All the men cheered this speech, and when they were silent Kol rose to

speak. He advised his son not to trust in his own strength for success.

“I advise thee, Rognvald,” he said, “to make a vow that if St. Magnus

secures to thee thine inheritance, thou wilt build and dedicate to him in

Kirkwall a minster of such size and splendour that it shall be the wonder

and the glory of all the North.”

Rognvald thought this the best of advice. Rising once more, he vowed

to build in Kirkwall a splendid cathedral in honour of St. Magnus, and

to remove thither with all reverence the remains of the sainted earl.

No sooner had this solemn vow been taken than the wind became fair for

sailing. The fleet at once put to sea, and reached Shetland in a few days.

Now Rognvald’s real difficulties began. How could he take Earl Paul by

surprise, as he wished to do, with the beacon on the Fair Isle ready to

give the alarm as soon as his ships came in sight? The wisdom of Kol and

of Uni came to his aid. The former had a plan to cause the beacon to be

lit on a false alarm, and the latter to prevent its being lit when it was

needed.

Kol set sail from Shetland towards evening with a fleet of small boats.

When they came in sight of the Fair Isle, they hoisted their sails half

way up the masts, and with the oars the men kept back the boats so as

to make them sail very slowly. At the same time they gradually hoisted

their sails higher and higher, so that to those in charge of the beacon

it might seem that a fleet was rapidly approaching When it was dark the

boats returned to the land.

The trick was successful. The Fair Isle beacon flared up to the sky,

those on North Ronaldsay and on Westray followed, and soon every hilltop

in the islands showed its warning light. The Orkneymen took their weapons

and hurried to Kirkwall, where Earl Paul had appointed them to gather in

such a case, and all was ready to meet the enemy; but no enemy appeared.

Those who had charge of the beacons came with the news of a fleet

approaching; and after long waiting other men were sent to look for its

coming, but they looked in vain. Quarrels soon began to arise as to who

was to blame for the false alarm, for the men were angry at having been

taken from their farm work to no purpose; so the earl had to make peace

among them, and set other men to build up the beacons again and to watch

them.

Now came Uni’s turn. He sailed to the Fair Isle with three companions,

and pretended to be an enemy of Rognvald, saying many hard things

against him and his men. His three companions went out every day to

fish, but Uni himself stayed on shore. He gradually made friends with

the people of the isle, and especially with those who had charge of the

beacon. At last he offered to watch it for them, saying that he had

nothing else to do, and his offer was accepted. Uni then poured water on

the beacon, and kept it in such a state of dampness that it should be

impossible to light it when it was needed.

Thus by the time that Rognvald was to set out from Shetland, Uni had

everything prepared. As soon as his ships were seen from the Fair Isle,

the men who had charge of the beacon tried to light it, but in vain.

There was no time to warn Earl Paul, and Rognvald landed in Westray

without any alarm being given. The bishop now interfered between the

rivals, and a truce was agreed to in order that terms of peace might be

arranged.

And now things took a strange and unexpected turn, so that Rognvald won

the islands without any fighting. While Earl Paul was on a visit to his

friend Sigurd of Westness, in Rousay, he went out before breakfast one

morning and mysteriously disappeared. Sigurd sought him everywhere in

vain. At last they discovered that he had been seized and carried off

to Scotland by Sweyn Asleifson, and he never returned. Earl Paul’s men

gradually came over to Earl Rognvald, and he became ruler over the whole

earldom.

Earl Rognvald now set about fulfilling his vow and raising a great

cathedral in Kirkwall in honour of St. Magnus. In 1137 the work was begun

under the superintendence of Kol, but many a long year was to pass ere

it should be finished. As the work went on it soon became very costly

to the earl. In his difficulty he once more went to his father Kol for

advice. Kol said that Rognvald should declare himself the heir of all

landholders who died, and that their sons should have to redeem their

lands from him. A Thing was called, and this law was passed; but the

freemen also had the choice given them of buying their lands outright,

so that the earl might not inherit them in the future. Most of the

landholders took that plan, and now there was once more plenty of money

for the cathedral.

When the work was so far advanced that part of the cathedral could be

roofed in, the remains of St. Magnus, which had already been removed from

Christ Church in Birsay, were laid to rest in the new minster. Many great

men have been laid in the same place since then. Earl Rognvald himself

was buried there, and there too the remains of King Hakon rested for a

time before their removal to Bergen.

While on a visit to Norway, Earl Rognvald made the acquaintance of a

Crusader who had returned from the Holy Land, and he determined that he

also would become a “Jorsalafarer,” or pilgrim to Jerusalem. The story of

this strange voyage, in company with the Bishop of Orkney and many of his

countrymen—half Vikings, half Crusaders—is well told in the “Saga of Earl

Rognvald,” and in our next chapter we give part of the narrative.

[Illustration: _On the “Viking Path.”_]

THE JORSALAFARERS.

“Earl Rongvald busked him that summer to leave the Orkneys, and he was

rather late boun; for they had a long while to wait for Eindrid, as his

ship did not come from Norway which he had let be made there the winter

before. But when they were boun, they held on their course away from the

Orkneys in fifteen big ships.

“They sailed away from the Orkneys and south to Scotland, and so on to

England, and as they sailed by Northumberland, off Humbermouth, Armod

sang a song,—

‘The sea was high off Humbermouth

When our ships were beating out,

Bends the mast and sinks the land

’Neath our lee off Vesla-sand;

Wave with veil of foam that rises

Drives not in the eyes of him

Who now sits at home; the stripling

From the meeting rideth dry.’

“They sailed thence south round England and to France. Nothing is said of

their voyage before that they came to that seaburg which is named Nerbon

There these tidings had happened, that the earl who before had ruled

the town was dead. His name was Germanus; he left behind him a daughter

young and fair, whose name was Ermingerd. She kept watch and ward over

her father’s inheritance, with the counsel of the most noble men of her

kinsfolk. They gave that counsel to the queen that she should bid the

earl to a worthy feast, and said that by that she would be famous if she

welcomed heartily such men of rank who had come so far to see her, and

who would bear her fame still further. The queen bade them see to that.

And when this counsel had been agreed on by them, men were sent to the

earl, and he was told that the queen bade him to a feast with as many of

his men as he chose to bring with him. The earl took this bidding with

thanks; he chose out all his best men for this journey with him. And when

they came to the feast, there was the best cheer, and nothing was spared

which could do the earl more honour than he had ever met before.

“One day it happened as the earl sat at the feast that the queen came

into the hall and many women with her; she held a beaker of gold in her

hand. She was dressed in the best clothes, had her hair loose as maidens

wont to have, and had put a golden band round her brow. She poured the

wine into the earl’s cup, but her maidens danced before them. The earl

took her hand and the beaker too and set her on his knee, and they talked

much that day.

“The earl stayed there very long in the best of cheer. The townsmen

pressed the earl to settle down there, and spoke out loudly about how

they would give him the lady to wife. The earl said he would fare on

that voyage which he had purposed, but said that he would come thither

as he fared back, and then they could carry out their plan or not as

they pleased. After that the earl busked him away thence with his fellow

voyagers. And as they sailed west of Thrasness they had a good wind; then

they sat and drank and were very merry.

“They fared till they came to Galicialand in the winter before Yule, and

meant to sit there Yule over. They dealt with the landsmen, and begged

them to set them a market to buy food; for the land was barren and bad

for food, and the landsmen thought it hard to feed that host of men.

Now these tidings had happened there, that in that land sat a chief who

was a stranger, in a castle, and he had laid on the landsmen very heavy

burdens. He harried them on the spot if they did not agree at once to all

that he asked, and he offered them the greatest tyranny and oppression.

And when the earl spoke to the landsmen about bringing him food to

buy, they made him that offer, that they would set them up a market

thenceforth on till Lent, but they must rid them in some way or other of

the men in the castle; but Earl Rognvald was to bear the brunt in return

for the right of having all the goods that were gotten from them.

“The earl laid this bare before his men, and sought counsel from them as

to which choice he should take; but most of them were eager to fall on

the castlemen, and thought it bid fair for spoil. And so Earl Rognvald

and his host went into that agreement with the landsmen. But when it drew

near to Yule, Earl Rognvald called his men to a talk, and said,—

“‘Now have we sat here awhile, and yet we have had nothing to do with

the castlemen, but the landsmen are getting rather slack in their

dealings with us. Methinks they think that what we promised them will

have no fulfilment; but still that is not manly not to turn our hands to

what we have promised. Now, kinsman Erling, will I take counsel from you

in what way we shall win the castle, for I know that ye are here some of

you the greatest men for good counsel; but still I will beg all those men

who are here that each will throw in what he thinks is likeliest to be

worth trying.’

“Erling answered the earl’s speech: ‘I will not be silent at your

bidding. But I am not a man for counsel, and it would be better rather

to call on those men for that who have seen more, and are more wont to

such exploits, as is Eindrid the Young. But here it will be as the saying

goes, “You must shoot at a bird before you get him.” And so we will try

to give some counsel, whatever comes of it. We shall to-day, if it seems

to you not bad counsel or to the other shipmasters, go all of us to the

wood, and bear each of us three shoulder-bundles of fagots on our backs

under the castle; for it seems to me as though the lime will not be

trusty if a great fire is brought to it. We shall let this go on for the

three next days and see what turn things take.’

“They did as Erling bade; and when that toil was over, it was come right

on to Yule. The bishop would not let them make their onslaught while the

Yule high feast stood over them.

“That chief’s name was Godfrey who dwelt in the castle; he was a wise

man, and somewhat stricken in years. He was a good clerk, and had

fared far and wide, and knew many tongues. He was a grasping man and

a very unfair man. He called together his men when he saw Rognvald’s

undertakings, and said to them,—

“‘This scheme seems to me clever and harmful to us which the Northmen

have taken in hand. It will befall us thus if fire is borne against us,

that the stone wall round the castle will be untrustworthy. But the

Northmen are strong and brave; we shall have to look for a sharp fight

from them if they get a chance. I will now take counsel with you what

shall be done in this strait which has befallen us.’ But his men all bade

him see to that for them. Then he began to speak, and said, ‘My first

counsel is that ye shall bind a cord round me and let me slide down from

the castle wall to-night. I shall have on bad clothes, and fare into the

camp of the Northmen, and know what I can find out.’

“This counsel was taken as he had laid it down. And when Godfrey came to

Earl Rognvald he said he was an old beggar carle, and spoke in Spanish;

they understood that tongue best. He fared about among all the booths and

begged for food. He found out that there was great envy and splitting

into parties amongst the Northmen. Eindrid was the head of one side,

but the earl of the other. Godfrey came to Eindrid and got to talk with

him, and brought that before him that the chief who held the castle had

sent him thither. ‘He will have fellowship with thee, and he hopes that

thou wilt give him peace if the castle be won. He would rather that thou

shouldst have his treasures, if thou wilt do so much in return for them,

than those who would rather see him a dead man.’ Of such things they

talked and much besides. But the earl was kept in the dark; all this went

on by stealth at first. And when Godfrey had stayed a while with the

earl’s men, then he turned back to his men. But this was why they did

not flit what they owned out of the castle, because they did not know

whether the storm would take place at all; besides they could not trust

the landfolk.

“It was the tenth day of Yule that Earl Rognvald rose up. The weather

was good. Then he bade his men put on their arms, and let the host be

called up to the castle with the trumpet. Then they drew the wood towards

it, and piled a bale round about the wall. The earl drew up his men for

the onslaught where each of them should go. The earl goes against it

from the south with the Orkneyingers, Erling and Aslag from the west,

John and Gudorm from the east, Eindrid the Young from the north with his

followers. And when they were boun for the storm they cast fire into the

bale.

“Now they began to press on fast both with fire and weapons. Then they

shot hard into the work for they could not reach them by any other

attack. The castlemen stood loosely here and there on the wall, for they

had to guard themselves against the shots. They poured out too burning

pitch and brimstone, and the earl’s men took little harm by that. Now it

turned out as Erling had guessed, that the castle wall crumbled before

the fire when the lime would not stand it, and there were great breaches

in it.

“Sigmund Angle was the name of a man in the earl’s bodyguard; he was

Sweyn Asliefson’s step-son. He pressed on faster than any man to the

castle, and ever went on before the earl; he was then scarcely grown up.

And when the storm had lasted awhile, then all men fled from the castle

wall. The wind was on from the south, and the reek of the smoke lay

towards Eindrid and his men. And when the fire began to spread very fast,

then the earl made them bring water and cool the rubble that was burned.

And then there was a lull in the assault.

“After that the earl made ready to storm, and Sigmund Angle with him.

There was then but a little struggle, and they got into the castle. There

many men were slain, but those who would take life gave themselves up

to the earl’s power. There they took much goods, but they did not find

the chief, and scarcely any precious things. Then there was forthwith

much talk how Godfrey could have got away; and then at once they had the

greatest doubt of Eindrid the Young, that he must have passed him away

somehow, and that he (Godfrey) must have gone away under the smoke to the

wood.

“After that Earl Rognvald and his host stayed there a short time in

Galicialand, and held on west off Spain. They harried wide in that part

of Spain which belonged to the heathen, and got there much goods. After

that they sailed west off Spain, and got there a great storm, and lay

three days at anchor, so that they shipped very much water, and it lay

near that they had lost their ships. After that they hoisted their sails

and beat out to Njorfa Sound [the Strait of Gibraltar] with a very cross

wind. They sailed through Njorfa Sound, and then the weather began to

get better. And then, as they bore out of the sound, Eindrid the Young

parted company from the earl with six ships. He sailed over the sea to

Marseilles, but Rognvald and his ships lay behind at the sound; and men

talked much about it, how Eindrid had now himself given proof whether or

not he had helped Godfrey away.

“Nothing is told of the voyage of the earl and his men before they came

south off Sarkland, and lay in the neighbourhood of Sardinia, and knew

not what land they were near. The weather had turned out in this wise,

that a great calm set in and mists and smooth seas—though the nights

were light—and they saw scarcely at all from their ships, and so they

made little way. One morning it happened that the mist lifted. Men stood

up and looked about them. Then the earl asked if men saw anything new.

They said they saw nought but two islets, little and steep, and when

they looked for the islets the second time, then one of the islets was

gone. They told this to the earl. He began to say, ‘That can have been no

islets. That must be ships which men have out here in this part of the

world, which they call dromonds; those are ships big as holms to look on.

But there, where the other dromond lay, a breeze must have come down on

the sea, and they must have sailed away; but these must be wayfaring men,

either chapmen or faring in some other way on their business.’

“After that the earl lets them call to him the bishop and all the

shipmasters; then he began to say: ‘I call you together for this, lord

bishop and Erling, my kinsman: see ye any scheme or chance of ours that

we may win victory in some way over those who are on the dromond.’ The

bishop answers: ‘Hard, I guess, will it be for you to run your long-ships

under the dromond, for ye will have no better way of boarding than by

grappling the bulwarks with a broad-axe; but they will have brimstone and

boiling pitch to throw under your feet and over your heads. Ye may see,

earl, so wise as you are, that it is the greatest rashness to lay one’s

self and one’s men in such risk.’

“Then Erling began to speak: ‘Lord bishop,’ he says, ‘likely it is that

ye are best able to see this, that there will be little hope of victory

in rowing against them. But somehow it seems to me that though we try to

run under the dromond, so methinks it will be that the greatest weight

of weapons will fall beyond our ships, if we hug her close, broadside to

broadside. But if it be not so, then we can put off from them quickly,

for they will not chase us in the dromond.’

“The earl began to say: ‘That is spoken like a man and quite to my mind.

I will now make that clear to the shipmasters and all the crews, that

each man shall busk him in his room, and arm himself as he best can.

After that we will row up to them. But if they are Christian chapmen,

then it will be in our power to make peace with them; but if they are

heathen, as I feel sure they are, then Almighty God will yield us that

mercy that we shall win the victory over them. But of the war spoil which

we get there, we shall give the fiftieth penny to poor men.’ After that,

men got out their arms and heightened the bulwarks of their ships, and

made themselves ready according to the means which they had at hand. The

earl settles where each of his ships should run in. Then they made an

onslaught on her by rowing, and pulled up to her as briskly as they could.

“But when those who were aboard the dromond saw that ships were rowing

up to them, they took silken stuffs and costly goods and hung them out

on the bulwarks, and then made great shoutings and hailings; and it

seemed to the earl’s men as though they dared the Northmen to come on

against them. Earl Rognvald laid his ship aft alongside the dromond on

the starboard, but Erling, too, aft on the larboard. John and Aslak, they

laid their ships forward each on his own board, but the others amidships

on both boards; and all the ships hugged her close, broadside to

broadside. And when they came under the dromond, her sides were so high

out of the water that they could not reach up with their weapons. But the

foe poured down blazing brimstone and flaming pitch over them. And it was

as Erling guessed it would be, that the greatest weight of weapons fell

out beyond the ships, and they had no need to shield themselves on that

side which was next to the dromond, but those who were on the other side

held their shields over their heads and sheltered themselves in that way.

“And when they made no way with their onslaught, the bishop shoved his

ship off and two others, and they picked out and sent thither their

bowmen, and they lay within shot, and shot thence at the dromond, and

then that onslaught was the hardest that was made. Then those on board

the dromond got under cover, but thought little about what those were

doing who had laid their ships under the dromond. Earl Rognvald called

out then to his men, that they should take their axes and hew asunder the

broadside of the dromond in the parts where she was least iron-bound. But

when the men in the other ships saw what the earl’s men were about, they

also took the like counsel.

“Now, where Erling and his men had laid their ship a great anchor hung

on the dromond, and the fluke was hung by the crook over the bulwark,

but the stock pointed down to Erling’s ship. Audun the Red was the name

of Erling’s bowman; he was lifted up on the anchor-stock. But after that

he hauled up to him more men, so that they stood as thick as ever they

could on the stock, and thence hewed at the sides as they best could, and

that hewing was by far the highest up. And when they had hewn such large

doors that they could go into the dromond, they made ready to board, and

the earl and his men got into the lower hold, but Erling and his men into

the upper. And when both their bands had come up on the ship there was a

fight both great and hard. On board the dromond were Saracens, what we

call Mahomet’s unbelievers. There were many blackamoors, and they made

the hardest struggle. Erling got there a great wound on his neck near his

shoulders as he sprang up into the dromond. That healed so ill that he

bore his head on one side ever after. That was why he was called Wryneck.

“And when they met Earl Rognvald and Erling, the Saracens gave way before

them to the fore-part of the ship, but the earl’s men then boarded her

one after another. Then they were more numerous, and they pressed the

enemy hard. They saw that on board the dromond was one man who was both

taller and fairer than the others; the Northmen held it to be the truth

that that man must be their chief. Earl Rognvald said that they should

not turn their weapons against him, if they could take him in any other

way. Then they hemmed him in and bore him down with their shields, and

so he was taken and afterwards carried to the bishop’s ship, and few men

with him. They slew there much folk, and got much goods and many costly

things. When they had ended the greatest part of their toil, they sat

down and rested themselves.

“Men spoke of these tidings which had happened there. Then each spoke of

what he thought he had seen; and men talked about who had been the first

to board the dromond, and could not agree about it. Then some said that

it was foolish that they should not all have one story about these great

things; and the end of it was that they agreed that Earl Rognvald should

settle the dispute, and afterwards they should all back what he said.

“When they had stripped the dromond they put fire into her and burnt her.

And when that tall man whom they had made captive saw that, he was much

stirred, and changed colour, and could not hold himself still. But though

they tried to make him speak, he never said a word and made no manner

of sign, nor did he pay any heed to them whether they promised him good

or ill. But when the dromond began to blaze, they saw as though blazing

molten ore ran down into the sea. That moved the captive man much. They

were quite sure then that they had looked for goods carelessly, and now

the metal had melted in the heat of the fire, whether it had been gold or

silver.

“Earl Rognvald and his men sailed thence south under Sarkland, and lay

under a seaburg, and made a seven nights’ truce with the townsmen, and

had dealings with them, and sold them the men whom they had taken. No

man would buy the tall man. And after that the earl gave him leave to go

away and four men with him. He came down the next morning with a train

of men and told them that he was a prince of Sarkland, and had sailed

thence with the dromond and all the goods that were aboard her. He said,

too, he thought that worst of all that they burnt the dromond, and made

such waste of that great wealth that it was of no use to any one. ‘But

now I have great power over your affairs. Now you shall have the greatest

good from me for having spared my life and treated me with such honour

as ye could; but I would be very willing that we saw each other never

again. And so now live safe and sound and well.’ After that he rode up

the country, but Earl Rognvald sailed thence south to Crete, and they lay

there in very foul weather.

“The earl and his men lay under Crete till they got a fair wind for

Jewry-land, and came to Acreburg early on a Friday morning, and landed

then with such great pomp and state as was seldom seen there. The earl

and his men stayed in Acreburg a while. There sickness came into their

ranks, and many famous men breathed their last. There Thorbjorn the

Swarthy, a liegeman, breathed his last.

“Earl Rognvald and his men then fared from Acreburg, and sought all the

holiest places in the land of Jewry. They all fared to Jordan and bathed

there. Earl Rognvald and Sigmund Angle swam across the river and went

up on the bank there, and thither where was a thicket of brushwood, and

there they twisted great knots. After that they fared back to Jerusalem.

“Earl Rognvald and his men fared that summer from the land of Jewry, and

meant to go north to Micklegarth [Constantinople], and came about autumn

to that town which is called Imbolar. They stayed there a very long time

in the town. They had that watchword in the town, if men met one another

walking where it was throng and narrow, and the one thought it needful

that the other who met him should yield him the path, then he says thus,

‘Out of the way; out of the way.’ One evening as the earl and his men

were coming out of the town, and Erling Wryneck went out along the wharf

to his ship, some of the townsmen met him and called out, ‘Out of the

way; out of the way.’ Erling was very drunk, and made as though he heard

them not, and when they ran against one another, Erling fell off the

wharf and down into the mud which was below; and his men ran down to pick

him up, and had to strip off every stitch of his clothes and wash him.

Next morning when he and the earl met, and he was told what had happened,

he smiled at it.

“After that they fared away thence. And nothing is told of their voyage

before they come north to Engilsness [Cape St. Angelo]. There they lay

some nights and waited for a wind which would seem fair to them to sail

north along the sea to Micklegarth. They took great pains then with

their sailing, and so sailed with great pomp, just as they had heard that

Sigurd Jewry-farer had done.

“When Earl Rognvald and his men came to Micklegarth they had a hearty

welcome from the emperor and the Varangians. Menelaus was then emperor

over Micklegarth, whom we call Manuel. He gave the earl much goods, and

offered them bounty-money if they would stay there. They stayed there

awhile that winter in very good cheer. There was Eindrid the Young, and

he had very great honour from the emperor. He had little to do with Earl

Rognvald and his men, and rather tried to set other men against them.

“Earl Rognvald set out on his voyage home that winter from Micklegarth,

and fared first west to Bulgarialand, to Dyrrachburg. Thence he sailed

west across the sea to Poule. There Earl Rognvald and Bishop William and

Erling, and all the nobler men of their band, landed from their ships,

and got them horses and rode thence first to Rome, and so homewards on

the way from Rome until they come to Denmark, and thence they fared north

to Norway. There men were glad to see them, and this voyage was most

famous, and they who had gone on it were thought to be men of much more

worth after than before.”

_From the “Orkneyinga Saga,” translated by Sir G. W. Dasent, D.C.L.

(By permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office.)_

[Illustration: _A Great Viking._

_(From the picture by H. W. Koekkoek.)_]

SWEYN ASLEIFSON, THE LAST OF THE VIKINGS.

The sudden disappearance of Earl Paul, by which Earl Rognvald had been

left in sole possession of the Orkneys, was, as we have said, due to a

certain Viking, Sweyn Asleifson of Gairsay. This Sweyn is one of the

most remarkable men in all Orcadian history. Among the Vikings of old he

was the greatest, and he was the last. Of him the Saga says: “He was the

greatest man in the western lands, either in old time or at the present

day.”

For the slaying of one of Earl Paul’s men Sweyn had had to escape out of

the isles. He abode for a time in the Hebrides, and afterwards sought

refuge in the dales of Scotland, where Margaret, the daughter of Earl

Hakon, was married to Maddad, Earl of Athole. He had promised to help

Harald, their son, to become Earl of the Orkneys, and it was with a view

to this that he kidnapped Earl Paul.

On that morning Earl Paul had gone out early from Westness to hunt the

otter near Scabro Head. Sweyn had sailed over from Thurso, keeping to the

west of Hoy and the Mainland, and was now rowing into Evie Sound, for

he had heard that Earl Paul was staying with Sigurd of Westness. As they

rowed near the land, Sweyn ordered all his men to lie hid except those at

the oars, that the ship might look like a peaceful merchant-vessel.

When the earl saw the ship rowing near the rocks, he called out to the

men that they should go on to Westness with their wares for Earl Paul.

Then Sweyn, who was lying hid, bade his men ask where the earl was.

“The earl is here on the rocks,” was the reply.

“Row quickly to land at a place where they will not see us,” said Sweyn

to his men; “and let us arm ourselves, for we have work to do.”

The ship was rowed to the shore, as he had said, and Sweyn and his men

armed themselves and fell upon Earl Paul and his company. These, being

unarmed, were soon disposed of. The earl was seized and taken aboard the

ship, and Sweyn immediately set sail for Scotland by the way he had come.

Sigurd marvelled when the earl did not return from his hunting, and

men were sent out to look for him. They came upon the bodies of the

slain—nineteen of the earl’s men and six strangers—but the earl himself

had disappeared. It was at first thought that Earl Rognvald had had

something to do with his disappearance, and it was many days before men

knew what had become of the vanished earl.

In the meantime Sweyn had carried Paul to Athole, and placed him in the

keeping of Maddad and Margaret. His after fate is unknown. The story

which Sweyn afterwards told is that Paul did not wish to return to

Orkney, so shameful had been the manner of his leaving it; and that he

wished it to be reported that he had been blinded or maimed, in order

that men should not seek to bring him back. Sweyn himself came back to

Orkney with this story; and he acknowledged Earl Rognvald, and became

very friendly with him.

As the great Earl of Warwick has been called “the king-maker” in England,

so Sweyn may be called the “earl-maker” in Orkney. He it was who caused

Harald, the son of Maddad, to be made earl, and he also supported Earl

Erlend in his claims while Earl Rognvald was in the Holy Land. He gained

the friendship of David, King of Scots, Viking though he was, and the

terror of the Scottish and Irish seas. Many of Sweyn’s Viking raids

are told in the Orkney Saga, one of the most famous being that known

as Sweyn’s “Broadcloth Cruise.” The following account is given of this

cruise, and of the death of Sweyn:—

“These tidings happened once on a time, that Sweyn Asleifson fared away

on his spring-cruise, and Hakon, Earl Harald’s son, fared with him; and

they had five ships with oars, and all of them large. They harried about

among the Southern Isles. Then the folk were so scared at him in the

Southern Isles that men hid all their goods and chattels in the earth or

in piles of rocks. Sweyn sailed as far south as Man, and got ill off for

spoil. Thence they sailed out under Ireland and harried there. But when

they came about south under Dublin, then two keels sailed there from off

the main, which had come from England, and meant to steer for Dublin;

they were laden with English cloths, and great store of goods was aboard

them.

“Sweyn and his men pulled up to the keels and offered them battle. Little

came of the defence of the Englishmen before Sweyn gave the word to

board. Then the Englishmen were made prisoners. And there they robbed

them of every penny which was aboard the keels, save that the Englishmen

kept the clothes they stood in and some food, and went on their way

afterwards with the keels; but Sweyn and his men fared to the Southern

Isles and shared their war-spoil.

“They sailed from the west with great pomp. They did this as a glory for

themselves when they lay in harbours, that they threw awnings of English

cloth over their ships. But when they sailed into the Orkneys, they sewed

the cloth on the fore-part of the sails, so that it looked in that wise

as though the sails were made altogether of broadcloth. This they called

the Broadcloth Cruise.

“Sweyn fared home to his house in Gairsay. He had taken from the keels

much wine and English mead. Now when Sweyn had been at home a short

while, he bade to him Earl Harald, and made a worthy feast against his

coming. When Earl Harald was at the feast, there was much talk amongst

them of Sweyn’s good cheer. The earl spoke and said: ‘This I would now,

Sweyn, that thou wouldst lay aside thy sea-rovings; ’tis good now to

drive home with a whole wain. But thou knowest this, that thou hast long

maintained thyself and thy men by sea-roving; but so it fares with most

men who live by unfair means, that they lose their lives in strife, if

they do not break themselves from it.’

“Then Sweyn answered, and looked to the earl, and spoke with a smile,

and said thus: ‘Well spoken is this, lord, and friendly spoken, and it

will be good to take a bit of good counsel from you; but some men lay

that to your door, that ye too are men of little fairness.’ The earl

answered: ‘I shall have to answer for my share, but a gossiping tongue

drives me to say what I do.’

“Sweyn said: ‘Good, no doubt, drives you to it, lord. And so it shall be,

that I will leave off sea-roving, for I find that I am growing old, and

strength lessens much in hardships and warfare. Now I will go out on my

autumn-cruise, and I would that it might be with no less glory than the

spring-cruise was; but after that my wayfaring shall be over.’ The earl

answers: ‘’Tis hard to see, messmate, whether death or lasting luck will

come first.’ After that they dropped talking about it. Earl Harald fared

away from the feast, and was led out with fitting gifts. So he and Sweyn

parted with great love-tokens.

“A little while after, Sweyn busks him for his roving cruise; he had

seven long-ships, and all great. Hakon, Earl Harald’s son, went along

with Sweyn on his voyage. They held on their course first to the Southern

Isles, and got there little war-spoil; thence they fared out under

Ireland, and harried there far and wide. They fared so far south as

Dublin, and came upon them there very suddenly, so that the townsmen were

not ware of them before they had got into the town. They took there much

goods. They made prisoners there those men who were rulers there in the

town. The upshot of their business was that they gave the town up into

Sweyn’s power, and agreed to pay as great a ransom as he chose to lay

upon them. Sweyn was also to hold the town with his men and to have rule

over it. The Dublin men sware an oath to do this. Next morning Sweyn was

to come into the town and take the ransom.

“Now it must be told of what happened in the town during the night. The

men of good counsel who were in the town held a meeting among themselves,

and talked over the straits which had befallen them; it seemed to them

hard to let their town come into the power of the Orkneyingers, and

worst of all of that man whom they knew to be the most unjust man in the

western lands. So they agreed amongst themselves that they would cheat

Sweyn if they might. They took that counsel, that they dug great trenches

before the burg-gate on the inside, and in many other places between the

houses where it was meant that Sweyn and his men should pass; but men

lay in wait there in the houses hard by with weapons. They laid planks

over the trenches, so that they should fall down as soon as ever a man’s

weight comes on them. After that they strewed straw on the planks so that

the trenches might not be seen, and so bided the morrow.

“On the morning after, Sweyn and his men arose and put on their arms;

after that they went to the town. And when they came inside beyond the

burg-gate, the Dublin men made a lane from the burg-gate right to the

trenches. Sweyn and his men saw not what they were doing, and ran into

the trenches. The townsmen then ran straightway to hold the burg-gate,

but some to the trenches, and brought their arms to bear on Sweyn and his

men. It was unhandy for them to make any defence, and Sweyn lost his

life there in the trenches, and all those who had gone into the town.

So it was said that Sweyn was the last to die of all his messmates, and

spoke these words ere he died: ‘Know this, all men, whether I lose my

life to-day or not, that I am one of the Saint Earl Rognvald’s bodyguard,

and I now mean to put my trust in being there where he is with God.’

Sweyn’s men fared at once to their ships and pulled away, and nothing is

told about their voyage before they come into the Orkneys.”

_From the “Orkneyinga Saga,” translated by Sir G. W. Dasent, D.C.I.

(By permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office.)_

[Illustration]

THE DECAY OF THE EARLDOM AND THE END OF THE WESTERN KINGDOM.

After the death of Earl Rognvald, the islands were ruled for almost fifty

years by Harald Maddadson. Harald’s later days were full of troubles.

With the decay of his powers the glory of the earldom also faded away. In

1194, when Sverrir was King of Norway, a rebellion took place, with the

object of placing Sigurd Erlingson on the throne. Sigurd’s party, known

as the “Eyjarskeggjar” or “Island-beardies,” had their headquarters in

the Orkneys. There they collected their forces, and there the rebellion

was organized. The rebels were completely overthrown in a great battle

fought near Bergen. Sverrir summoned Earl Harald before him in 1196 to

answer for his share in the matter. As a punishment for permitting plots

against him to be hatched in Orkney—plots which the gray-haired old earl

had been powerless to prevent—the king compelled him to surrender the

government of Shetland. For nearly two centuries thereafter Orkney and

Shetland were separate, the former ruled by the earl, the latter by a

governor appointed by the Norwegian crown.

The result of this was twofold. In the first place it weakened the power

of the Orkney earldom; in the second place it caused the earldom to draw

nearer to Scotland, and to come more and more under Scottish influence.

But the aged earl’s cup of sorrow was not yet full. He quarrelled also

with the Scottish king. As a consequence of this quarrel he was stripped

of his Scottish possessions, and his son Thorfinn perished miserably, a

prisoner in Roxburgh Castle. When Earl Harald died in 1206, full of years

and of sorrows, the earldom was but the shadow of its former self.

After Harald’s death, his two sons, John and David, succeeded to the

earldom. David did not live long, and John was then left sole earl. This

earl, the last of the old Norse jarls, was Earl of Orkney excluding

Shetland, holding that earldom from the Norwegian king, and Earl of

Caithness, including Sutherland, holding that from the King of Scotland.

Matters continued in this state generally till the pledging of the

islands in 1468, the only change being that Shetland was again added to

the Orkney earldom in 1379, when Henry, the first of the St. Clairs,

became earl.

The days of Earl John, like those of his father, were stormy, and

disaster after disaster fell upon the isles. The burning of Bishop Adam

at Halkirk in Caithness brought down on the earl the vengeance of King

Alexander the Second of Scotland. The earl had no hand in the murder,

but he was near by, and, in the opinion of King Alexander, might have

prevented the tragedy. Then a feud arose between the earl and some of

the leaders of a Norse expedition to the Western Isles. The earl was

attacked suddenly in Thurso, and there murdered. This took place in

the year 1231. The murderers took refuge in the Castle of Weir, where

they were besieged by the earl’s friends and adherents. Ultimately both

parties agreed that the case should be submitted to the Norwegian king.

The chief men of the islands embarked for Norway to be present at the

trial of the murderers, which ended in their conviction and punishment.

But a terrible disaster for the Orkney earldom followed. All the leading

men of the islands left Norway in one ship, and set sail for Orkney late

in autumn. Stormy weather set in shortly after their departure. Fears

which were entertained for the safety of the ship proved to be only too

well founded: the ship was never heard of again. With her went down

nearly all the nobility of the earldom. This disaster, which happened in

1232, was irremediable. Well does the Saga of Hakon Hakonson say, “Many

men have had to suffer for this later.” The earldom never recovered from

the loss of its best blood, and but for this loss the after course of

events might have been very different. Henceforth the Orkney earldom

plays but a subordinate part in the history of the North.

In 1232 King Alexander of Scotland granted the Earldom of Caithness to

Magnus, son of Gilbride, Earl of Angus. Magnus was at the same time

confirmed in the Earldom of Orkney by the King of Norway. But King

Alexander made Sutherland a separate earldom, William Friskyn being

created first earl. Thus within a period of forty years the earldom,

which had at one time rivalled the power of Scotland itself, and had been

at once the centre and the defence of the Norse Empire in the west, was

stripped of more than half its territories.

The Scottish king had a deep purpose to serve in thus weakening the

northern earldom. He was already casting covetous eyes on the Hebrides,

and every blow struck at the power of the Orkney earl was a step towards

the conquest of the Western Isles. In the heyday of Norse ascendency

there was danger of the western Norse colonies swallowing up Scotland

rather than of Scotland swallowing up these colonies. But Hakon of Norway

was now too busy at home repressing internal disorders to give much

thought to the ambitions of the Scottish king, and the Orkney earl was

too weak to form a serious obstacle, besides which he was more than half

Scottish himself.

For many years the chiefs of the Hebrides and the Western Isles had been

wavering in their allegiance to the Norwegian crown. King Alexander was

also doing his utmost to undermine Norse influence in the west. While he

was carrying on intrigues with the western chiefs, he at the same time

kept sending embassies to Norway to treat with Hakon for the purchase of

these islands. Hakon’s answer was brief and decided: He was not yet so

much in want of money that he needed to sell his lands for it.

The next King of Scotland, Alexander the Third, had the same ambitions as

his father, and as resolutely pursued his schemes for the subjugation of

the Hebrides. He was, moreover, a young, energetic, and warlike king. He

found the island chiefs very troublesome neighbours. His father’s policy

of intrigue was too slow for him, and he determined to take by force what

he could not obtain by treaty.

In 1262 the Scots invaded the Norse dominions in the west. Hakon, who had

now pacified his own kingdom, was at last roused to make a serious effort

to preserve his over-sea dominions. In the summer of 1263 he “let letters

of summons be sent round all Norway, and called out the levies both of

men and stores as he thought the land could bear it. He summoned all the

host to meet him early in the summer at Bergen.”

A mighty fleet assembled in obedience to the king’s command, and, under

the leadership of Hakon himself, set sail from Norway in the end of July

1263. After delaying through the summer in Shetland and Orkney, this

ill-fated expedition reached the Firth of Clyde in late autumn. Alexander

the Third, knowing well that he could not hope to meet the Norsemen at

sea, prepared to give them as warm a reception as possible wherever

they might land. In the meantime he pretended to be anxious for peace.

Negotiations were opened between the two kings. Alexander temporized:

winter was approaching.

Hakon’s patience at last gave way, and breaking off negotiations, the

Norsemen began to harry the country, receiving willing aid from the

various half-Celtic chieftains, who enjoyed nothing so much as an

opportunity of ravaging the fertile Lowlands. But that ally whose coming

Alexander had been awaiting came at length; on the first of October

a great storm from the south-west arose suddenly during the night.

Hakon’s ships began to drag their anchors. They fouled each other in

the darkness, and several were driven ashore on the Ayrshire coast. When

morning dawned, Hakon found his own ship within bowshot of the shore,

while the Scots were already plundering one which had stranded near by.

During a lull in the storm Hakon managed to land a detachment of his men

to protect the stranded galley. But the storm increased in fury once

more. The Norsemen on shore were outnumbered probably by ten to one, and

no help could be sent from the ships. The Vikings threw themselves into

a circle bristling with spear-points. Onset after onset of the Scots

forced the ring of spears slowly back towards the shore, but they could

not break it. All day long the battle raged—the Norsemen with the angry

sea behind them, and no hope of succour from their fleet; the Scots

determined to drive the invaders into the sea, or slay them where they

stood.

As evening began to fall the storm moderated, and Hakon was able to send

reinforcements on shore. The Scots were borne backwards by the onset

of the fresh warriors. But night was falling, and the Norsemen were

anxious to get back to their ships, for the storm was not yet over. They

accordingly hastened to take advantage of the breathing-space which they

had won, and retired to their ships.

Such was the famous battle of Largs, which both Scots and Norsemen claim

as a victory. In itself it was little more than a skirmish; but the

events of that night and day, the storm and the battle together, gave the

death-blow to Norse dominion in the west. The heart of King Hakon failed

him. His men also were discouraged. The shattered remains of the once

splendid fleet set sail for Orkney, and the great invasion of Scotland

was over.

Broken in spirit and shattered in health, Hakon reached Orkney only to

die. Part of his fleet was ordered to proceed to Norway, and part was

laid up for the winter in Scapa Bay and Houton Cove. Scarcely had these

matters been attended to when his fatal sickness seized the king. In the

Bishop’s Palace in Kirkwall he spent his last hours. Here at midnight, on

Saturday, December 15, 1263, in the sixtieth year of his eventful life,

died Hakon Hakonson, the last of the great sea-kings of Norway.

The remains of the king were carried to the cathedral, where they lay in

state, and were afterwards temporarily interred in the choir near the

shrine of St. Magnus. When spring came, Hakon’s body was exhumed and

taken to Bergen in Norway, where it was finally laid to rest in the choir

of Christ Church.

After the death of Hakon, his son Magnus, now King of Norway, sent

ambassadors to the Scottish king to treat for peace, and a treaty was

signed at Perth in 1266. By this treaty Norway resigned her rights in the

Hebrides, in consideration of Scotland’s paying down four thousand marks,

besides a tribute of one hundred marks to be paid annually in St. Magnus

Cathedral, Kirkwall. This tribute, called the Annual of Norway, was the

direct cause of the troubles which preceded the marriage of James the

Third of Scotland and Princess Margaret of Denmark.

A large proportion of King Hakon’s forces had to be maintained in Orkney

during the winter succeeding Largs. To provide for this, the lands of

the earldom were divided into sections, and charged with the maintenance

of the soldiers in proportion to the amount of “skatt” each section

owed the king. The Skatt Book of the earldom was prepared—a list of

the lands therein, and the amount of skatt which they paid. It was the

Domesday Book of the Orkneys. On this Skatt Book were based the Scottish

Rentals, which came into such prominence in the history of the Scottish

oppressions during the sixteenth century.

[Illustration: _Ruins of the Bishop’s Palace, Kirkwall._]

THE ANNEXATION TO SCOTLAND.

The history of Orkney during the two centuries which intervened

between the battle of Largs and the annexation to Scotland contains

little of interest. The earldom was held by Scottish families, first

the Strathernes, and then the St. Clairs. The sympathies of the earls

were with the Scots, the people were mainly Norse, and as a natural

consequence quarrels frequently arose between the earls and their

subjects. Another source of trouble was the fact that the earls generally

held possessions in Scotland, and were thus subjects of Scotland as

well as of Norway. The islands were neglected by both countries, being

of little importance to Norway as governed by foreigners, and of little

interest to Scotland as owned by a foreign country.

Several of the earls took a prominent part in the affairs of Scotland,

and were men of mark and highly esteemed by the Scottish sovereigns.

Thus Magnus, the last of the Angus line, was one of the eight Scottish

noblemen who, in 1320, subscribed the famous letter to the Pope asserting

the independence of Scotland; and Henry, the second of the St. Clairs,

was entrusted by King Robert the Third with the task of conveying the

young Prince James to a safe asylum in France, when that prince was made

prisoner by the English.

In the history of Orkney itself the only man of note among the Scottish

earls was Henry, the first of the St. Clairs, the builder of Kirkwall

Castle. Henry became earl in 1379. Under his rule Orkney and Shetland

were once more united. He is the only one of the Scottish earls who can

be at all compared with the old Norse jarls of Orkney. In everything

except name he was king of his island dominions, ruling them as he

pleased without much thought of either Norway or Scotland.

It was in the time of William, the third of the St. Clair earls, that

the transference of Orkney and Shetland to Scotland took place. The

circumstances which led to this important event must now be related.

After the battle of Largs a treaty of peace between Norway and Scotland

had been signed at Perth in 1266, Norway resigning the Hebrides in return

for an immediate payment by Scotland of four thousand marks, and in

addition a tribute of one hundred marks to be paid annually in St. Magnus

Cathedral, Kirkwall. For every failure to pay this tribute—known in

history as the Annual of Norway—Scotland was liable to a penalty of ten

thousand marks. This treaty was afterwards confirmed by Hakon the Fifth

and Robert the Bruce at Inverness in 1312.

In 1397 Norway, Sweden, and Denmark were united under one sovereign.

When, in 1448, Christian the First became king of the united realms,

payment by Scotland of the Annual of Norway had been neglected for some

forty years. According to the Treaty of Perth, Scotland was therefore

liable to a penalty of over four hundred thousand marks. Christian’s

exchequer was empty; here was an opportunity of replenishing it. About

1460 Christian made a threatening demand for payment of the whole sum due.

The sum demanded was so large that it would have been no easy matter for

Scotland to pay it, however willing she might be. Christian had concluded

an alliance with France, and France had always been the firm friend of

Scotland. When a rupture between Denmark and Scotland seemed inevitable,

the French king employed all his influence to secure a compromise. He

suggested that a marriage should be arranged between Prince James of

Scotland, afterwards James the Third, and Margaret, Christian’s daughter,

trusting that the negotiations in connection with the marriage would lead

to the friendly settlement of the matters in dispute.

Prolonged negotiations took place between the two countries. Scotland at

first demanded the remission of the Annual of Norway with arrears, the

cession of Orkney and Shetland, and a dowry of a hundred thousand crowns.

To these terms Christian refused to listen. The death of James the Second

at the siege of Roxburgh Castle suspended negotiations for a time. Some

years after the accession of James the Third they were resumed. The

final result was the Marriage Treaty of 1468, which brought about the

transference of Orkney and Shetland to Scotland.

The main provisions of the Marriage Treaty were these:—(1.) That the

Princess Margaret’s dowry should amount to fifty thousand florins; ten

thousand to be paid within the year, and the islands of Orkney to be

pledged for the remaining forty thousand.—Only two thousand florins were

paid, Shetland being pledged in the following year for the remaining

eight thousand. (2.) That the rights of Christian as King of Norway

should be exercised in the islands by the Scottish king until the forty

thousand florins were paid. (3.) That the islanders should enjoy their

own customs and laws while under Scottish rule.

Christian would not consent to the permanent cession of the islands to

Scotland under any conditions. In fact nothing but the direst financial

straits can account for his even pledging them. But he had just finished

a costly war in Sweden, his exchequer was empty, and the Scottish

marriage seemed to him very desirable.

On this Marriage Treaty of 1468, and on the agreement afterwards made

with Earl William, Scotland bases her claim to the islands of Orkney and

Shetland. It is certain that Christian intended to redeem the islands,

and even as late as 1668 the plenipotentiaries of Europe assembled at

Breda declared that Denmark—it ought to be Norway—still retained the

right to redeem them.

Scottish influence in Orkney had been increasing for many years previous

to the annexation. The needy dependants of the various Scottish noblemen

who held the earldom found the islands a happy hunting-ground for their

avarice or for their need. There was thus a strong party in Orkney in

favour of the annexation to Scotland. But the large majority of the

inhabitants could not but regard the change of masters with dismay.

Scotland was an alien power, and had usually been a hostile one. Her laws

and institutions had little in common with those of the northern earldom.

Besides this, her tenure being only temporary, she had no inducement

to promote the welfare of the islands, but on the contrary her obvious

interest was to make as much profit as possible from her opportunity.

From 1468 onwards, till long after the termination of Scottish and

the beginning of British rule, the lot of the islanders was far from

enviable. The transformation of the leading Norse earldom into a minor

Scottish county was the work of those years. The process by which this

was accomplished was a long-continued series of injuries and oppressions,

the story of which forms too long a tale to be fully told here.

[Illustration: _Knocking Stone and Mell._]

UDAL AND FEUDAL.

Orkney and Shetland were handed over to Scotland, but care was taken to

secure the rights of the inhabitants of the islands by the provision in

the treaty of 1468 that they should be governed according to their own

laws and usages. These were different from those of Scotland in several

important particulars. Unfortunately, the new Scottish rulers did not

know the laws of the earldom, and did not care to learn them.

With regard to the holding of land, the laws of Scotland were entirely

different from those of Orkney. In Scotland land was held according

to the feudal system, in Orkney according to the udal system. Under

the feudal system the king was nominally the owner of all the lands in

the kingdom. The various landlords held their lands from him as their

superior, in exchange for certain services to be rendered or payments to

be made, and by a written title, without which they had no legal claim to

the land.

The udal system has been described as “the direct negation of every

feudal principle.” The udaller held his land without any written title,

subject to no service or payment to a superior, and with full possession

and every conceivable right of ownership. The udaller was a peasant

noble; he was the king’s equal and not his vassal. He owed king or jarl

no services, duties, or payment for his udal lands, which he held as an

absolute possession, inalienable from him and his race.

It must not be supposed that all the land in Orkney was held udally, or

that all the inhabitants were udallers. There were some udallers who

held part of their land as tenants, and many of the islanders held no

udal land at all. All landholders, whether udallers or tenants, had to

pay a tax, called “skatt.” This was a tax levied to meet the expenses of

government and defence. Skatt was paid sometimes to the King of Norway,

sometimes to the Earl of Orkney, but it was legally the property of

the crown. Hakon, when he lay dying in Kirkwall, levied skatt on the

landholders of Orkney for the support of his troops during the winter.

In this he was only exercising the undoubted right of the crown of

Norway. But the skatt was never a rent, and never carried with it the

acknowledgment of king or jarl as the real landowner.

When Orkney came under Scottish rule, the King of Scotland became

entitled to the skatt. Some Scottish nobleman or churchman was usually

appointed to collect the revenues of the crown in the earldom. This

nobleman or churchman was paid a commission on what he collected,

together with any trifles he might extort “in ony manner of way.”

Sometimes the revenues of the earldom were farmed out to the collector,

an annual sum being paid by him into the royal treasury as rent. This

arrangement afforded much room for extortion, and all the more so because

the crown collector was ignorant, or could pretend to be ignorant, of

Orkney law and of the udal system.

In 1471 the Scottish crown purchased from Earl William all the lands and

revenues which he held as Earl of Orkney. In 1472 Bishop William Tulloch

was appointed to collect the revenues of the crown in Orkney. The period

of Scottish oppression at once began. The bishop was deeply imbued with

feudal prejudices. He had a rental drawn up, in which he registered the

lands of udaller and tenant indiscriminately, with a studied confusion

of their different rights. Both udal and feudal payments were exacted as

rents from all holders of land.

The udaller had no one to whom he could appeal to right his wrongs and

protect him against oppression. He had no written titles. The bishop

ruled the bishopric as bishop, and he ruled the earldom as representative

of the crown. The churches were filled with Scottish priests subservient

to his will. The struggle was hopeless from the beginning, but it took a

century to reduce the peasant nobles of Orkney to the position and rank

of tenant farmers, and in the meantime the various rulers of the islands

reaped a rich harvest.

Bishop Tulloch’s rule lasted for seven years, and was followed by six

years under Bishop Andrew. Then in 1485 Henry St. Clair was appointed

representative of the crown in Orkney. The St. Clairs had always been

popular in the islands, and the islanders rejoiced at the appointment

of Lord Henry. He redressed a number of grievances, but the fundamental

change of udal into feudal which had begun went on unchecked. It was too

profitable a confusion to be put right.

After the death of Lord Henry St. Clair at Flodden, turmoil and confusion

reigned in the earldom. His widow, Lady Margaret Hepburn, held the crown

lands in Orkney for nearly thirty years, but she was quite unable to rule

the islands. A report got abroad that the king intended to give Orkney

a feudal lord. In 1529 the trouble came to a head. James St. Clair,

the most popular of that popular family, was made Governor of Kirkwall

Castle, and put himself at the head of the discontented faction. Open

rebellion followed. Lord William St. Clair, son of Lady Margaret remained

loyal, and had to escape to Caithness.

Allied with the Earl of Caithness, Lord William invaded the islands with

a considerable force. The invaders were met at Summerdale in Stenness by

the rebels under James St. Clair, and were defeated with great slaughter.

Many old stories about this battle still exist. The Caithness force

landed in Orphir, and on their march they are said to have encountered a

witch, whom they consulted as to the omens of success. She walked before

them, unwinding together two balls of thread, one blue and the other red.

She asked them to choose one of the balls as the symbol of their fortune,

and they chose the red. The red thread was the first to come to an end.

Unwilling to accept this omen, they demanded that the witch should give

them yet another sign. She thereupon informed the Earl of Caithness that

whichever side lost the first man in the fight would lose the day. Soon

afterwards a boy was met herding cattle, and by order of the earl he was

slain. Only after the deed was done did they discover that the boy was

not an Orcadian but a native of Caithness.

Already prepared for defeat by these bad omens, the invaders came upon

the Orcadian force at Summerdale. The Orcadians assailed them with

showers of stones, and the Caithness force was quickly destroyed. Only

one Orcadian is said to have fallen. He, having dressed himself in the

clothes of one of the fallen enemy, was slain in the dusk of the evening

as he returned home. His mother mistook him for one of the invading

force, and felled him by a blow with a stone in the foot of a stocking.

Such are some of the tales tradition has woven round this fight. It

was the last stand of the udallers, and the last pitched battle fought

on Orcadian soil, if we except the siege of Kirkwall Castle during the

rebellion of the Stewarts.

After the battle of Summerdale the islands still remained in a very

unsettled condition, until in 1540 James the Fifth thought his presence

necessary to restore tranquillity. The king stayed with the bishop in

Kirkwall, though not in the ancient Bishop’s Palace, which had witnessed

the death of King Hakon. The visit of the king led to the removal of many

abuses. But his death in 1542, and the long minority of his daughter,

Mary Queen of Scots, brought back the former evils in an aggravated

form. For twenty years the records of the islands are records of murder,

violence, and oppression. The udallers were now a comparatively feeble

folk, but their worst period of oppression was still to come.

THE STEWART EARLS.

In 1565 began the most cruel oppression which the islands suffered

under Scottish rule. Lord Robert Stewart, a son of James the Fifth and

half-brother of the Earl of Moray, obtained a feu charter of Orkney and

Shetland. This grant was illegal in every way. It was not sanctioned

by Parliament, and it disposed not only of the actual property which

the crown of Scotland had acquired in the islands, but of the lands and

services of the udallers or free landowners, which had never belonged

to Norway or Denmark, and could not therefore have been acquired by

Scotland. In exchange for the revenues of the Abbey of Holyrood, the new

earl also obtained possession of the lands and revenues of the Bishopric

of Orkney.

To oppress the udallers so as to compel them to accept feus from him

was the unvarying object of Earl Robert’s policy. He aggravated the

burdens of the islanders by making them use weights and measures of his

own devising, and increased their liabilities to him by a coinage of

his own valuation. He raised the rents of the tenants to the limits of

endurance, made every occasional or special payment an annual burden,

imposed parish taxes as household taxes, and by pretended decrees of the

Thing, or council, evicted many udallers without a show of justice. Heavy

tolls and duties were laid on all fishermen and traders who came to the

islands, and secret encouragement was given to pirates, whose booty was

shared by the earl.

The more bitter the complaints of the islanders, the more grievous became

their oppression. To prevent these complaints reaching the ears of the

authorities in Edinburgh, the earl forbade any one to cross the firths or

ferries without his permission. It began also to be whispered that Earl

Robert was plotting to sever once more the connection between Orkney and

the Scottish crown. He had made additions to the old palace at Birsay,

and on a stone over the principal gate he had caused to be inscribed:

DOMINUS ROBERTUS STEWARTUS FILIUS JACOBI QUINTI REX SCOTORUM HOC OPUS

INSTRUXIT—that is, “Earl Robert Stewart, son of James the Fifth, King of

the Scots, erected this building.” Those who know a little Latin will

observe that by his using the nominative case _rex_, it is Earl Robert

himself and not James the Fifth whom he describes as “King of the Scots.”

This was probably a mere mistake in the earl’s Latin, but a much graver

meaning was attached to it by the Scottish King and Parliament when the

whisper of treason somehow reached their ears.

The complaints of the udallers might be unheeded, but the accusation

of treason was a much more serious matter. The earl was summoned to

Edinburgh to answer the charges against him. He was kept for some time

a prisoner in Linlithgow Castle, but the storm quickly blew over. No

trial ever took place. That ordeal Earl Robert escaped by the help of his

powerful friends and relatives; and not only so, but in 1581 he was once

more granted the Earldom of Orkney and Shetland, with extended powers.

When Robert Stewart died, the islands were granted to his son, Patrick

Stewart, the most cruel oppressor of all. Skilful in tyranny and

extortion as Earl Robert had been, his son showed still more ability

and ingenuity in his evil courses. The multiplication of enactments

and penalties for the most trivial offences, confiscation, torture,

and judicial murder—these were the additions Earl Patrick made to the

machinery of oppression used by his father. He had palaces built for him

at Scalloway and at Kirkwall by the same forced labour that had already

reared Earl Robert’s palace in Birsay. But Earl Patrick’s career is best

described in the words of Mackenzie:—

“Earl Patrick—still remembered in Orkney tradition as ‘Black Pate’—was

a man of kingly ideas, and had his lot been cast in Egypt instead of in

Orkney, would have done very well as one of the Pharaohs. ‘Heaven is high

and the Czar is far away,’ says a Russian proverb. Orkney is far from

Holyrood and farther from London, and the earl did his own pleasure in

his domain, without having the fear of the distant king before his eyes.

“Most astounding and extraordinary was the system of tyranny and

extortion which he carried on. He accused one and another of the gentry

of the islands of high treason, and tried them in his own court. But

it was not his object to punish these gentlemen as traitors against

the king. In that case their forfeited estates would go to the king,

which would be no profit to the earl. The earl was not so simple. The

frightened udallers were glad enough to compound with the formidable earl

by making over to him a portion of their lands to save the remainder and

their own necks.

“The Orkney potentate dealt in exactions of every description. He

extorted taxes and duties. He created ferries and levied exorbitant tolls

on them. He compelled the people to work for him all manner of work. He

forced them to row his boats and man his ships, to toil in his quarries,

to convey stones and lime for the building of his palace and park walls,

and to perform whatever other kinds of slave-labour he chose to demand,

‘without either meat or drink or hire.’

“The Czar though far away sometimes hears at last. The doings of this

tyrant of the isles attracted the attention of the law. He was seized

and put in ward in Dumbarton Castle. What schemes were in his proud,

fierce head it is difficult to guess. This is known, that, under his

instructions, his son Robert occupied the castle of Kirkwall with armed

men, fortified the cathedral, and stood ready to hold his own.

“As soon as it became known in Edinburgh that Orkney was in rebellion,

the king’s Secret Council dispatched the Earl of Caithness to bring it

under. Two great cannons were wheeled down from Edinburgh Castle and

shipped at Leith along with a strong military force. The expedition

landed safely within a mile and a half of Kirkwall. The great cannons

were pointed against the castle. They shot and got their answer in shot.

The siege continued about a month, when the rebels gave in. Caithness

returned to Edinburgh with Robert Stewart and other prisoners, and the

two great cannons passed up the High Street in triumph, to the sound

of drum and trumpet, with the keys of Kirkwall Castle hanging at their

muzzles.

“Robert Stewart was condemned to death and hanged at the Market Cross

along with five of his accomplices. The people pitied him greatly, for it

was his father’s scheming that had led him to destruction. His father’s

execution soon followed. The ministers who tried to prepare him for

death, finding him so ignorant that he could not say the Lord’s Prayer,

asked the Council to delay his execution for a few days, till he could be

better informed. The request was granted, and then he went his way into

the great darkness.”

The rebellion of Earl Patrick led to the abolition of the Thing and the

ancient laws of Orkney and Shetland, but there was little change for

the better in the government of the islands. They were assigned to one

nobleman after another, no one having any interest in their improvement.

It was, indeed, not till the eighteenth century that any very great

effort was made to give them the benefits of good government and a chance

to regain somewhat of their ancient prosperity.

[Illustration: _Pot Querns and Saddle Quern._]

THE EIGHTEENTH AND NINETEENTH CENTURIES.

During the long period of oppression by the Scottish earls, the state of

our islands had been indeed deplorable, and recovery was slow. The spirit

was crushed out of the people. Industry was vain when plunder was sure

to follow. Agriculture could not advance when the alien landlord claimed

all the profit. An Orkney writer of the eighteenth century gives a sad

picture of the condition of the country in his day:—

“The inhabitants, in general, are very polite, hospitable, and kind to

strangers; but I am sorry to say that so little is industry encouraged

in our country that no means can be assigned by which the lower class of

people can get their bread. By reason of having no employment they must

live very wretchedly; they become indolent and lazy to the last degree,

insomuch that rather than raise cabbage for their own use they will steal

from others; and instead of being at pains to prepare the turf, which

they have for the mere trouble of cutting up and drying, yet, rather than

do so, they will steal it from those who are richer or more industrious

than themselves.... Every Saturday, which day they are privileged to

beg, a troop of miserable, ragged creatures are seen going from door to

door, almost numerous enough to plunder the whole town were they to exert

themselves against it in an hostile manner—at least, if their valour was

in proportion to their distress.”

The dawn of a brighter day came slowly, and it is difficult now to

trace the steps by which the prosperity of the islands was restored.

Agriculture remained in a very primitive state till the nineteenth

century had well begun. An Orkney “township” had a very different

appearance in those days from what we now see. The farms were not divided

from one another; each patch of cultivated ground belonged to all the

farmers in the township, who shared it on the “run-rig” system, each

“rig” being worked by a different owner.

The only pasture was the natural grass of meadow and hill, and this

also was common property. A “hill-dyke,” usually of turf, surrounded

the corn-land, and formed a somewhat indifferent protection against the

flocks of sheep, cattle, horses, and pigs which found their summer food

on the “hill.” The names “Slap” and “Grind,” borne by farmhouses in many

districts, remind us of the gateways in these old hill dykes.

With the corn-land subdivided in this way, and the pasture-land

undivided, there was no inducement for any farmer to improve his methods

of agriculture. Farm implements were of the rudest kind. The soil was

scratched rather than tilled by means of wooden ploughs with only

one stilt or handle, a model of which may be seen in the museum in

Stromness. There were no carts; loads were carried pannier-fashion on the

backs of horses, along the rough tracks or bridle-paths which served for

roads.

Of the old style of farmhouse scarcely a relic now remains. One entrance

usually served the farmer and his cattle, who lived under the same

roof, though in separate apartments. In the kitchen, or “but-end,” the

fireplace was simply a raised hearth in the centre of the room, with a

low wall or “back” against which the peat-fire was built. There was no

chimney, but a large opening in the roof allowed the smoke to escape in

a leisurely fashion. Behind the “back” there was often accommodation for

poultry, calves, and other domestic animals. The better class of houses

had beyond the kitchen a parlour, or “ben-end,” which was used only on

great occasions.

Rough and primitive as was their manner of life, yet at the beginning of

last century the Orcadians had already made a very considerable advance

in prosperity. A writer of the time tells us that the small farmers had

more money among them than could be found among people of similar station

in any other part of the British Isles.

It was not till the second quarter of the century that the land was

divided up into separate farms, and modern methods of agriculture began

to be employed, with rotation of crops and improved implements. A little

later the beginning was made of the system of roads which now spreads in

a network over the islands.

While agriculture was yet in its infancy, the islands were much benefited

by various forms of industry and occupation which have now mostly fallen

into disuse, as the need for their help has passed away. One of these

industries, introduced towards the end of the eighteenth century, was the

spinning of flax and the weaving of linen. Flax was largely grown in the

islands at one time, and the dressing, spinning, and weaving of it was a

common occupation.

About the beginning of the nineteenth century the manufacture of

straw-plait was introduced, and soon took the place of the linen

industry. It is said that over six thousand women and girls were at one

time employed in straw-plaiting. Though the workers were paid but little,

and that usually not in money but in goods, the straw-plaiting increased

considerably the wealth and the trade of the county.

The manufacture of kelp was introduced early in the eighteenth century,

and gave occupation to many of the inhabitants. Large profits were made

in this business, not so much, of course, by the actual workers as by the

landlords and other agents who exported the kelp. At one time, indeed,

it seemed as if the attention given to this industry was to prove a

hindrance to the advance of agriculture, which is the only foundation of

true prosperity in these islands; and when other substances began to take

the place of kelp, the decline of this trade was really a benefit to the

islands.

Fishing has always been an important industry in Orkney, but it was not

till near the middle of the nineteenth century that the improvements

in boats and in gear made the fisheries a really valuable asset to the

islanders. Fishing, however, cannot be called one of those temporary

industries which we mentioned. The herring fishery and the white

fishing, as well as other branches of this industry, have continued to

increase, and next to agriculture, fishing is the great natural source of

wealth for the people.

During the centuries now under our notice, Orkney had a closer connection

with the seafaring life than it has to-day. When all trade was carried

on by sailing ships, and when westerly winds were quite as common as

they now are, vessels passing through the Pentland Firth for America or

elsewhere found Stromness a convenient port of call, and its harbour

was often crowded with shipping. This was especially the case during

the French wars of the eighteenth century, when the English Channel

was avoided by shipping as being too near the enemy’s shores. Fleets

of trading ships used to gather at Stromness while waiting a convoy of

men-of-war to accompany them across the Atlantic.

An interesting relic of those busy times in Stromness is the old

Warehouse and Warehouse Pier at the north end of that town. This store

was built about the middle of the eighteenth century for the convenience

of the rice ships from America, as being the safest place for them to

discharge their cargoes. Before the end of the century, however, the

Stromness Warehouse was deserted in favour of Cowes in the Isle of Wight.

A writer of the time makes out a strong case in favour of Stromness and

against the English Channel, but the fact that Cowes is nearer to London

seems to have settled the matter in favour of that port.

During these prolonged naval wars, it is said that as many as twelve

thousand Orkneymen served in the navy. Many of them went as volunteers,

but probably most of them served against their will, as the pressgang

was very active among the islands. Many a young sailor who began his

voyage on a peaceful trader was soon transferred to one of His Majesty’s

ships. Traditions of those troublous times are still preserved among many

families in the islands. Hundreds of these men were never heard of again,

for those were not the days of telegraphs and war correspondents. The

years passed, and the son or the brother did not return, but when or how

he fell his friends never knew. It was a heavy war-tax the islands paid;

the full extent of it has never been disclosed.

About 1740 the ships of the Hudson’s Bay Company began to visit the

islands, not only to wait for a wind to start them on their annual

voyage, but to engage labourers and tradesmen to carry on the fur trade

among the Indians of the west and north of Canada. The connection thus

begun is not yet quite extinct, but in the earlier part of the nineteenth

century there was a constant stream of young men flowing to the Far West.

At one time from fifty to a hundred men left Stromness for Hudson Bay

every summer. Some remained as pioneers and colonists; some returned

after a sojourn of five years or more, with a tidy sum of money to start

them as farmers or tradesmen at home. Many of them who settled in the

Great Lone Land rose to high positions in the Company’s service. The most

famous of this band of empire-builders was Dr. John Rae, the discoverer

of the fate of the ill-starred Franklin Expedition, and a noted Arctic

explorer, whose monument may be seen in the nave of St. Magnus Cathedral.

The Company then ruled over the greater portion of what is now the

Dominion of Canada. The names of Fort York, Moose Factory, and Red River

were as familiar to the Orkney boys of those days as Edinburgh, Glasgow,

and Aberdeen are to us to-day. But Canada changed even more than Orkney

during the latter part of the nineteenth century, and the great Hudson’s

Bay Company have now handed over their vast territories to the rule of

the Dominion. The fur trade still exists in the North-West, and there are

Orkneymen still in the employment of the Company; but the days have gone

by when this was one of the chief industries of the wander-loving sons of

our islands.

After the “Nor’-Wast,” as the Hudson Bay service was called, the

“Straits” had the next claim on our youth. The Davis Strait whale-fishing

fleet made an annual visit to our islands to complete their crews. This

was in the spring or “vore,” when the crops were in the ground, and many

men, both young and middle-aged, looked to the annual whaling trip to

the north as a means of gain, just as their Norse ancestors did to the

annual “vore-viking” raid on the richer shores of the South. This also

has passed away; the harpoon and whale-lance are rarely seen in the

islands; whales and whaling fleet alike have almost become extinct. But

while agriculture was still in its infancy in Orkney, the “Straits” gave

much-needed employment and modest gains to many of our hardy forefathers.

The general tendency of life in Orkney has been away from dependence

upon the sea for a living, and towards agriculture and the trade and

commerce which it brings with it. In its methods of farming and in its

general prosperity the county now compares well with any other part of

the kingdom. But most of this progress has been made during the last half

century or so.

It was in 1833 that the Aberdeen, Leith, and Clyde Shipping Company, now

the North of Scotland and Orkney and Shetland Navigation Company, first

decided to send one of their steamers—the _Velocity_—to call at Kirkwall.

The call was made once a fortnight, and only during the months of June,

July, and August. The mails were then carried across the Pentland Firth

in a small boat. The growth in traffic since that time is indicated by

the fact that the trade and commerce of the islands now requires the

weekly call of two steamers at Kirkwall and three at Stromness, with a

daily mail steamer to both towns, in addition to numerous occasional

trips of other steamers and sailing vessels, especially during the

fishing season, while four smaller steamers maintain communication

between the various islands.

The Orkney farmer still has a somewhat niggardly soil and a stormy

climate to contend with. His acres are few, and his boys will often turn

to richer lands to seek their fortune. But life in these islands to-day

is easy and comfortable compared with what it was during any of the ten

centuries whose history we have passed in brief review.

The boys and girls who aim at seeking wealth and fame in other lands,

though by other means than those of their Viking ancestors, may now set

forth on their voyage as well equipped by education and otherwise as the

youth of any country in the world. Those who remain at home will still

find a worthy task in carrying on the improvement of the homeland, as

their fathers have done; for whatever stage of progress we may attain, it

is never merely an end but also a beginning.

[Illustration: _Old-fashioned Fireplace_]