any one else can see. Now we have a god whom you can see every day,
except a rainy day like this. If your god is so powerful, then let him
arrange that to-morrow we shall have clouds but no rain."
When they met again the next day the weather was what they had asked for,
clouds but no rain. Bishop Sigurd now celebrated mass and preached to the
people about the miracles which Christ had wrought when on earth. On the
third day it was still cloudy. The people had brought with them a great
wooden image of the god Thor, and their chief spoke as follows:
"Where is your god now, King Olaf? You do not look so bold as you did
yesterday, for our god, who rules over all things, is here now and
scaring you with his fierce eyes. You scarce dare look at him, but you
would be wiser to believe in the god that holds in his hand your
destiny."
"Your god does not frighten me," answered the king. "He is blind and
deaf and cannot move from the spot where you have set him without he is
carried. He will soon meet his fate. Look yonder to the east. There in
the flood of light comes our God."
[Illustration: NORWEGIAN PEASANTS.]
To the east all eyes were turned, and at that moment the sunlight burst
from the clouds and spread over the scene. As it did so a sturdy warrior,
at a signal from the king, sprang forwards and struck the idol so fierce
a blow with his club that it was shattered to pieces. Out from its hollow
interior sprang great rats, snakes, and lizards, which had grown fat on
the food with which the idol had been fed daily.
On seeing these loathsome things squirm from the interior of their god
the peasants fled from the spot in a panic of fear, rushing to the river
where their boats lay. But King Olaf, forecasting this, had sent men to
bore holes in the boats so that they would not float. Unable to escape,
the frightened peasants came back, quite downcast in spirit.
"You see what your god is worth," said the king. "Has he eaten the bread
and meat you fed him, or has it gone to fatten rats and snakes? As for
the gold and silver you gave him, there it lies scattered. Take up your
golden ornaments and hang them no more on worthless logs. Now I give you
your choice: you shall accept the faith I bring you, or you shall fight
for your own. He will win to whom his god gives the victory."
The peasants were not prepared to fight, and therefore were obliged to
accept baptism. Priests were sent to teach them the tenets of the new
faith they had accepted, and Dale Guldbrand signified his honesty by
building a church to the Christian deity. Other provinces were also won
over to Christ, but there was one great and bold chieftain, Erling by
name, and a sturdy heathen in his faith, who remained hostile to the king
and a war between them became inevitable.
While the king and the earl were making busy preparations to fight for
their faiths, a warrior king and conqueror stepped in to take advantage
for himself of the quarrel. This was King Canute, monarch of Denmark and
England, who was eager to add Norway and Sweden to his dominions and make
himself one of the most powerful of kings. He secretly sent presents to
the discontented Norse chiefs and took other means to win them to his
cause. It was not long before Olaf learned of these underhand doings, and
he at once made an alliance with King Anund of Sweden, whose sister he
had married, and whom he told that Canute would attack him if he should
win Norway. In his turn, Canute sent ambassadors to King Anund, with
splendid presents, hoping to win him over.
Two candlesticks of gold were placed before him by the ambassadors.
"Pretty toys those," said Anund, "but not worth enough to break me from
my good friend Olaf."
Then they brought forth a golden platter, of artistic finish and adorned
with jewels. King Anund gazed at it with covetous eyes.
"A handsome bit of work," he said; "but I will not sell King Olaf for a
dish."
Finally two magnificent rings were offered. King Anund laughed when he
saw them.
"Keen and shrewd is King Canute," he remarked. "He knows I love golden
toys, but he does not know that I love honor better. I have known King
Olaf since he was a boy; he is my friend and my sister is his queen. I
will not forsake him to please your king."
On hearing this, King Canute laid aside his plots and made a pilgrimage
to Rome. During his absence his brother-in-law, Earl Ulf, rebelled
against him and allied himself with Kings Olaf and Anund, who sent fleets
to his aid. As it proved, King Canute was not the man to be caught
napping. Back from his pilgrimage he travelled in haste and came near to
capturing both the kings. They fled with all speed, pursued by him with a
more powerful fleet, and went up a little river in southern Sweden, which
they closed by a dam against their strong foe. Canute came soon after and
found the harbor deserted and the river closed against him.
That night orders were given by the kings to break the dam and the
heaped-up water ran down in an immense flood on the Danish ships, doing
them great damage and drowning many of the people on board. But no attack
was made on the disabled fleet, for Earl Ulf now turned traitor to his
allies and joined Canute with his ships, making him too strong to
attack.
This ended the war for the time, Canute returning to England. But he had
won over many of the Norse chiefs by his bribes and the next year came
again, sailing north to Nidaros, where the assembled chiefs, whom he had
gained to his side, proclaimed him king of Norway. He appointed Earl
Haakon, grandson of the famous Earl Haakon of a former tale, regent in
his stead, and sailed away again.
In this manner Olaf lost his kingdom, for with all the powerful chiefs
sold to the great King Canute and supported by him, little hope remained.
He kept up the struggle for a short time, but was soon forced to flee to
Sweden, whence he made his way to Russia and to the court of King
Jaroslov, who was his brother-in-law, for he had married Princess
Ingegerd of Sweden, once affianced to Olaf.
Thus easily had Norway been conquered by Canute, but it was not long to
remain under Danish rule at this time. Olaf, it is true, never won the
throne again, though he made a strong effort to regain it. In Russia he
grew more and more given to religious thoughts, until he became looked
upon as a holy man. This made him open to believe in visions, and when in
a dream he saw the former King Olaf, who bade him to go back to Norway
and conquer it or die, he did not hesitate.
Word had been brought him that Earl Haakon was dead and Norway with no
immediate ruler, and against the advice of Jaroslov he set out for his
late kingdom, leaving his son Magnus at the Russian court.
In Sweden the king gave him permission to gather recruits, but now his
religious fanaticism stood in the way of his success. He would have none
but baptized men in his army, and thus rejected many brave warriors while
taking some known to be outlaws and thieves. On reaching Norway he showed
the same unwisdom. He had but four thousand men under his command, while
the army he was soon to meet numbered ten thousand. Yet Olaf rejected
five hundred of his men because they were heathens and, thus weakened,
marched to the unequal fray.
"Forward, Christ's men, king's men!" was the battle-cry of Olaf's army as
it rushed upon the foe. "Forward, peasant men!" cried the opposite army,
charging under its chiefs.
The king's men had the best of it at the opening, but the peasants held
their ground stubbornly, and as the battle went on Olaf's ranks thinned
and wavered. Finding the day going against him, he dashed forward with a
small band of devoted men. One by one they fell. The standard changed
hands again and again as its bearer was struck down. Olaf, severely
wounded, stood leaning against a rock, when he was cut down by spear and
sword. And strangely, at that moment, the sun began to grow blood-red and
a dusky hue fell over the field. Darker and darker it grew till the sun
was blotted out and terror filled the souls of the peasants, who saw in
this strange darkness a token of the wrath of Olaf's God. But the eclipse
came too late to save the king, who lay dead where he had fallen.
Olaf was gone but tradition built a halo around his name. It was reported
that miracles were wrought by his blood and by the touch of his lifeless
hand. Tales of marvel and magic grew up about him, and he became a
wonder-worker for the superstitious people. In time he grew to be the
national hero and the national saint, and lives in history as Olaf the
Saint, while his tragic death and his enthusiasm for the cause of Christ
gave him a strong hold on the people's hearts and aided greatly in making
Norway truly a Christian land.
_CANUTE THE GREAT, KING OF SIX NATIONS._
A famous old king of Denmark, known as Harald Blaatand or Bluetooth, had
many sons, of whom only one, Svend or Sweyn, outlived him. While Harald
was a Christian, Sweyn was a pagan, having been brought up in the old
faith by a noble warrior Palnatoke, to whom his father had sent the boy
to teach him the use of arms.
When the king found that the boy was being made a pagan he tried to
withdraw him from Palnatoke, but Sweyn would not leave his friend,
whereupon the crafty king sought to destroy the warrior. We speak of
this, for there is a very interesting story connected with it. Every one
has read of how the Austrian governor Gessler condemned the Swiss peasant
William Tell to shoot with an arrow an apple from his son's head, but few
know that a like story is told of a Danish king and warrior four hundred
years earlier. This is the story, as told for us by an old historian.
One day, while Palnatoke was boasting in the king's presence of his skill
as an archer, Harald told him that, in spite of his boasts, there was one
shot he would not dare to try. He replied that there was no shot he was
afraid to attempt, and the king then challenged him to shoot an apple
from the head of his son. Palnatoke obeyed, and the apple fell, pierced
by the arrow. This cruel act made Palnatoke the bitter foe of King
Harald, and gathering around him a band of fierce vikings he founded a
brotherhood of sea-rovers at Jomsborg, and for long years afterwards the
Jomsborgers, or Jomsborg vikings, were a frightful scourge to all
Christian lands on the Baltic Sea. In former tales we have told some of
their exploits.
It is said that Sweyn himself, in a later war, killed his father on the
battlefield, while Palnatoke stood by approving, though in after years
the two were bitter foes. All we need say further of these personages is
that Sweyn invaded England with a powerful force in the time of Ethelred
the Unready and drove this weak king from the island, making himself
master of great part of the kingdom. He died at Gainsborough, England, in
1014, leaving his son Knud, then a boy of fourteen, to complete the
conquest. It is this son, known in England as Canute the Great, and the
mightiest of all the Danish kings, with whose career we have to deal.
England did not fall lightly into Canute's hands; he had to win it by
force of arms. Encouraged by the death of Sweyn and the youth of Canute,
the English recalled Ethelred and for a time the Danes lost the kingdom
which their king Sweyn had won. Canute did not find a throne awaiting him
in Denmark. His younger brother Harald had been chosen king by the Danes
and when Canute asked him for a share in the government, Harald told him
that if he wished to be a king he could go back and win England for
himself. He would give him a few ships and men, but the throne of Denmark
he proposed to keep.
Nothing loth, Canute accepted the offer and the next year returned to
England with a large and well appointed force, whose work of conquest was
rapidly performed. Ethelred died and great part of England was
surrendered without resistance to the Danes. But Edmond, Ethelred's son,
took the field with an army and in three months won three victories over
the invaders.
A fourth battle was attempted and lost and Edmond retreated to the
Severn, swiftly followed by Canute. The two armies here faced each other,
with the fate of England in the balance, when a proposal in close accord
with the spirit of the times was made. This was to settle the matter by
single combat between the kings. Both were willing. While Edmond had the
advantage in strength, Canute was his superior in shrewdness. For when
the champions met in deadly fray and Canute was disarmed by his opponent,
the wily Dane proposed a parley, and succeeded in persuading Edmond to
divide the kingdom between them. The agreement was accepted by the armies
and the two kings parted as friends--but the death of Edmond soon after
had in it a suspicious appearance of murder by poison.
On the death of Edmond, Canute called a meeting of the popular assembly
of the nation and was acknowledged king of all England. Not long
afterwards Harald of Denmark died and the Danes chose him, under his
home name of Knud, as their king also. But he stayed in Denmark only long
enough to settle the affairs of the Church in that realm. He ordered that
Christianity should be made the religion of the kingdom and the worship
of Odin should cease; and put English bishops over the Danish clergy. He
also brought in English workmen to teach the uncivilized Danes. Thus,
Dane as Canute was, he preferred the religion and conditions of his
conquered to those of his native kingdom, feeling that it was superior in
all the arts and customs of civilization.
A great king was Canute, well deserving the title long given him of
Canute the Great. Having won England by valor and policy, he held it by
justice and clemency. He patronized the poets and minstrels and wrote
verses in Anglo-Saxon himself, which were sung by the people and added
greatly to his popularity. Of the poems written by him one was long a
favorite in England, though only one verse of it now remains. This was
preserved by the monks of Ely, since they were its theme. Thus it runs,
in literal translation:
"Merrily sung the monks within Ely
When Canute King rowed by;
Row, knights, near the land,
And hear we these monks' song."
It is said that the verse was suggested to the king when rowing with his
chiefs one day in the river Nene, near Ely Minster, by the sweet and
solemn music of the monastery choir that floated out to them over the
tranquil water. The monks of Ely, to whom we owe much of our knowledge of
King Canute, tell us that he had a strong affection for the fen country
and for their church, and gave the following story in that connection. It
is at once picturesque and humorous.
One year, at the festival of the Purification, when King Canute proposed
to pay his usual visit to Ely, the weather was very severe and all the
streams and other waters were frozen. The courtiers advised the king to
keep the holy festival in some other godly house, which he might reach
without danger of drowning under broken ice, but such was his love for
the abbot and monks of Ely that he would not take this advice.
Canute proposed to cross the ice by way of Soham Mere, then an immense
body of water, saying that if any one would go before and show him the
way he would be the first to follow. The soldiers and courtiers hesitated
at this suggestion, and looked at one another with doubt and dread. But
standing among the crowd was one Brithmar, a churl or serf, who was
nicknamed Budde, or Pudding, from his stoutness. He was a native of the
island of Ely and doubtless familiar with its waters, and when the
courtiers held back he stepped forward and said he would go before and
show the way.
"Go on then, in the name of our Lady," said Canute, "and I will follow;
for if the ice on Soham Mere can bear a man so large and fat as thou
art, it will not break under the weight of a small thin man like me."
So the churl went forward, and Canute the Great followed him, and after
the king came the courtiers, one by one, with spaces between; and they
all got safely over the frozen mere, with no mishaps other than a few
slips and falls on the smooth ice; and Canute, as he had proposed, kept
the festival of the Purification with the monks of Ely.
As a reward to the fat churl Brithmar for his service, he was made a
freeman and his little property was also made free. "And so," the
chronicle concludes, "Brithmar's posterity continued in our days to be
freemen and to enjoy their possessions as free by virtue of the grant
made by the king to their forefather."
There is another and more famous story told of King Canute, one showing
that his great Danish majesty had an abundant share of sound sense. Often
as this story has been told it will bear retelling. The incident occurred
after his pilgrimage to Rome in the year 1030; made, it is said, to
obtain pardon for the crimes and bloodshed which paved his way to the
English throne.
After his return and when his power was at its height, the courtiers
wearied him by their fulsome flatteries. Disgusted with their extravagant
adulations he determined to teach them a lesson. They had spoken of him
as a ruler before whom all the powers of nature must bend in obedience,
and one day he caused his golden throne to be set on the verge of the
sea-shore sands as the tide was rolling in with its resistless might.
Seating himself on the throne, with his jewelled crown on his head, he
thus addressed the ocean:
"O thou Ocean! Know that the land on which I sit is mine and that thou
art a part of my dominion; therefore rise not, but obey my commands, and
do not presume to wet the edge of my royal robe."
He sat as if awaiting the sea to obey his commands, while the courtiers
stood by in stupefaction. Onward rolled the advancing breakers, each
moment coming nearer to his feet, until the spray flew into his face, and
finally the waters bathed his knees and wet the skirts of his robe. Then,
rising and turning to the dismayed flatterers, he sternly said:
"Confess now how vain and frivolous is the might of an earthly king
compared with that Great Power who rules the elements and says unto the
ocean, 'Thus far shalt thou go and no farther!'"
The monks who tell this story, conclude it by saying that Canute
thereupon took off his crown and deposited it within the cathedral of
Winchester, never wearing it again.
After his visit to Rome, Canute ruled with greater mildness and justice
than ever before, while his armies kept the turbulent Scotch and Welsh
and the unquiet peoples of the north in order. In the latter part of his
reign he could boast that the English, the Scotch, the Welsh, the Danes,
the Swedes, and the Norwegians were his subjects, and he was called in
consequence "The King of the Six Nations," and looked upon throughout
Europe as the greatest of sovereigns; none of the kings and emperors of
that continent being equal in power, wealth and width of dominion to King
Canute, a descendant of the vikings of Denmark.
Canute spent the most of his life in England, but now and then visited
his northern realm, and there are some interesting anecdotes of his life
there. Though a devout Christian and usually a self-controlled man, the
wild passions of his viking ancestry would at times break out, and at
such times he spared neither friend nor foe and would take counsel from
no man, churchman or layman. But when his anger died out his remorse was
apt to be great and he would submit to any penance laid upon him by the
Church. Thus when he had killed one of his house servants for some slight
offense, he made public confession of his crime and paid the same
blood-fine as would have been claimed from a man of lower rank.
The most notable instance of these outbursts of uncontrollable anger was
that in which he murdered his old friend and brother-in-law Ulf, who,
after rebelling against him, had saved him from complete defeat by the
Swedes, by coming to his rescue just as the royal fleet was nearly
swamped by the opening of the sluices which held back the waters of the
Swedish river Helge-aae. Ulf took Canute on board his own ship and
brought him in safety to a Danish island, while leaving his men to aid
those of Canute in their escape from the Swedes. Yet the king bore a
grudge against the earl, and this was its cause.
At one time Ulf ruled over Denmark as Canute's regent and made himself
greatly beloved by the people from his just rule. Queen Emma, Canute's
wife, wished to have her little son Harthaknud--or Hardicanute, as he was
afterwards called in England--made king of Denmark, but could not
persuade her husband King Canute to accede to her wishes. She therefore
sent letters privately to Ulf, saying that the king wished to see the
young prince on the throne, but did not wish to do anything the people
might not like. Ulf, deceived by her story, had the boy crowned king, and
thereby won Canute's ill-will.
The king, however, showed no signs of this, nor of resentment against Ulf
for his rebellion, but, after his escape from the Swedes, asked the earl
to go with him to his palace at Roeskilde, and on the evening of their
arrival offered to play chess with him. During the game Canute made a
false move so that Ulf was able to take one of his knights, and when the
king refused to let this move count and wanted his man back again the
earl jumped up and said he would not go on with the game. Canute, in a
burst of anger, cried out:
"The coward Norwegian Ulf Jarl is running away."
"You and your coward Danes would have run away still faster at the
Helge-aae if I and my Norwegians had not saved you from the Swedes, who
were making ready to beat you all like a pack of craven hounds!"
ejaculated the angry earl.
Those hasty words cost Ulf his life. Canute, furious at the insult,
brooded over it all night, and the next morning, still in a rage, called
to one of the guards at the door of his bed-chamber:
"Go and kill Ulf Jarl."
"My Lord King, I dare not," answered the man. "Ulf Jarl is at prayer
before the altar of the church of St. Lucius."
The king, after a moment's pause, turned to a young man-at-arms who had
been in his service since his boyhood and cried angrily:
"I command you, Olaf, to go to the church and thrust your sword through
the Jarl's body."
Olaf obeyed, and Ulf was slain while kneeling before the altar rails of
St. Lucius' church.
Then, as usual with King Canute, his passion cooled and he deeply
lamented his crime, showing signs of bitter remorse. In way of expiation
he paid to his sister Estrid, Ulf's widow, a large sum as blood-fine, and
gave her two villages which she left at her death to the church in which
her husband had been slain. He also brought up Ulf's eldest son as one of
his own children. The widowed Estrid afterwards married Robert, Duke of
Normandy, father of William the Conqueror, who in 1066 became master of
England.
King Canute died in 1035, at thirty-six years of age, and his son Harald
reigned after him in England for four years, and afterwards his son
Harthaknud, or Hardicanute, for three years, when England again came
under an Anglo-Saxon king--to fall under the power of William of
Normandy, a conqueror of Norwegian descent, twenty-four years later.
_MAGNUS THE GOOD AND HAROLD HARDRULER._
After the death of King Olaf the Saint, and after the Danes had for some
years ruled over Norway, Olaf's son Magnus, who had been left in Russia,
was brought to Norway and proclaimed king. The Danes had oppressed the
people, and had put over them a woman and her son, and it was this that
made the chiefs drive out the tyrants and put young Magnus, then a boy of
ten years of age, on the throne.
A curious thing then took place, one of those strange political
somersaults which at times come in the history of nations. For as the
Danes had lately ruled over Norway, now a Norseman came to rule over
Denmark. Thus it was that this odd change came about.
The great King Canute was dead and his son Hardicanute had succeeded him
on the throne. This new king claimed Norway as his and prepared to fight
for it. But the chief men in the two countries succeeded in making peace,
with the agreement that if either of the kings should die without heirs
the other should take his throne. A few years later Hardicanute died and
Magnus was proclaimed king of Denmark. Thus, in the year 1042, the two
kingdoms became united under a Norse king, a descendant of Harold the
Fair-Haired.