the
Oder, dwelt a daring band of piratical warriors known as the Jomsvikings,
who were famed for their indomitable courage. War was their trade, rapine
their means of livelihood, and they were sworn to obey the orders of
their chief, to aid each other to the utmost, to bear pain unflinchingly,
dare the extremity of danger, and face death like heroes. They kept all
women out of their community, lest their devotion to war might be
weakened, and stood ready to sell their swords to the highest bidder.
To this band of plunderers Harald appealed and found them ready for the
task. Their chief, Earl Sigvalde, brought together a great host of
warriors at a funeral feast to his father, and there, while ale and mead
flowed abundantly, he vowed, flagon in hand, that he would drive Earl
Haakon from the Norse realm or perish in the attempt. His viking
followers joined him in the vow. The strong liquor was in their veins and
there was no enterprise they were not ready to undertake. When their
sober senses returned with the next morning, they measured better the
weight of the enterprise; but they had sworn to it and were not the men
to retreat from a vow they had taken.
Erik, an unruly son of Earl Haakon, had fled from his father's court in
disgrace and was now in Viken, and here the rumor of the vikings' oath
reached his ears. At once, forgetting his quarrel with his father, he
hastened north with all the men he could gather to Earl Haakon's aid,
preceding the Jomsvikings, who were sailing slowly up the shores of
Norway, plundering as they went in their usual fashion. They had a fleet
of sixty ships and a force of over seven thousand well-trained warriors.
Haakon, warned by his son, met them with three times their number of
ships, though these were smaller and lighter craft. On board were about
ten thousand men. Such were the forces that met in what the sagas call
the greatest battle that had ever been fought in Norway.
Soon the embattled ships met and the conflict grew fast and furious,
hurtling weapons filling the air and men falling on all sides. Great was
the carnage and blood flowed in streams on the fighting ships. Earl
Haakon stood in the prow of his ship in the heat of the fight, arrows and
spears whirling around him in such numbers that his shirt of mail became
so torn and rent that he threw it off as useless. The high ships of the
vikings gave them an advantage which told heavily against their
antagonists, spears and arrows being poured down from their sides.
In the height of the battle Earl Haakon disappeared. As the legends tell
he went ashore with his youngest son Erling, whom he sacrificed to the
heathen gods to win their aid in the battle. Hardly had he done this deed
of blood when a dense black cloud arose and a violent hail-storm broke
over the ships, the hail-stones weighing each two ounces and beating so
fiercely in the faces of the Jomsvikings as nearly to blind them. Some
say that the Valkyries, the daughters of Odin, were seen in the prow of
the earl's ship, filling the air with their death-dealing arrows.
Despite the storm and the supernatural terrors that they conjured up, the
Jomsvikings continued to fight, though their decks were slippery with
blood and melting hail. Only one coward appeared among them, their chief
Earl Sigvalde, who suddenly turned his ship and fled. When Vagn Aakesson,
the most daring of the Jomsvikings, saw this recreant act he was frantic
with rage.
"You ill-born hound," he cried, "why do you fly and leave your men in the
lurch? Shame on you, and may shame cling to you to your death!"
A spear hurtled from his hand and pierced the man at the helm, where
Sigvalde had stood a moment before. But the ship of the dastard earl kept
on and a general panic succeeded, all the ships in the fleeing earl's
line following his standard. Only Vagn Aakesson and Bue the Big were left
to keep up the fight.
Yet they kept it up in a way to win them fame. When Earl Haakon's ship
drew up beside that of Bue, two of the viking champions, Haavard the
Hewer and Aslak Rock-skull, leaped on deck and made terrible havoc. In
the end an Icelander picked up an anvil that was used to sharpen their
spears and hurled it at Aslak, splitting his skull, while Haavard had
both legs cut off. Yet the indomitable viking fought on, standing on his
knees.
The onset of the Jomsvikings was so terrific in this last fierce fight
that the earl's men gave back, and might have been all slain had not his
son Erik boarded Bue's ship at this crisis and made an irresistible
charge. A terrible cut across the face severed Bue's nose.
"Now," he cried, "the Danish maidens will kiss me no more."
Seeing that all was at an end, he seized two chests of gold to prevent
their capture by the victors, and sprang with them into the sea,
shouting:
"Overboard all Bue's men!"
On Vagn's ship a similar fierce fight was taking place, ending only when
all but thirty of the vikings were slain.
Then a savage scene was enacted, one worthy only of those barbarous
times. The captives were taken ashore and seated on a long log, their
feet bound, their hands free. At the funeral feast in Sigvalde's hall
Vagn had boasted that he would kill Thorkill Laiva, one of Erik's chief
warriors, and this threatened man was now chosen as executioner.
At the captives he rushed, with uplifted axe, and savagely struck off
their heads, one after another. Vagn was to be left to the last, that he
might suffer from fear, but instead of this he sat joking and laughing
with his men. One of them sang and laughed so loudly that Erik asked him
if he would like to live.
"That depends on who it is that asks me."
"He who offers has the power to grant. I am Earl Erik."
"Then I gladly accept."
Another made a pun which so pleased the earl that he, too, was set free.
One of the captives had long, beautiful hair, and as Thorkill came near
him on his bloody errand he twisted his hair into a coil and asked the
executioner not to soil it with his blood. To humor him Thorkill asked
one of the bystanders to hold the coil while he struck. The man did so,
but as the axe came down the captive jerked his head aside so that the
axe fell on the wrists of the coil-holder, both his hands being cut off.
"Some of the Jomsvikings are still alive," laughed the captive.
"Who are you?" asked Erik.
"I am said to be a son of Bue."
"Do you wish to live?"
"What other choice have I?"
At Erik's command he, too, was released.
Angry at being thus robbed of his prey, Thorkill now sprang towards Vagn,
determined that at least his special enemy should fall. As he came near,
however, one of the men on the log threw himself forward in such a way
that Thorkill stumbled over him and dropped his axe. In an instant Vagn
was on his feet, seized the axe, and dealt Thorkill a deadly blow. His
boast was kept; Thorkill had fallen by his hand.
Erik saw the bold feat with such admiration that he ordered Vagn to be
freed, and the prisoners who remained alive were also set free at his
order.
While this was going on Earl Haakon sat apart conversing with his
chieftains. As they did so they heard a bow-string twang, and before a
hand could be raised a keen-pointed arrow pierced the body of Gissur the
White, one of the chiefs, and he fell over dead. The arrow had come from
the ship of Bue the Big, and thither men ran in haste. What they saw was
Haavard the Hewer, still standing on his knees, though his blood flowed
freely.
"Tell me," he cried, "did any one fall at the tree yonder?"
"Yes; Gissur the White."
"Then luck failed me, for that arrow was aimed for Earl Haakon."
And he fell over on the deck, with death at his heart-strings. The viking
had sent a herald on before, to announce his coming at Odin's court.
It was Haakon who had ordered the murder of the captives, and Erik his
son who gave life to so many of them. The time was near at hand when the
earl was to meet the bloody fate which he had dealt out to others. Though
Erik had done so much to help him in the battle, he was furious with his
son for sparing the life of Vagn Aakesson. As a result they parted in
anger, Erik going south again. Here Vagn joined him and from that day
forward the two were warm friends and comrades.
But Haakon fell into ways of vice as he grew older, and at length he did
a deed that led him to a shameful death. He had his men bring by force
to his palace the wife of a rich peasant, and sent them for another, who
was famed for her beauty. Orm, her husband, refused to let her go and
sent news of the outrage to all the peasants in the valley. From farm to
farm flew the tidings, and the peasants, furious at the shameful deeds of
the earl, seized their arms and gathered in a great band, which marched
upon him at Medalhus.
Earl Haakon was taken by surprise. He had not dreamed of a revolt and
only a few men were with him. These he dismissed and fled for safety,
only one man, his old servant Kark, going with him. Reaching the Gaul
River in his flight, he rode his horse into a deep hole and left his
cloak on the ice, so that his pursuers, finding the dead horse and the
cloak, might think he was drowned.
From there he sought the nearby home of Thora of Rimul, a faithful woman
friend, told her of the hot pursuit and begged her to hide him from his
furious enemies. The only hiding place she could provide was a deep ditch
under her pig-sty, and in this filthy hole the great earl was hidden,
with food, candles, and bedding. Then boards were laid over the ditch and
covered with earth and upon this the pigs were driven.
To Rimul the peasants soon came, filled with fury, and with them came a
man of note who had just landed and was seeking to win the throne. This
was Olaf, a great-grandson of Harold the Fair-Haired, whose claim to the
crown of Norway was far better than that of Haakon. Thinking that Thora
had hidden the fleeing earl the pursuers searched the whole place. The
fugitive not being found, Olaf stood on a large stone near the pig-sty
and called the peasants around him, loudly announcing that any man who
should find and slay Earl Haakon would be given a large reward.
His words were plainly heard in the damp and unpleasant underground den
where Haakon sat shivering. He looked at Kark, the thrall, whose face
showed that he, too, had heard the promise of reward.
"What ails you?" asked the earl. "Your face changes from pale to dark and
gloomy. Do you propose to betray me?"
"No," said Kark.
"We were born on the same night, and if one of us dies the other will
soon follow," said the earl warningly.
For a long time they sat, listening to the sounds above. At length all
grew still and they felt that the night had come. Kark fell asleep, but
the earl sat awake, watching him in deep distrust. The slumbering thrall
tossed about as if in pain and the earl wakened him, asking of what he
had dreamt.
"I dreamed that you and I were on shipboard and that I was at the helm."
"That means that you rule over both our lives. Therefore, Kark, you must
be true and faithful to me, as duty bids you. Better days will soon come
to us both and then you shall be richly rewarded."
Again the thrall fell asleep and again he seemed to dream. The earl woke
him again.
"Of what did you dream?" he asked.
"I dreamed that I was at Hlade and that Olaf Tryggvesson put a golden
ring around my neck."
"That means," said the earl, "that if you seek Olaf he will put a red
ring [a ring of blood] around your neck. Beware of him, Kark, and trust
in me. Be faithful to me and you will find in me a faithful friend."
The night dragged slowly on. The earl dared not let himself sleep, but
sat staring at Kark, who stared back at him. When morning was near at
hand weariness lay so heavily on the earl that he could no longer keep
awake. But his sleep was sorely disturbed by the terrors of that dreadful
night. He tossed about and screamed out in distress and at length rose on
his knees with the horrors of nightmare in his face.
Then Kark, who had all night been meditating treachery, killed him with a
thrust of his knife. Cutting off his head, he broke out of the dark den
and sought Olaf, with the grisly trophy in his hand.
Olaf heard his story with lowering face. It was not to traitors like this
that he had offered reward. In the end, burning with indignation at the
base deed, he ordered the thrall's head to be struck off. Thus Kark's
dream, as interpreted by Haakon, came true. The ring put by Olaf around
his neck was not one of gold, but one of blood.
_HOW OLAF, THE SLAVE-BOY, WON THE THRONE._
Many sons had Harold the Fair-Haired, and of some of them the story has
been told. One of them, Olaf by name, left a son named Tryggve, who in
turn had a son to whom he gave his father's name of Olaf. Wonderful was
the story of this Olaf in his youth and renowned was it in his age, for
he it was who drove the heathen gods from Norway and put Christ in their
place. But it is the strange and striking adventures of his earlier days
with which this tale has to deal.
Prince Tryggve had his enemies and by them was foully murdered. Then they
sought his dwelling, proposing to destroy his whole race. But Aastrid,
his wife, was warned in time, and fled from her home with Thorold, her
foster-father. She hid on a little island in the Rand fiord, and here was
born the son who was afterwards to become one of Norway's most famous
kings.
The perils of Aastrid were not yet at an end. Gunhild, the sorceress
queen, was her chief enemy, and when her spies brought her word that
Aastrid had borne a son, the wicked old woman sought to destroy the
child.
The summer through Aastrid remained on the little isle, hiding in the
weedy bushes by day and venturing abroad only at night. Everywhere
Gunhild's spies sought her, and when autumn came with its long nights,
she left the isle and journeyed with her attendants through the land,
still hiding by day and travelling only under the shades of night. In
this way she reached the estate of her father, Erik Ofrestad.
The poor mother was not left in peace here, the evil-minded sorceress
still pursuing her. A body of murderers was sent to seek for her and her
son on her father's estate, but Ofrestad heard of their mission in time
to send the fugitives away. Dressed as beggars, Aastrid and her child and
Thorolf, her foster-father, travelled on foot from the farm, stopping at
evening to beg food and shelter from a peasant named Björn. The surly
fellow drove them away, but they were given shelter farther on by a
peasant named Thorstein.
Meanwhile the murderers were hot on their track. Not finding Aastrid at
her father's house, they traced her to Björn's farm, where they were told
that a handsome but poorly dressed woman, carrying a young child, had
asked for help that evening. It chanced that a servant of Thorstein
overheard this and when he reached home he told it to his master.
Suspecting the rank and peril of his guests, Thorstein roused them from
sleep with a great show of anger and drove them out into the night. This
was done to deceive the servants, but Thorstein followed the weary
fugitives and told them the reason of his act. He had driven them out to
save them, he said, and he gave them a trusty guide who could show them
the best hiding places in the forest. They found shelter for that night
amid the tall rushes by the side of a small lake.
When the troop of murderers reached Thorstein's house he set them astray
on the wrong scent and he fed the fugitives in the forest until the
murderous gang had given up the search. In the end he aided them to make
their way to Sweden, where they took refuge with a friend of Prince
Tryggve named Haakon the Old.
Still the wicked queen did not let them rest in peace. Learning where
they were, she sent two embassies to King Erik of Sweden, demanding the
surrender of the mother and child. Each time Erik gave them permission to
capture the fugitives if they could, saying that he would not interfere.
But Haakon the Old was not the man to surrender his guests. In vain
Gunhild's ambassador came to him with promises and threats. The dispute
at length grew so hot that a half-witted servant seized a dung-fork and
rushed at the ambassador, who took to his heels, fearing to have his fine
clothes soiled. The angry thrall pursued him till he was driven off the
estate, Haakon looking on with grim mirth.
Such were the early days of little Olaf, whose life began in a series of
adventures which were the prologue to a most stirring and active life.
Few men have had a more adventurous career than he, his whole life being
one of romance, activity and peril. He became a leading hero of the saga
writers, who have left us many striking stories of his young life and
adventures.
Aastrid and her son remained with Haakon the Old until Earl Haakon came
into power in Norway. As he was not of royal blood, she feared that he
might seek to destroy all the descendants of old King Harold, and, in
doubt if her present protector was strong enough to defend her, she
decided to seek refuge in Russia, where her brother Sigurd had risen to a
place of power.
With this voyage young Olaf's later series of adventures began. The
merchant ship in which they set sail was taken by a viking pirate craft,
some of the passengers being killed and others sold as slaves. Thorolf
and his young son Thorgills, with the boy Olaf, were sold to a viking
named Klerkon, who killed Thorolf because he was too old to bring any
price as a slave, but kept the boys, whom he soon traded away in Esthonia
for a big ram. As for Aastrid, she was offered for sale at the
slave-market, and here, despite her ragged and miserable plight, she was
recognized by a rich merchant named Lodin. He offered to pay her ransom
if she would become his wife. The poor woman, not knowing what had become
of her son, was glad to accept his offer and returned with him to his
home in Norway.
To return to the story of the boy slaves, the man who had bought them for
a ram, soon sold them for a coat and cape to a man named Reas. The new
master put Thorgills to hard labor, but took a fancy to Olaf and treated
him much more kindly, the young prince remaining with him for six years
and growing up to be a handsome and sturdy youth.
Sigurd Eriksson, Aastrid's brother, and the uncle of Olaf, was a man of
prominence in Esthonia, and one day rode on business of King Vladimir
through the town in which Reas lived. Here he saw some boys playing, one
of whom attracted him by his manly and handsome face. Calling him to his
horse's side, he asked his name.
"Olaf," said the boy.
Olaf! The name was significant to Sigurd, and a few words more taught him
that the lad was his lost nephew. Seeking Reas, he offered him a good
price for his two young slaves and took them home with him, bidding Olaf
not to tell any one else who he was.
The boy was now well-grown, active, and strong for his years. Walking one
day about the town he saw before him the viking Klerkon who had killed
old Thorolf, his foster-father. He had at the moment an axe in his hand
and, with no thought but that of revenge on the murderer, he struck him a
blow that split his skull and stretched him dead on the ground.
The boy was in peril of his life for this impulsive deed. Death was its
legal penalty, and a crowd quickly gathered who demanded that the boy
murderer should be killed. His uncle heard of the act and ran in haste to
his rescue, taking him to Olga, the queen, and telling her who he was,
what he had done, and why he had done it.
The queen looked at the beautiful and bright-faced lad and took a great
fancy to him at sight. She took him under her protection, and gave him a
training in the use of arms and warlike sports, such as beseemed the
scion of a royal race. When twelve years of age King Vladimir, who
esteemed the boy highly, gave him some armed ships and sent him out to
try his hand in real war, and for some years he roved abroad as a viking.
He also served the king well by conquering for him a rebel province.
Olaf might have won high rank in Russia but for the enemies who envied
him and who made the king fear that he would yet find a rival for the
throne in the ambitious boy. Fearing trouble for her protege, Queen Olga
advised him to leave the kingdom and he sailed for the land of the Wends,
on the Baltic shores, where King Burislav received him as a distinguished
young warrior. He did not tell who he really was, but went under the name
of Ole the Russian, and as such married the daughter of the king, who
fell in love with him for his valor and beauty. Many were the valiant
deeds he did for King Burislav, with whom he stayed until the death of
his wife, he being then twenty-one years of age.
The young warrior now grew eager for new adventures, and in response to a
dream determined to go to Greece and become a Christian. His dream
served the cause of Christianity better than this, if the story is true
that he sent a missionary bishop to Russia who converted both King
Vladimir and Queen Olga to the Christian faith.
[Illustration: From stereograph, copyright by Underwood and Underwood,
N.Y. A NORDFJORD BRIDE AND GROOM WITH GUESTS AND PARENTS. BRIGSDAL.
NORWAY.]
From Greece Olaf wandered to many countries, including France, Denmark,
Scotland, and Northumberland, and his adventures were very numerous. He
was twenty-five years of age when he reached England and here he met with
an adventure of a new type. The Princess Gyda, sister of an Irish king,
was a widow, but was still young and beautiful and had so many suitors
that it was hard for her to choose between them. Among the most
importunate was a warrior named Alfvine, a great slayer of men.
So many were they and so much did they annoy the fair widow that at last
she fixed a day when she would choose a husband from among them, and
numbers of them came before her, all in their most splendid attire. It
was a championship that attracted many lookers on and among them came
Olaf with some of his companions. He was plainly dressed, and wore a fur
hood and cape. Gyda stood forth and looked over her throng of lovers with
listless eyes until at length she saw among the spectators the tall
stranger with the hood of fur. She walked up to him, lifted the hood, and
gazed long into his eyes. What she saw there riveted her fancy.
"I do not know you," she said; "but if you will have me for a wife, then
you are my choice."
Olaf must have seen as much in her eyes as she had in his, for he warmly
replied:
"I know no woman who equals you, and gladly will I accept you."