Olaf Tryggveson (A.D. 995-1000) also makes a great figure in the _Faroer
Saga_, and recounts there his early troubles, which were strange and
many. He is still reckoned a grand hero of the North, though his _vates_
now is only Snorro Sturleson of Iceland. Tryggveson had indeed many
adventures in the world. His poor mother, Astrid, was obliged to fly, on
murder of her husband by Gunhild,--to fly for life, three months before
he, her little Olaf, was born. She lay concealed in reedy islands, fled
through trackless forests; reached her father's with the little baby in
her arms, and lay deep-hidden there, tended only by her father himself;
Gunhild's pursuit being so incessant, and keen as with sleuth-hounds.
Poor Astrid had to fly again, deviously to Sweden, to Esthland
(Esthonia), to Russia. In Esthland she was sold as a slave, quite parted
from her boy,--who also was sold, and again sold; but did at last
fall in with a kinsman high in the Russian service; did from him find
redemption and help, and so rose, in a distinguished manner, to manhood,
victorious self-help, and recovery of his kingdom at last. He even met
his mother again, he as king of Norway, she as one wonderfully lifted
out of darkness into new life and happiness still in store.
Grown to manhood, Tryggveson,--now become acquainted with his birth,
and with his, alas, hopeless claims,--left Russia for the one profession
open to him, that of sea-robbery; and did feats without number in that
questionable line in many seas and scenes,--in England latterly, and
most conspicuously of all. In one of his courses thither, after long
labors in the Hebrides, Man, Wales, and down the western shores to
the very Land's End and farther, he paused at the Scilly Islands for
a little while. He was told of a wonderful Christian hermit living
strangely in these sea-solitudes; had the curiosity to seek him out,
examine, question, and discourse with him; and, after some reflection,
accepted Christian baptism from the venerable man. In Snorro the story
is involved in miracle, rumor, and fable; but the fact itself seems
certain, and is very interesting; the great, wild, noble soul of fierce
Olaf opening to this wonderful gospel of tidings from beyond the world,
tidings which infinitely transcended all else he had ever heard or
dreamt of! It seems certain he was baptized here; date not fixable;
shortly before poor heart-broken Dunstan's death, or shortly after; most
English churches, monasteries especially, lying burnt, under continual
visitation of the Danes. Olaf such baptism notwithstanding, did not quit
his viking profession; indeed, what other was there for him in the world
as yet?
We mentioned his occasional copartneries with Svein of the Double-beard,
now become King of Denmark, but the greatest of these, and the alone
interesting at this time, is their joint invasion of England, and
Tryggveson's exploits and fortunes there some years after that adventure
of baptism in the Scilly Isles. Svein and he "were above a year in
England together," this time: they steered up the Thames with three
hundred ships and many fighters; siege, or at least furious assault, of
London was their first or main enterprise, but it did not succeed. The
Saxon Chronicle gives date to it, A.D. 994, and names expressly, as
Svein's co-partner, "Olaus, king of Norway,"--which he was as yet far
from being; but in regard to the Year of Grace the Saxon Chronicle is
to be held indisputable, and, indeed, has the field to itself in this
matter. Famed Olaf Tryggveson, seen visibly at the siege of London,
year 994, it throws a kind of momentary light to us over that disastrous
whirlpool of miseries and confusions, all dark and painful to the
fancy otherwise! This big voyage and furious siege of London is Svein
Double-beard's first real attempt to fulfil that vow of his at Father
Blue-tooth's "funeral ale," and conquer England,--which it is a pity he
could not yet do. Had London now fallen to him, it is pretty evident all
England must have followed, and poor England, with Svein as king over
it, been delivered from immeasurable woes, which had to last some
two-and-twenty years farther, before this result could be arrived at.
But finding London impregnable for the moment (no ship able to get
athwart the bridge, and many Danes perishing in the attempt to do it by
swimming), Svein and Olaf turned to other enterprises; all England in
a manner lying open to them, turn which way they liked. They burnt and
plundered over Kent, over Hampshire, Sussex; they stormed far and wide;
world lying all before them where to choose. Wretched Ethelred, as the
one invention he could fall upon, offered them Danegelt (16,000 pounds
of silver this year, but it rose in other years as high as 48,000
pounds); the desperate Ethelred, a clear method of quenching fire
by pouring oil on it! Svein and Olaf accepted; withdrew to
Southampton,--Olaf at least did,--till the money was got ready. Strange
to think of, fierce Svein of the Double-beard, and conquest of England
by him; this had at last become the one salutary result which remained
for that distracted, down-trodden, now utterly chaotic and anarchic
country. A conquering Svein, followed by an ably and earnestly
administrative, as well as conquering, Knut (whom Dahlmann compares
to Charlemagne), were thus by the mysterious destinies appointed the
effective saviors of England.
Tryggveson, on this occasion, was a good while at Southampton; and
roamed extensively about, easily victorious over everything, if
resistance were attempted, but finding little or none; and acting now
in a peaceable or even friendly capacity. In the Southampton country
he came in contact with the then Bishop of Winchester, afterwards
Archbishop of Canterbury, excellent Elphegus, still dimly decipherable
to us as a man of great natural discernment, piety, and inborn veracity;
a hero-soul, probably of real brotherhood with Olaf's own. He even made
court visits to King Ethelred; one visit to him at Andover of a very
serious nature. By Elphegus, as we can discover, he was introduced into
the real depths of the Christian faith. Elphegus, with due solemnity of
apparatus, in presence of the king, at Andover, baptized Olaf anew, and
to him Olaf engaged that he would never plunder in England any more;
which promise, too, he kept. In fact, not long after, Svein's conquest
of England being in an evidently forward state, Tryggveson (having made,
withal, a great English or Irish marriage,--a dowager Princess, who had
voluntarily fallen in love with him,--see Snorro for this fine romantic
fact!) mainly resided in our island for two or three years, or else in
Dublin, in the precincts of the Danish Court there in the Sister Isle.
Accordingly it was in Dublin, as above noted, that Hakon's spy found
him; and from the Liffey that his squadron sailed, through the Hebrides,
through the Orkneys, plundering and baptizing in their strange way,
towards such success as we have seen.
Tryggveson made a stout, and, in effect, victorious and glorious
struggle for himself as king. Daily and hourly vigilant to do so, often
enough by soft and even merry methods, for he was a witty, jocund man,
and had a fine ringing laugh in him, and clear pregnant words ever
ready,--or if soft methods would not serve, then by hard and even
hardest he put down a great deal of miscellaneous anarchy in Norway; was
especially busy against heathenism (devil-worship and its rites): this,
indeed, may be called the focus and heart of all his royal endeavor in
Norway, and of all the troubles he now had with his people there. For
this was a serious, vital, all-comprehending matter; devil-worship, a
thing not to be tolerated one moment longer than you could by any method
help! Olaf's success was intermittent, of varying complexion; but his
effort, swift or slow, was strong and continual; and on the whole he did
succeed. Take a sample or two of that wonderful conversion process:--
At one of his first Things he found the Bonders all assembled in
arms; resolute to the death seemingly, against his proposal and him.
Tryggveson said little; waited impassive, "What your reasons are,
good men?" One zealous Bonder started up in passionate parliamentary
eloquence; but after a sentence or two, broke down; one, and then
another, and still another, and remained all three staring in
open-mouthed silence there! The peasant-proprietors accepted the
phenomenon as ludicrous, perhaps partly as miraculous withal, and
consented to baptism this time.
On another occasion of a Thing, which had assembled near some heathen
temple to meet him,--temple where Hakon Jarl had done much repairing,
and set up many idol figures and sumptuous ornaments, regardless of
expense, especially a very big and splendid Thor, with massive gold
collar round the neck of him, not the like of it in Norway,--King Olaf
Tryggveson was clamorously invited by the Bonders to step in there,
enlighten his eyes, and partake of the sacred rites. Instead of which
he rushed into the temple with his armed men; smashed down, with his own
battle-axe, the god Thor, prostrate on the ground at one stroke, to set
an example; and, in a few minutes, had the whole Hakon Pantheon wrecked;
packing up meanwhile all the gold and preciosities accumulated there
(not forgetting Thor's illustrious gold collar, of which we shall hear
again), and victoriously took the plunder home with him for his own
royal uses and behoof of the state. In other cases, though a friend to
strong measures, he had to hold in, and await the favorable moment. Thus
once, in beginning a parliamentary address, so soon as he came to touch
upon Christianity, the Bonders rose in murmurs, in vociferations and
jingling of arms, which quite drowned the royal voice; declared, they
had taken arms against king Hakon the Good to compel him to desist from
his Christian proposals; and they did not think King Olaf a higher man
than him (Hakon the Good). The king then said, "He purposed coming to
them next Yule to their great sacrificial feast, to see for himself
what their customs were," which pacified the Bonders for this time. The
appointed place of meeting was again a Hakon-Jarl Temple, not yet done
to ruin; chief shrine in those Trondhjem parts, I believe: there should
Tryggveson appear at Yule. Well, but before Yule came, Tryggveson made a
great banquet in his palace at Trondhjem, and invited far and wide, all
manner of important persons out of the district as guests there. Banquet
hardly done, Tryggveson gave some slight signal, upon which armed men
strode in, seized eleven of these principal persons, and the king said:
"Since he himself was to become a heathen again, and do sacrifice, it
was his purpose to do it in the highest form, namely, that of Human
Sacrifice; and this time not of slaves and malefactors, but of the best
men in the country!" In which stringent circumstances the eleven seized
persons, and company at large, gave unanimous consent to baptism;
straightway received the same, and abjured their idols; but were not
permitted to go home till they had left, in sons, brothers, and other
precious relatives, sufficient hostages in the king's hands.
By unwearied industry of this and better kinds, Tryggveson had trampled
down idolatry, so far as form went,--how far in substance may be greatly
doubted. But it is to be remembered withal, that always on the back of
these compulsory adventures there followed English bishops, priests and
preachers; whereby to the open-minded, conviction, to all degrees of it,
was attainable, while silence and passivity became the duty or necessity
of the unconvinced party.
In about two years Norway was all gone over with a rough harrow of
conversion. Heathenism at least constrained to be silent and outwardly
conformable. Tryggveson, next turned his attention to Iceland, sent one
Thangbrand, priest from Saxony, of wonderful qualities, military as
well as theological, to try and convert Iceland. Thangbrand made a few
converts; for Olaf had already many estimable Iceland friends, whom he
liked much, and was much liked by; and conversion was the ready road
to his favor. Thangbrand, I find, lodged with Hall of Sida (familiar
acquaintance of "Burnt Njal," whose Saga has its admirers among us even
now). Thangbrand converted Hall and one or two other leading men;
but in general he was reckoned quarrelsome and blusterous rather than
eloquent and piously convincing. Two skalds of repute made biting
lampoons upon Thangbrand, whom Thangbrand, by two opportunities that
offered, cut down and did to death because of their skaldic quality.
Another he killed with his own hand, I know not for what reason. In
brief, after about a year, Thangbrand returned to Norway and king Olaf;
declaring the Icelanders to be a perverse, satirical, and inconvertible
people, having himself, the record says, "been the death of three men
there." King Olaf was in high rage at this result; but was persuaded by
the Icelanders about him to try farther, and by a wilder instrument. He
accordingly chose one Thormod, a pious, patient, and kindly man, who,
within the next year or so, did actually accomplish the matter; namely,
get Christianity, by open vote, declared at Thingvalla by the general
Thing of Iceland there; the roar of a big thunder-clap at the right
moment rather helping the conclusion, if I recollect. Whereupon Olaf's
joy was no doubt great.
One general result of these successful operations was the discontent,
to all manner of degrees, on the part of many Norse individuals, against
this glorious and victorious, but peremptory and terrible king of
theirs. Tryggveson, I fancy, did not much regard all that; a man of
joyful, cheery temper, habitually contemptuous of danger. Another
trivial misfortune that befell in these conversion operations, and
became important to him, he did not even know of, and would have much
despised if he had. It was this: Sigrid, queen dowager of Sweden,
thought to be amongst the most shining women of the world, was also
known for one of the most imperious, revengeful, and relentless, and had
got for herself the name of Sigrid the Proud. In her high widowhood she
had naturally many wooers; but treated them in a manner unexampled. Two
of her suitors, a simultaneous Two, were, King Harald Graenske (a cousin
of King Tryggveson's, and kind of king in some district, by sufferance
of the late Hakon's),--this luckless Graenske and the then Russian
Sovereign as well, name not worth mentioning, were zealous suitors of
Queen Dowager Sigrid, and were perversely slow to accept the negative,
which in her heart was inexorable for both, though the expression of
it could not be quite so emphatic. By ill-luck for them they came
once,--from the far West, Graenske; from the far East, the Russian;--and
arrived both together at Sigrid's court, to prosecute their importunate,
and to her odious and tiresome suit; much, how very much, to her
impatience and disdain. She lodged them both in some old mansion, which
she had contiguous, and got compendiously furnished for them; and there,
I know not whether on the first or on the second, or on what following
night, this unparalleled Queen Sigrid had the house surrounded, set on
fire, and the two suitors and their people burnt to ashes! No more of
bother from these two at least! This appears to be a fact; and it could
not be unknown to Tryggveson.
In spite of which, however, there went from Tryggveson, who was now a
widower, some incipient marriage proposals to this proud widow; by
whom they were favorably received; as from the brightest man in all the
world, they might seem worth being. Now, in one of these anti-heathen
onslaughts of King Olaf's on the idol temples of Hakon--(I think it
was that case where Olaf's own battle-axe struck down the monstrous
refulgent Thor, and conquered an immense gold ring from the neck of him,
or from the door of his temple),--a huge gold ring, at any rate, had
come into Olaf's hands; and this he bethought him might be a pretty
present to Queen Sigrid, the now favorable, though the proud. Sigrid
received the ring with joy; fancied what a collar it would make for her
own fair neck; but noticed that her two goldsmiths, weighing it on their
fingers, exchanged a glance. "What is that?" exclaimed Queen Sigrid.
"Nothing," answered they, or endeavored to answer, dreading mischief.
But Sigrid compelled them to break open the ring; and there was found,
all along the inside of it, an occult ring of copper, not a heart of
gold at all! "Ha," said the proud Queen, flinging it away, "he that
could deceive in this matter can deceive in many others!" And was in hot
wrath with Olaf; though, by degrees, again she took milder thoughts.
Milder thoughts, we say; and consented to a meeting next autumn, at some
half-way station, where their great business might be brought to a happy
settlement and betrothment. Both Olaf Tryggveson and the high dowager
appear to have been tolerably of willing mind at this meeting; but Olaf
interposed, what was always one condition with him, "Thou must consent
to baptism, and give up thy idol-gods." "They are the gods of all my
forefathers," answered the lady, "choose thou what gods thou pleasest,
but leave me mine." Whereupon an altercation; and Tryggveson, as was his
wont, towered up into shining wrath, and exclaimed at last, "Why should
I care about thee then, old faded heathen creature?" And impatiently
wagging his glove, hit her, or slightly switched her, on the face with
it, and contemptuously turning away, walked out of the adventure. "This
is a feat that may cost thee dear one day," said Sigrid. And in the end
it came to do so, little as the magnificent Olaf deigned to think of it
at the moment.
One of the last scuffles I remember of Olaf's having with his refractory
heathens, was at a Thing in Hordaland or Rogaland, far in the North,
where the chief opposition hero was one Jaernskaegg ("ironbeard")
Scottice ("Airn-shag," as it were!). Here again was a grand heathen
temple, Hakon Jarl's building, with a splendid Thor in it and much idol
furniture. The king stated what was his constant wish here as elsewhere,
but had no sooner entered upon the subject of Christianity than
universal murmur, rising into clangor and violent dissent, interrupted
him, and Ironbeard took up the discourse in reply. Ironbeard did not
break down; on the contrary, he, with great brevity, emphasis, and
clearness, signified "that the proposal to reject their old gods was in
the highest degree unacceptable to this Thing; that it was contrary
to bargain, withal; so that if it were insisted on, they would have to
fight with the king about it; and in fact were now ready to do so." In
reply to this, Olaf, without word uttered, but merely with some signal
to the trusty armed men he had with him, rushed off to the temple close
at hand; burst into it, shutting the door behind him; smashed Thor and
Co. to destruction; then reappearing victorious, found much confusion
outside, and, in particular, what was a most important item, the rugged
Ironbeard done to death by Olaf's men in the interim. Which entirely
disheartened the Thing from fighting at that moment; having now no
leader who dared to head them in so dangerous an enterprise. So that
every one departed to digest his rage in silence as he could.
Matters having cooled for a week or two, there was another Thing held;
in which King Olaf testified regret for the quarrel that had fallen out,
readiness to pay what _mulct_ was due by law for that unlucky homicide
of Ironbeard by his people; and, withal, to take the fair daughter of
Ironbeard to wife, if all would comply and be friends with him in other
matters; which was the course resolved on as most convenient: accept
baptism, we; marry Jaernskaegg's daughter, you. This bargain held on
both sides. The wedding, too, was celebrated, but that took rather a
strange turn. On the morning of the bride-night, Olaf, who had not been
sleeping, though his fair partner thought he had, opened his eyes, and
saw, with astonishment, the fair partner aiming a long knife ready
to strike home upon him! Which at once ended their wedded life; poor
Demoiselle Ironbeard immediately bundling off with her attendants home
again; King Olaf into the apartment of his servants, mentioning there
what had happened, and forbidding any of them to follow her.
Olaf Tryggveson, though his kingdom was the smallest of the Norse Three,
had risen to a renown over all the Norse world, which neither he
of Denmark nor he of Sweden could pretend to rival. A magnificent,
far-shining man; more expert in all "bodily exercises" as the Norse call
them, than any man had ever been before him, or after was. Could keep
five daggers in the air, always catching the proper fifth by its handle,
and sending it aloft again; could shoot supremely, throw a javelin with
either hand; and, in fact, in battle usually throw two together. These,
with swimming, climbing, leaping, were the then admirable Fine Arts of
the North; in all which Tryggveson appears to have been the Raphael and
the Michael Angelo at once. Essentially definable, too, if we look
well into him, as a wild bit of real heroism, in such rude guise and
environment; a high, true, and great human soul. A jovial burst of
laughter in him, withal; a bright, airy, wise way of speech; dressed
beautifully and with care; a man admired and loved exceedingly by those
he liked; dreaded as death by those he did not like. "Hardly any king,"
says Snorro, "was ever so well obeyed; by one class out of zeal and
love, by the rest out of dread." His glorious course, however, was not
to last long.
King Svein of the Double-Beard had not yet completed his conquest of
England,--by no means yet, some thirteen horrid years of that still
before him!--when, over in Denmark, he found that complaints against
him and intricacies had arisen, on the part principally of one Burislav,
King of the Wends (far up the Baltic), and in a less degree with the
King of Sweden and other minor individuals. Svein earnestly applied
himself to settle these, and have his hands free. Burislav, an aged
heathen gentleman, proved reasonable and conciliatory; so, too, the King
of Sweden, and Dowager Queen Sigrid, his managing mother. Bargain in
both these cases got sealed and crowned by marriage. Svein, who had
become a widower lately, now wedded Sigrid; and might think, possibly
enough, he had got a proud bargain, though a heathen one. Burislav also
insisted on marriage with Princess Thyri, the Double-Beard's sister.
Thyri, inexpressibly disinclined to wed an aged heathen of that stamp,
pleaded hard with her brother; but the Double-Bearded was inexorable;
Thyri's wailings and entreaties went for nothing. With some guardian
foster-brother, and a serving-maid or two, she had to go on this hated
journey. Old Burislav, at sight of her, blazed out into marriage-feast
of supreme magnificence, and was charmed to see her; but Thyri would not
join the marriage party; refused to eat with it or sit with it at all.
Day after day, for six days, flatly refused; and after nightfall of the
sixth, glided out with her foster-brother into the woods, into by-paths
and inconceivable wanderings; and, in effect, got home to Denmark.
Brother Svein was not for the moment there; probably enough gone to
England again. But Thyri knew too well he would not allow her to stay
here, or anywhere that he could help, except with the old heathen she
had just fled from.
Thyri, looking round the world, saw no likely road for her, but to Olaf
Tryggveson in Norway; to beg protection from the most heroic man she
knew of in the world. Olaf, except by renown, was not known to her; but
by renown he well was. Olaf, at sight of her, promised protection
and asylum against all mortals. Nay, in discoursing with Thyri Olaf
perceived more and more clearly what a fine handsome being, soul and
body, Thyri was; and in a short space of time winded up by proposing
marriage to Thyri; who, humbly, and we may fancy with what secret joy,
consented to say yes, and become Queen of Norway. In the due months they
had a little son, Harald; who, it is credibly recorded, was the joy of
both his parents; but who, to their inexpressible sorrow, in about a
year died, and vanished from them. This, and one other fact now to be
mentioned, is all the wedded history we have of Thyri.
The other fact is, that Thyri had, by inheritance or covenant, not
depending on her marriage with old Burislav, considerable properties in
Wendland; which, she often reflected, might be not a little behooveful
to her here in Norway, where her civil-list was probably but straitened.
She spoke of this to her husband; but her husband would take no hold,
merely made her gifts, and said, "Pooh, pooh, can't we live without old
Burislav and his Wendland properties?" So that the lady sank into
ever deeper anxiety and eagerness about this Wendland object; took to
weeping; sat weeping whole days; and when Olaf asked, "What ails thee,
then?" would answer, or did answer once, "What a different man my father
Harald Gormson was [vulgarly called Blue-tooth], compared with some that
are now kings! For no King Svein in the world would Harald Gormson
have given up his own or his wife's just rights!" Whereupon Tryggveson
started up, exclaiming in some heat, "Of thy brother Svein I never was
afraid; if Svein and I meet in contest, it will not be Svein, I believe,
that conquers;" and went off in a towering fume. Consented, however,
at last, had to consent, to get his fine fleet equipped and armed, and
decide to sail with it to Wendland to have speech and settlement with
King Burislav.
Tryggveson had already ships and navies that were the wonder of the
North. Especially in building war ships, the Crane, the Serpent, last
of all the Long Serpent, [7]--he had, for size, for outward beauty, and
inward perfection of equipment, transcended all example.
This new sea expedition became an object of attention to all neighbors;
especially Queen Sigrid the Proud and Svein Double-Beard, her now king,
were attentive to it.
"This insolent Tryggveson," Queen Sigrid would often say, and had long
been saying, to her Svein, "to marry thy sister without leave had or
asked of thee; and now flaunting forth his war navies, as if he, king
only of paltry Norway, were the big hero of the North! Why do you suffer
it, you kings really great?"
By such persuasions and reiterations, King Svein of Denmark, King
Olaf of Sweden, and Jarl Eric, now a great man there, grown rich by
prosperous sea robbery and other good management, were brought to take
the matter up, and combine strenuously for destruction of King Olaf
Tryggveson on this grand Wendland expedition of his. Fleets and forces
were with best diligence got ready; and, withal, a certain Jarl Sigwald,
of Jomsburg, chieftain of the Jomsvikings, a powerful, plausible,
and cunning man, was appointed to find means of joining himself to
Tryggveson's grand voyage, of getting into Tryggveson's confidence, and
keeping Svein Double-Beard, Eric, and the Swedish King aware of all his
movements.
King Olaf Tryggveson, unacquainted with all this, sailed away in summer,
with his splendid fleet; went through the Belts with prosperous winds,
under bright skies, to the admiration of both shores. Such a fleet, with
its shining Serpents, long and short, and perfection of equipment and
appearance, the Baltic never saw before. Jarl Sigwald joined with new
ships by the way: "Had," he too, "a visit to King Burislav to pay; how
could he ever do it in better company?" and studiously and skilfully
ingratiated himself with King Olaf. Old Burislav, when they arrived,
proved altogether courteous, handsome, and amenable; agreed at once to
Olaf's claims for his now queen, did the rites of hospitality with a
generous plenitude to Olaf; who cheerily renewed acquaintance with that
country, known to him in early days (the cradle of his fortunes in the
viking line), and found old friends there still surviving, joyful to
meet him again. Jarl Sigwald encouraged these delays, King Svein and Co.
not being yet quite ready. "Get ready!" Sigwald directed them, and they
diligently did. Olaf's men, their business now done, were impatient to
be home; and grudged every day of loitering there; but, till Sigwald
pleased, such his power of flattering and cajoling Tryggveson, they
could not get away.
At length, Sigwald's secret messengers reporting all ready on the part
of Svein and Co., Olaf took farewell of Burislav and Wendland, and
all gladly sailed away. Svein, Eric, and the Swedish king, with their
combined fleets, lay in wait behind some cape in a safe little bay of
some island, then called Svolde, but not in our time to be found; the
Baltic tumults in the fourteenth century having swallowed it, as some
think, and leaving us uncertain whether it was in the neighborhood of
Rugen Island or in the Sound of Elsinore. There lay Svein, Eric, and Co.
waiting till Tryggveson and his fleet came up, Sigwald's spy messengers
daily reporting what progress he and it had made. At length, one bright
summer morning, the fleet made appearance, sailing in loose order,
Sigwald, as one acquainted with the shoal places, steering ahead, and
showing them the way.
Snorro rises into one of his pictorial fits, seized with enthusiasm at
the thought of such a fleet, and reports to us largely in what order
Tryggveson's winged Coursers of the Deep, in long series, for perhaps an
hour or more, came on, and what the three potentates, from their knoll
of vantage, said of each as it hove in sight, Svein thrice over guessed
this and the other noble vessel to be the Long Serpent; Eric, always
correcting him, "No, that is not the Long Serpent yet" (and aside
always), "Nor shall you be lord of it, king, when it does come." The
Long Serpent itself did make appearance. Eric, Svein, and the Swedish
king hurried on board, and pushed out of their hiding-place into
the open sea. Treacherous Sigwald, at the beginning of all this, had
suddenly doubled that cape of theirs, and struck into the bay out of
sight, leaving the foremost Tryggveson ships astonished, and uncertain
what to do, if it were not simply to strike sail and wait till Olaf
himself with the Long Serpent arrived.
Olaf's chief captains, seeing the enemy's huge fleet come out, and
how the matter lay, strongly advised King Olaf to elude this stroke of
treachery, and, with all sail, hold on his course, fight being now on so
unequal terms. Snorro says, the king, high on the quarter-deck where
he stood, replied, "Strike the sails; never shall men of mine think of
flight. I never fled from battle. Let God dispose of my life; but flight
I will never take." And so the battle arrangements immediately began,
and the battle with all fury went loose; and lasted hour after hour,
till almost sunset, if I well recollect. "Olaf stood on the Serpent's
quarter-deck," says Snorro, "high over the others. He had a gilt shield
and a helmet inlaid with gold; over his armor he had a short red coat,
and was easily distinguished from other men." Snorro's account of the
battle is altogether animated, graphic, and so minute that antiquaries
gather from it, if so disposed (which we but little are), what the
methods of Norse sea-fighting were; their shooting of arrows, casting
of javelins, pitching of big stones, ultimately boarding, and mutual
clashing and smashing, which it would not avail us to speak of here.
Olaf stood conspicuous all day, throwing javelins, of deadly aim, with
both hands at once; encouraging, fighting and commanding like a highest
sea-king.
The Danish fleet, the Swedish fleet, were, both of them, quickly dealt
with, and successively withdrew out of shot-range. And then Jarl Eric
came up, and fiercely grappled with the Long Serpent, or, rather, with
her surrounding comrades; and gradually, as they were beaten empty of
men, with the Long Serpent herself. The fight grew ever fiercer, more
furious. Eric was supplied with new men from the Swedes and Danes; Olaf
had no such resource, except from the crews of his own beaten ships, and
at length this also failed him; all his ships, except the Long Serpent,
being beaten and emptied. Olaf fought on unyielding. Eric twice boarded
him, was twice repulsed. Olaf kept his quarterdeck; unconquerable,
though left now more and more hopeless, fatally short of help. A tall
young man, called Einar Tamberskelver, very celebrated and important
afterwards in Norway, and already the best archer known, kept busy with
his bow. Twice he nearly shot Jarl Eric in his ship. "Shoot me that
man," said Jarl Eric to a bowman near him; and, just as Tamberskelver
was drawing his bow the third time, an arrow hit it in the middle
and broke it in two. "What is this that has broken?" asked King Olaf.
"Norway from thy hand, king," answered Tamberskelver. Tryggveson's men,
he observed with surprise, were striking violently on Eric's; but to no
purpose: nobody fell. "How is this?" asked Tryggveson. "Our swords are
notched and blunted, king; they do not cut." Olaf stept down to his
arm-chest; delivered out new swords; and it was observed as he did it,
blood ran trickling from his wrist; but none knew where the wound was.
Eric boarded a third time. Olaf, left with hardly more than one man,
sprang overboard (one sees that red coat of his still glancing in the
evening sun), and sank in the deep waters to his long rest.
Rumor ran among his people that he still was not dead; grounding on some
movement by the ships of that traitorous Sigwald, they fancied Olaf had
dived beneath the keels of his enemies, and got away with Sigwald, as
Sigwald himself evidently did. "Much was hoped, supposed, spoken," says
one old mourning Skald; "but the truth was, Olaf Tryggveson was never
seen in Norseland more." Strangely he remains still a shining figure to
us; the wildly beautifulest man, in body and in soul, that one has ever
heard of in the North.