While in Sweden as in Denmark, in the loveliest season of the year, the
old favourite national songs, with the burden,--"The woods are decked
in leafy green," and "The birds are warbling now their song," were sung
as well in castles as behind the plough, and the court rejoiced with
the minnesingers over "the very green and lovely May," and "the mighty
power of love," couriers were constantly passing between the Swedish
and Danish courts at Stockholm and Helsingborg; and a feeling of joyous
expectation pervaded all Denmark. Drost Aage in conjunction with the
learned and eloquent Master Petrus de Dacia, had succeeded in
overcoming the immediate scruples of the Swedish state council,
respecting the marriage of the Danish King with Princess Ingeborg.
Without in the least betraying with what ardent impetuosity their
chivalrous young king seemed willing to stake life and crown to win his
bride, and without the most distant allusion to the possibility of a
breach of peace being caused by the failure of a negociation, which had
for its object the most peaceable relations, and the most loving ties,
these faithful servants of the king, had, by adducing wise and politic
reasons, first brought the wise Regent Thorkild Knudsen over to their
side, and, despite all the hindrances which the malicious Drost Bruncke
placed in their way, at last carried their point so far as to divest
the idea of the excommunication at Sjoeborg, and the enforcement of the
interdict at Copenhagen, of its paralysing and terrifying influence,
at the Swedish court. From the showing of the learned Master Petrus,
and the king's own letters, and clear explanation of the matter, the
want of dispensation from the papal court, came at last to be regarded
as the omission of an insignificant formality, afterwards to be
remedied through negotiation. The flight and formal banishment of
Archbishop Grand from Denmark, as well as the insurrection caused by
the execution of the interdict in Copenhagen, had rejoiced every brave
and free-minded man, as well in Sweden, as in Denmark, and considerably
diminished the dread entertained by the Swedish court and council of
the consequences of a possible breach with the papal see. A new and
overawing proof had been displayed of the courage of the young Danish
king, and of the unanimity with which his loyal people joined him in
opposing the usurpation of the hierarchy. Daring politicians were even
found who hoped the time might not be far distant when the free
national spirit of the north would render people, and princes,
independent of the interference of the papal see in state matters, and
the rights of citizenship. Many bold and manly speeches were uttered in
the Swedish state-council on this occasion, which did honour to
Thorkild Knudsen and his countrymen, but which were reprobated, by the
opposite party, as open heresy and ungodliness, which would be visited
upon Sweden as well as Denmark with heavy chastisement.
Drost Bruncke, and his adherents, despised no means which might tend to
stop or protract the negotiations; he had many able prelates on his
side, but the majority of voices were against him, and he sought in
vain, by reviving the remembrance of the wrongs and animosities of the
two nations, to rekindle the ancient national hate, which now seemed
forgot, and which it was hoped a mutual alliance between the royal
houses, would entirely eradicate.
The eager opposition party in the Swedish council, which was headed by
Drost Bruncke, and in which many were disposed to think that Prince
Christopher took a secret but important part, was calculated rather to
forward than hinder the final decision of the affair. Sweden's greatest
statesman, Marsk Thorkild Knudsen, was on this occasion called on to
display his mental superiority. He disdained having recourse to his
authority as regent, and to his influence as the guardian of King
Birger, and the darling of the Swedish nation. The opinion which he
declared from full conviction, he wished to see prevail by its own
weight, and by its accordance with the mutual feeling of both nations.
Thorkild Knudsen now stood forth in council with an address which
appealed as well to the hearts as to the sober judgment of his
countrymen.
After a clear and calm representation of the political relations of
Sweden and Denmark, and the original affinity of the Scandinavian
people, besides what they could and might effect by alliance and
friendship for their mutual security, and the development of their
powers. Thorkild also pourtrayed, with enthusiastic and glowing
eloquence, the greatness and devotion of love's triumph over petty
scruples and national prejudices. He gave an equally true and
favourable portraiture of the constant and loveable character of the
young Danish king, as well as of the charms of the noble Princess
Ingeborg, and the mutual attachment that had subsisted between the
betrothed pair from their childhood. He finally contrived, with as much
sagacity as eloquence, to put down the objections of the opposite
party, and bring the negotiation of the Danish ambassadors to the
happiest issue; the greater number of his opponents being at last
animated by a warm feeling of enthusiasm for the royal pair, which was
mingled by the soul-enlarging feeling of the union of two nations in
that of their fairest and noblest representatives.
The espousals were, therefore, according to the ardent wish of King
Eric and with the consent of the princess, fixed for the first of June,
which was already near at hand; and a courier from Drost Aage was
instantly despatched with the glad tidings to Eric. The whole of the
Swedish royal family were to accompany the princess to Helsingborg,
where splendid preparations were making for the marriage, and the
chivalrous King Eric now only awaited the dawning of that happy day to
set out at the head of the chivalry of Denmark, with all the courtly
state suited to the occasion, to meet his beautiful bride and her royal
relatives.
Towards the close of May, Helsingborg castle, together with the town
and its vicinity became daily the resort of all who were most
distinguished in Denmark and Sweden. The fair gothic castle, with its
circular walls, its bastions, and high towers, rose proudly over the
town on the summit of the steep rock or hill above. The castle was
surrounded by deep moats, and was considered to be an impregnable
fortress; but at this time the drawbridge was let down, and the great
iron-cased castle-gate, on the southern side, stood open to admit the
coming guests. The old town, which dated its origin from the days of
King Frode[3], and was so pleasantly and advantageously situated on the
narrowest part of the Sound, owed its present prosperity to its
considerable trade, and great horse and cattle fairs. It was tolerably
extensive, but was, however, by no means, capable of accommodating so
great a concourse of strangers. The great market-place, close to the
council-house, and the handsome church of St. Mary's (the central point
of the town where many streets met), were now daily as much thronged
with people as on the great fair-days. Besides the king's nearest
relatives, and the wedding guests invited by the Marsk, from the lordly
manors and knightly castles of both kingdoms; a great crowd of curious
and sympathising persons of all ranks flocked to Helsingborg, even from
the most distant provinces, to witness the intended festival, and
partake of the public amusements, which, on this occasion, were to
render this celebration of royal nuptials a national festival for both
Denmark and Sweden.
The king had already held his court, for some weeks, at Helsingborg.
Marsk Oluffsen had returned from Jutland, where he had been fortunate
enough to put an end to all disturbances by capturing the daring
partizans, Niels Brock and Johan Papae, with some other friends of
the archbishop's and the outlaws. The insurgents were led to the
prison-tower at Flynderborg, but the stern Marsk Oluffsen was
personally so incensed at these state prisoners, who had long plagued
and defied him, that he thought no punishment was adequate to their
deserts. At the present moment nothing was thought of at court but joy
and festivity. The king's stepfather, Count Gerhard, had arrived from
Nykioeping with his consort, the dowager queen Agnes. Next to the king
himself no one seemed more to rejoice at his marriage than his politic
and dignified mother. In her first unhappy marriage, Agnes, as
Denmark's queen, had held that wedded happiness, among royal
personages, was only the dream of visionaries. After the death of her
unhappy consort she had sacrificed the title of queen, and changed this
dream into truth and reality, in her own lot, under a humbler name.
Amid her own happiness she had often thought, with uneasiness and
regret, on having made a treaty, involving the future destiny of her
children by their betrothal in early childhood, and now saw, with
thankfulness, that a union, projected from motives of state policy, had
grown into the natural tie of kindred hearts.
It appeared that the brave Duke of Langeland had forgotten all former
disputes with the king, at the treaty of Wordingborg, but his brother,
Duke Valdemar of Slesvig, who had also been invited out of courtesy,
had excused himself on plea of illness.
Three days before that fixed for the bridal, Junker Christopher arrived
with a numerous train from Kallundborg. The king received him with his
wonted courtesy on the quay of Helsingborg, whither he had gone to meet
him with his new Marsk, Count Henrik, and his halberdiers; but there
was a painful expression of suppressed anger in the king's generally
joyous and kindly countenance as he gave his hand to his sullen brother
in token of welcome. It was pretty openly said that the junker lately,
by means of secret cabals, had placed obstacles in the way of the
marriage, and it was believed the king had painful conjectures on the
subject, although no proofs of this presumable treachery were
forthcoming. The junker himself had appeared latterly to suffer from a
corroding melancholy, which was often succeeded by bursts of wild
merriment,--since the storming of Kallundborg castle especially, and
the execution of his unhappy commandant, the restless and gloomy
disposition of the prince had assumed this fierce character; even those
few of his courtiers who were really devoted to him, and regarded his
gloomy reserved deportment as an effect of the wrestlings of a great
spirit with its destiny often complained of his caprices; and though
they still adhered to him, it was, however, with a species of fear,
mixed with an undefined hope of one day arriving with him at honours
and fortune.
The mutual greeting of the brothers on Helsingborg quay was strikingly
cold, although the junker seemed desirous by his congratulations
and expressions of courtesy to do away with all appearance of
misunderstanding. To this Count Henrik in particular paid special
attention. In the king's train were seen the German professors of
minstrelsy, who had abandoned their researches at Wordingborg castle to
enliven the festival by their lays. The papers and documents which
Junker Christopher had removed from the sacristy chest at Lund, on the
archbishop's imprisonment, and brought, as it was said, to the state
archives at Wordingborg castle, had been sought for in vain by the
learned friends of the king. These documents might even yet become of
great importance to the king in the suit against the banished
archbishop; but they had disappeared at the time when matters had come
to an open breach with the junker, and the king suspected his brother
of having destroyed them, or even of having returned them to the
archbishop.
The king's train had been also joined by the young Iceland bard, the
priest of St. Olaf, Master Laurentius of Nidaros, who had now exchanged
his layman's red mantle for the more reputable black dress of a canon;
and beside the king walked the little deformed Master Thrand Fistlier,
with a consequential deportment, and displaying on his finger a large
diamond ring, which the king had presented to him in acknowledgement of
his superior learning. On the king's arrival at Helsingborg the
scientific mountebank had been set at liberty. He instantly contrived
to arrest the attention of the king (eager as he was in the pursuit of
knowledge), after he had with dexterity and keen ability repelled every
charge against himself, as well of the Leccar heresy as of witchcraft.
This last accusation, which had drawn upon him the persecution and
peril he underwent at Skaenor, he alluded to with exultation, as a
striking testimony to his own astonishing arts, and a ludicrous proof
of the dulness of the age and the absurdities of popular ignorance. The
king now presented him to his brother as a rare scholar and an
extraordinary artist. The significant look with which Junker
Christopher greeted this far-travelled adventurer seemed to betray an
earlier acquaintanceship, which, however, was acknowledged by neither.
Count Henrik placed but little reliance on Prince Christopher's
congratulations and measured courtesy. He narrowly watched the junker,
as well as the foreign mountebank, about whom Aage had expressed
himself so dubiously. He thought he more and more perceived a secret
understanding between the prince and the mysterious scholar, and
resolved to be at his post. He ventured not, however, to grieve the
king by disclosing it, or increasing his suspicion of his brother,
which evidently pained him, and which he seemed desirous to exert
himself to the utmost to shake off. Neither on this nor the two
following days was there any nearer approach to confidence between the
brothers. Courteous phrases and stiff court etiquette were resorted to,
by way of compensation for the want of cordiality. It was only when
Junker Christopher was at the chase, or seated at the draught-board or
the drinking-table, that the king was seen to converse joyously with
his mother and Count Gerhard, or jest merrily with Count Henrik and his
knights: the German professors of minstrelsy and the learned Icelanders
exerted all their powers to while away the evenings preceding his
marriage-day, when his ardent and impatient spirit was not engrossed by
important affairs of state. But when he seemed at times in the happiest
mood he often grew suddenly silent and thoughtful at the mere sound of
his brother's voice, or on observing his wild uncertain glance from
under his dark and knitted brow.
The evening before the impatiently expected first of June the king sat
in the upper hall of Helsingborg castle, at the chess-table, where he
was usually the victor. On this occasion, however, he had found an
almost invincible opponent in the learned Iceland philosopher, who
appeared able beforehand to calculate the plans of his adversary, and
only to need a single move in order to frustrate them. Notwithstanding
Master Thrand's decided superiority, the king had, however, won every
game; but he seemed to regard this with indifference; he was absent,
and often forgot to make his moves. At the opposite end of the hall he
heard his brother talking of hunting and horses, with Count Gerhard;
his mother was listening to the poems of the German minstrels and
Master Laurentius; while the young knights discoursed with animation of
the next day's festivities and tournament.
"Tell me, Master Thrand," said the king to his learned antagonist, with
a thoughtful glance out of the window at the star-lit heavens, "what is
your opinion of omens, and of the wondrous art of astrology, to which
so many learned men are devoted in our time. Believe you the life and
actions of men and the changeable fortunes of this world can be so
considerable and important in the eyes of the Almighty that higher
powers should care for them, or intermeddle with them?--and think ye
the position and movements of the heavenly bodies stand in any real
relation to our life and destiny?"
"That is almost more than science can be said as yet to have fathomed
with certainty, most gracious king!" answered the artist, with a
subtle, satirical smile on his lips, while his head almost disappeared
between his shoulders; "but if any science is to bring clearness and
demonstration into the speculations of the learned and the mysteries of
astrology, it must be that exalted science of sciences whose poor
worshipper I am. Assuredly, your grace, nothing happens in the world
but what is natural, that is to say, a necessary consequence of
foregoing causes; but it is precisely the great problem of the
mysterious and hidden causes of these things and events which it is the
province of human wisdom to solve. '_Beatas qui potuit rerum cognoscere
causas_' hath been said already by the wise heathen. Theologians and
poets indeed picture to themselves a nearer and safer road by which to
reach the same goal as ourselves, or even a far higher one," he
continued, with a scornful self-satisfied smile; "but they deceive
themselves in their simplicity and enthusiasm by looking for a kind of
supernatural influence of the Divine wisdom which in fact is the life
and soul of nature, yet which but partially discloses itself to us in
its workings, according as these by degrees unfold themselves to us in
their essences through the sacred optic tubes of science and research."
"Now you mix up too many things together for me, Master Thrand!" said
the king, shaking his head. "You seem to me almost to confound the
great living God and Lord with his creation, or what you call nature.
With all my respect for human wisdom--for all wise and useful learning
which man may attain by the examination of earthly things, I think,
nevertheless, that the spirit of truth and beauty, commonly called
'genius' by our scholars and the poets of olden times, as also 'the
prophetic vision,' soar far above the ken of human intellect; and for
what is of paramount importance for us to see, we have most assuredly
the holiest and noblest optic tube in God's own revealed word." The
king paused a moment and gazed on the strange deportment of the little
philosopher, with a sharp and scrutinising look, "You smile as if you
pitied me for this my sincere opinion. I am a layman, but all the pious
and learned men I have known agreed with me; nor can I perceive that
our theologians err in considering the spirit of God as a surer guide
to true knowledge of divine things than all human subtlety and wisdom."
"Far be it from me to contradict my most gracious Lord, or the pious
scholars of our time on this point," resumed Master Thrand, looking
around him with a repressed smile, and a cunning, cautious glance, "but
of this I would rather talk with your grace in your private chamber! I
doubt not that with your clear and unprejudiced views, (soaring as your
mind does above the ignorance of our age) you will understand me
rightly. I dare almost unconditionally subscribe to all that the holy
church, it is said, considers needful for him who would be called a
true believer, provided I may be allowed to interpret the words of
ancient writings and symbols according to their true and reasonable
signification;--meanwhile there is, however, much in our science which
must as yet be a mystery to the great majority, and even to the
scholars of our time, who are too but much inclined to discern heresy
and ungodliness in every free thought. Noble King!" he added, in a low,
mysterious tone, "I read no longer with the learned in the small
written volumes (out of which, as you yourself have experienced, curses
are as often quoted as blessings) but I read much more in the great
book that was not writ by the hand of man, and whose words sound forth
eternal wisdom in the din of the storm and the roaring of the ocean, in
the course of the stars above the thunder clouds, and in voices of
flame from the depths of the abyss. Mark well, my deep-thinking
king!--you the young Solomon of our north!--the holy Spirit of God, of
which so many and so foolish words are spoken, is precisely that
mainspring of forces we seek for in the great workshop of nature's
sanctuary, in the depths of our own souls, and in the philosopher's
stone, which we call the quintessence of creation. To him who but
catches a glimpse of it, (of which, however, we can but boast in
certain great moments) to him, the deepest and highest things are
revealed; the future as the past is clear before him; he is the master
and lord of nature, and of eternal power--for him life hath only limits
in his will."
The king looked in grave silence on the singular little man's visage,
every muscle of which quivered with emotion, while sparks seemed to
flash as it were from his small deep-set eyes. "Follow me afterwards to
my private chamber," said the king rising. Meanwhile Count Henrik had
approached and heard part of this conversation; he thought he observed
a kind of triumphant smile in Master Thrand's self-satisfied
countenance; but he sought in vain for an opportunity of cautioning the
king, who quitted Thrand in a very thoughtful mood, and went to join
his mother and the three stranger bards.
Master Laurentius had related to the Countess Agnes much of the
grandeur of Norway and Iceland, and of the remarkable bards and Saga
writers of his fatherland; he made special mention of the great
Snorro[4] and his learned nephews, who had given such a preponderance
to Saga literature, as almost to throw poetry entirely into the shade.
In order, however, to prove to Countess Agnes and the German minstrels
that poetic inspiration in his fatherland had not altogether died away,
as they believed, with heathenism and the gifted Skalds of the Edda, he
had recited several poems and heroic lays, to which they could not
refuse their approbation.
When the king joined them, Laurentius was reciting some strophes of
Einar Skulesen's famous epic poem, "Geisli," or "The Ray," in honor of
St. Olaf. The king stopped and listened. In this poem St. Olaf was
called, "A ray of light from God's kingdom, a beam or glimmer of the
glorious Son of Grace;" and Christ was described as the light of the
world, and the Lord of Heaven, who, as "a ray from a bright star (the
Virgin Mary) manifested himself on earth for our ineffable good." The
king nodded with satisfaction; he seemed to find a consoling
counterpoise in the pious lay to what had disturbed and alarmed him in
the discourse of the wise Master Thrand. "Go on!" he said
encouragingly, to Master Laurentius. The young priest of St. Olaf, who
had been inspired with lively enthusiasm by the praises in honor of his
saint, repeated in his musical and declamatory tones some more strophes
of the beginning of the poem, touching the glory of the Saviour and of
his kingdom. From this he passed on to the praise of St. Olaf, "as the
saint confirmed by miracles;" but when he came to that passage in the
poem where the bard exclaims, that "Deceit and treachery caused King
Olaf's fall at Stiklestad[5]--" the king suddenly interrupted the
enthusiastic Master Laurentius. "Thanks!" he said, "the poem is
beautiful and edifying; but deceit and treachery I will hear nought of
the day before my bridal. Norway's sovereign and Duke Haco have
defended a bad cause against me," he continued, "but I highly esteem
the brave Northmen, notwithstanding; they deserved a king and guardian
saint like St. Olaf; he hath well merited to be called a ray from
heaven in the north; the circumstances of his downfal I will not now
think on. Sing rather of constancy and of beauty, and of that which is
the ornament and honour of our age."
"Permit me a poor attempt to dilate upon that theme, my most gracious
lord and patron!" began Master Rumelant, hastily, and instantly
commenced a German lay in honour of the beauty and constancy of the
northern fair, in which he forgot not the praises of the still youthful
and beautiful Countess Agnes, and still less of the king's absent
bride; but the lay also included a secret defence of Marsk Stig's
daughters, whose beauty and unhappy fate had made a deep impression on
both the minstrels. Master Poppe chimed in also, and did not lose this
opportunity of putting in his good word for the captive maidens. They
could especially not sufficiently praise the piety and amiability of
the meek Margaretha in her captivity.
The king's countenance grew dark. He had referred the cause of the
captives to the law and justice of the land; he would hear nothing of
it himself: he knew they had accused themselves before their judges of
being privy to the treasonable sojourn of Kagge at Wordingborg. He was
silent; but it was evident that the thought of Marsk Stig and of his
father's death was again fearfully present to Eric's mind, and disposed
him but little to favour the race of the regicide or any friend of the
outlaws;--the minstrels looked doubtfully at each other, and no one
dared to say a word more on this subject.