things in Norway. There had always been a great number of petty kings
or jarls, who were sometimes at peace with each other, but oftener
at war, and at last this Harold was strong enough to conquer all the
rest and unite all the kingdoms under his own rule. It was by no means
an easy piece of business, for twelve years went by before it was
finished, and not only Norway itself, but the Orkneys, and Shetlands,
and Hebrides, and Man were conquered too, and the lawless vikings were
obliged to keep good order. The story was that the king had loved
a fair maiden of the North, called Gyda, but when he asked her to
marry him she had answered that she would not marry a jarl; let him
make himself a king like Gorm of Denmark! At this proud answer Harold
loved her more than ever, and vowed that he would never cut his hair
[Pg031] until he had conquered all the jarls and could claim Gyda's
hand.
[Illustration: A NORWEGIAN FIORD.]
The flourishing shock of his yellow hair became renowned; we can
almost see it ourselves waving prosperously through his long series of
battles. When he was king at last he chose Jarl Rögnwald of [Pg032]
Möre to cut the shining locks because he was the most valiant and
best-beloved of all his tributaries.
Jarl Rögnwald had a family of sons who were noted men in their day.
One was called Turf-Einar, because he went to the Orkney islands and
discovered great deposits of peat of which he taught the forestless
people to make use, so that they and their descendants were grateful
and made him their chief hero. Another son was named Rolf, and he
was lord of three small islands far up toward the North. He followed
the respected profession of sea-robber, but though against foreign
countries it was the one profession for a jarl to follow, King Harold
was very stringent in his laws that no viking should attack any of his
own neighbors or do any mischief along the coasts of Norway. These
laws Rolf was not careful about keeping.
There was still another brother, who resented Haarfager's tyrannies
so much that he gathered a fine heroic company of vikings and more
peaceable citizens and went to Iceland and settled there. This
company came in time to be renowned as the beginners of one of the
most remarkable republics the world has ever known, with a unique
government by its aristocracy, and a natural development of literature
unsurpassed in any day. There, where there were no foreign customs to
influence or pervert, the Norse nature and genius had their perfect
flowering.
Rolf is said to have been so tall that he used to march afoot whenever
he happened to be ashore, rather than ride the little Norwegian
horses. He was nicknamed Gang-Roll (or Rolf), which means [Pg033]
Rolf the Walker, or Ganger. There are two legends which give the
reason why he came away from Norway—one that he killed his brother
in an unfortunate quarrel, and fled away to England, whither he was
directed by a vision or dream; that the English helped him to fit out
his ships and to sail away again toward France.
The other story, which seems more likely, makes it appear that the
king was very angry because Rolf plundered a Norwegian village when
he was coming home short of food from a long cruise in the Baltic
Sea. The peasants complained to Harold Haarfager, who happened to be
near, and he called the great Council of Justice and banished his old
favorite for life.
Whether these stories are true or not, at any rate Rolf came southward
an outlaw, and presently we hear of him in the Hebrides off the coast
of Scotland, where a company of Norwegians had settled after King
Harold's conquests. These men were mostly of high birth and great
ability, and welcomed the new-comer who had so lately been their
enemy. We are not surprised when we find that they banded together as
pirates and fitted out a famous expedition. Perhaps they did not find
living in the Hebrides very luxurious, and thought it necessary to
collect some merchandise and money, or some slaves to serve them, so
they fell back upon their familiar customs.
Rolf's vessels and theirs made a formidable fleet, but although they
agreed that there should not be any one chosen as captain, or admiral,
as we should [Pg034] say nowadays, we do not hear much of any of the
confederates except Rolf the Ganger, so we may be sure he was most
powerful and took command whether anybody was willing or not.
They came round the coast of Scotland, and made first for Holland,
but as all that part of the country had too often been devastated
and had become very poor, the ships were soon put to sea again. And
next we find them going up the River Seine in France, which was a
broader river then than it is now, and the highway toward Paris and
other cities, which always seemed to offer great temptations to the
vikings. Charles the Simple was king of France by right, but the only
likeness to his ancestor Charlemagne was in his name, and to that his
subjects had added the Simple, or the Fool, by which we can tell that
he was not a very independent or magnificent sort of monarch. The
limits of the kingdom of France, at that time, had just been placed
between the Loire and the Meuse, after many years of fighting between
the territories, and Charles was still contesting his right to the
crown. The wide empire of Charlemagne had not been divided at once
into distinct smaller kingdoms, but the heirs had each taken what
they could hold and fought for much else beside. Each pretended to be
the lawful king and was ready to hold all he could win. So there was
naturally little good-feeling between them, and not one could feel
sure that his neighbor would even help him to fight against a common
enemy. It was "Every one for himself, and devil take the hindmost!"
to quote the old proverb, which seldom has so literal an [Pg035]
application. King Charles the Simple, besides defending himself from
his outside enemies, was also much troubled by a pretender to the
crown, and was no doubt at his wit's end to know how to manage the
province of Neustria, lately so vexed by the foreign element within
its borders. It might be easy work for the troop of Northmen that had
followed Rolf. Besides the fact that they need not fear any alliance
against them, and had only Charles the Simple for their enemy, one of
his own enemies was quite likely to form a league with them against
him.
The fleet from the Hebrides had come to anchor on its way up the Seine
at a town called Jumièges, five leagues from Rouen. There was no army
near by to offer any hindrance, and the work of pillaging the country
was fairly begun without hindrance when the news of the incursion was
told in Rouen. There the people were in despair, for it was useless
to think of defending their broken walls; the city was already half
ruined from such invasions. At any hour they might find themselves
at the mercy of these new pirates. But in such dreadful dismay the
archbishop, a man of great courage and good sense, whom we must honor
heartily, took upon himself the perilous duty of going to the camp
and trying to save the city by making a treaty. He had heard stories
enough, we may be sure, of the cruel tortures of Christian priests by
these Northern pagans, who still believed in the gods Thor and Odin
and in Valhalla, and that the most fortunate thing, for a man's life
in the next world, was that he should die in battle in this world.
[Pg036]
There was already a great difference in the hopes and plans of the
Northmen: they listened to the archbishop instead of killing him at
once, and Rolf and his companions treated him and his interpreter
with some sort of courtesy. Perhaps the bravery of the good man won
their hearts by its kinship to their daring; perhaps they were already
planning to seize upon a part of France and to forsake the Hebrides
altogether, and Rolf had a secret design of founding a kingdom for
himself that should stand steadfast against enemies. When the good
priest went back to Rouen, I think the people must have been surprised
that he had kept his head upon his shoulders, and still more filled
with wonder because he was able to tell them that he had made a truce,
that he had guaranteed the assailants admission to the city, but that
they had promised not to do any harm whatever. Who knows if there were
not many voices that cried out that it was only delivering them to the
cruel foe, with their wives and children and all that they had in the
world. When the ships came up the river and were anchored before one
of the city gates near the Church of St. Morin, and the tall chieftain
and his comrades began to come ashore, what beating hearts, what
careful peeping out of windows there must have been in Rouen that day!
But the chiefs had given their word of honor, and they kept it well;
they walked all about the city, and examined all the ramparts, the
wharves, and the supply of water, and gave every thing an unexpectedly
kind approval. More than this, they said that Rouen [Pg037] should be
their head-quarters and their citadel. This was not very welcome news,
but a thousand times better than being sacked and ravaged and burnt,
and when the ships had gone by up the river, I dare say that more than
one voice spoke up for Rolf the Ganger, and gratefully said that he
might not prove the worst of masters after all. Some of the citizens
even joined the ranks of the sea-king's followers when they went on in
quest of new adventure up the Seine.
Just where the river Eure joins the Seine, on the point between the
two streams, the Norwegians built a great camp, and fortified it,
and there they waited for the French army. For once King Charles was
master of his whole kingdom, and he had made up his mind to resist
this determined invasion. Pirates were bad enough, but pirates who
were evidently bent upon greater mischief than usual could not be sent
away too soon. It was not long before the French troops, under the
command of a general called Regnauld, who bore the title of Duke of
France, made their appearance opposite the encampment, on the right
bank of the Eure.
The French counts had rallied bravely; they made a religious duty of
it, for were not these Norwegians pagans? and pagans deserved to be
killed, even if they had not come to steal from a Christian country.
There was one count who had been a pagan himself years before, but he
had become converted, and was as famous a Christian as he had been
sea-king. He had declared that he was tired of leading a life of wild
adventure, and had made peace with France [Pg038] twenty years before
this time; and the kingdom had given him the county of Chartres—so he
must have been a powerful enemy. Naturally he was thought to be the
best man to confer with his countrymen. There was a council of war
in the French camp, and this Hasting (of whom you will hear again by
and by) advised that they should confer with Rolf before they risked
a battle with him. Perhaps the old sea-king judged his tall successor
by his own experience, and thought he might like to be presented with
a county too, as the price of being quiet and letting the frightened
Seine cities alone. Some of the other lords of the army were very
suspicious and angry about this proposal, but Hasting had his way, and
went out with two attendants who could speak Danish.
The three envoys made their short journey to the river-side as quickly
as possible, and presently they stood on the bank of the Eure. Across
the river were the new fortifications, and some of the sea-kings' men
were busy with their armor on the other shore.
"Gallant soldiers!" cries the Count of Chartres; "what is your
chieftain's name?"
"We have no lord over us," they shouted back again; "we are all equal."
"For what end have you come to France?"
"To drive out the people who are here, or make them our subjects, and
to make ourselves a new country," says the Northman. "Who are you?—How
is it that you speak our own tongue?"
"You know the story of Hasting," answers the [Pg039] count, not
without pride—"Hasting, the great pirate, who scoured the seas with
his crowd of ships, and did so much evil in this kingdom?"
"Aye, we have heard that, but Hasting has made a bad end to so good
a beginning"; to which the count had nothing to say; he was Lord of
Chartres now, and liked that very well.
"Will you submit to King Charles?" he shouts again, and more men
are gathering on the bank to listen. "Will you give your faith and
service, and take from him gifts and honor?"
"No, no!" they answer; "we will not submit to King Charles—go back,
and tell him so, you messenger, and say that we claim the rule and
dominion of what we win by our own strength and our swords."
But the Frenchmen called Hasting a traitor when he brought this
answer back to camp, and told his associates not to try to force the
pagan entrenchments. A traitor, indeed! That was too much for the old
viking's patience. For all that, the accusation may have held a grain
of truth. Nobody knows the whole of his story, but he may have felt
the old fire and spirit of his youth when he saw the great encampment
and heard the familiar tones of his countrymen. It may be wrong to
suspect that he went to join them; but, at all events, Count Chartres
left the French camp indignantly, and nobody knows where he went,
either then or afterward, for he forsook his adopted country and left
it to its fate. They found out that he had given good advice to those
proud comrades of his, for when they attacked the enemy between the
rivers they were cut to [Pg040] pieces; even the duke of France,
their bold leader, was killed by a poor fisherman of Rouen who had
followed the Northern army.
Now there was nothing to hinder Rolf, who begins to be formally
acknowledged as the leader, from going up the Seine as fast or as slow
as he pleased, and after a while the army laid siege to Paris, but
this was unsuccessful. One of the chiefs was taken prisoner, and to
release him they promised a year's truce to King Charles, and after
a while we find them back at Rouen again. They had been ravaging the
country to the north of Paris, very likely in King Charles's company,
for there had been a new division of the kingdom, and the northern
provinces no longer called him their sovereign. Poor Charles the
Simple! he seems to have had a very hard time of it with his unruly
subjects, and his fellow-knights and princes too, who took advantage
of him whenever they could find a chance.
By this time we know enough of Rolf and his friends not to expect
them to remain quiet very long at Rouen. Away they went to Bayeux,
a rich city, and assaulted that and killed Berenger, the Count of
Bayeux, and gained a great heap of booty. We learn a great deal of the
manners and fashions of that early day when we find out that Berenger
had a beautiful daughter, and when the treasure was divided she was
considered as part of it and fell to Rolf's lot. He immediately
married her with apparent satisfaction and a full performance of
Scandinavian rites and ceremonies.
After this the Northmen went on to Evreux and [Pg041] to some other
cities, and their dominion was added to, day by day. They began to
feel a certain sort of respect and care for the poor provinces now
that they belonged to themselves. And they ceased to be cruel to the
unresisting people, and only taxed them with a certain yearly tribute.
Besides this, they chose Rolf for their king, but this northern title
was changed before long for the French one of duke. Rolf must have
been very popular with his followers. We cannot help a certain liking
for him ourselves or being pleased when we know that his new subjects
liked him heartily. They had cursed him very often, to be sure, and
feared his power when he was only a pirate, but they were glad enough
when they gained so fearless and strong a man for their protector.
Whatever he did seemed to be with a far-sightedness and better object
than they had been used to in their rulers. He was a man of great
gifts and uncommon power, and he laid his plans deeper and was not
without a marked knowledge of the rude politics of that time—a good
governor, which was beginning to be needed more in France than a good
fighter even.
Fighting was still the way of gaining one's ends, and so there was
still war, but it was better sustained and more orderly. These
Northerners, masters now of a good piece of territory, linked
themselves with some of the smaller scattered settlements of Danes at
the mouth of the river Loire, and went inland on a great expedition.
They could not conquer Paris this time either, nor Dijon nor Chartres.
The great walls of these cities and several others were not to
[Pg042] be beaten down, but there is a long list of weaker towns that
fell into their hands, and at last the French people could bear the
sieges no longer, and not only the peasants but the nobles and priests
clamored for deliverance. King Charles may have been justly called the
Simple, but he showed very good sense now. "We shall starve to death,"
the people were saying. "Nobody dares to work in the field or the
vineyard; there is not an acre of corn from Blois to Senlis. Churches
are burnt and people are murdered; the Northmen do as they please.
See, it is all the fault of a weak king!"
King Charles roused himself to do a sensible thing; he may have
planned it as a stroke of policy, and meant to avail himself of the
Northmen's strength to keep himself on his throne. He consulted his
barons and bishops, and they agreed with him that he must form a
league with their enemies, and so make sure of peace. As we read the
story of those days, we are hardly sure that Rolf was the subject
after this rather than the king. He did homage to King Charles, and
he received the sovereignty over most of what was to be called the
dukedom of Normandy. The league was little more than an obligation of
mutual defence, and King Charles was lucky to call Rolf his friend
and ally. The vigorous Norwegian was likely to keep his word better
than the French dukes and barons, who broke such promises with perfect
ease. Rolf's duty and his interest led him nearly in the same path,
but he was evidently disposed to do what was right according to his
way of seeing right and wrong. [Pg043]
All this time he had been living with his wife Popa, the daughter
of Count Berenger, who was slain at Bayeux. They had two
children—William, and a daughter, Adela. According to the views of
King Charles and the Christian church of that time, the marriage
performed with Scandinavian rites was no marriage at all, though Rolf
loved his wife devotedly and was training his son with great care, so
that he might by and by take his place, and be no inferior, either, of
the young French princes who were his contemporaries. As one historian
says, the best had the best then, and this young William was being
made a scholar as fast as possible.
For all this, when the king's messenger came to Rolf and made him an
offer of Gisla, the king's daughter, for a wife, with the seigneury of
all the lands between the river Epte and the border of Brittany, if he
would only become a Christian and live in peace with the kingdom, Rolf
listened with pleasure. He did not repeat now the words that Hasting
heard on the bank of the Eure, "We will obey no one!" while with
regard to the marriage he evidently felt free to contract a new one.
It was all a great step upward, and Rolf's clear eyes saw that. If
he were not a Christian he could not be the equal of the lords of
France. He was not a mere adventurer any longer, the leader of a
band of pirates; other ambitions had come to him since he had been
governor of his territory. The pagan fanaticism and superstition of
his companions were more than half extinguished already; the old myths
of the Northern gods had not flourished in [Pg044] this new soil. At
last, after much discussion and bargaining about the land that should
be given, Rolf gave his promise once for all, and now we may begin to
call him fairly the Duke of Normandy and his people the Normans; the
old days of the Northmen in France had come to an end. For a good many
years the neighboring provinces called the new dukedom "the pirate's
land" and "the Northman's land," but the great Norman race was in
actual existence now, and from this beginning under Rolf, the tall
Norwegian sea-king, has come one of the greatest forces and powers of
the civilized world.
I must give you some account of the ceremonies at this establishment
of the new duke, for it was a grand occasion, and the king's train
of noblemen and gentlemen, and all the Norman officers and statesmen
went out to do honor to that day. The place was in a village called
St. Claire, on the river Epte, and the French pitched their tents
on one bank of the river and the Normans on the other. Then, at the
hour appointed, Rolf came over to meet the king, and did what would
have astonished his father Rögnwald and his viking ancestors very
much. He put his hand between the king's hands and said: "From this
time forward I am your vassal and man, and I give my oath that I will
faithfully protect your life, your limbs, and your royal honor."
After this the king and his nobles formally gave Rolf the title of
duke or count, and swore that they would protect him and his honor
too, and all the lands named in the treaty. But there is an old story
that, when Rolf was directed to kneel before [Pg045] King Charles and
kiss his foot in token of submission, he was a rebellious subject at
once. Perhaps he thought that some of his French rivals had revived
this old Frankish custom on purpose to humble his pride, but he said
nothing, only beckoned quietly to one of his followers to come and
take his place. Out steps the man. I do not doubt that his eyes were
dancing, and that his yellow beard hid a laughing mouth; he did not
bend his knee at all, but caught the king's foot, and lifted it so
high that the poor monarch fell over backward, and all the pirates
gave a shout of laughter. They did not think much of Charles the
Simple, those followers of Rolf the Ganger.
Afterward the marriage took place at Rouen, and the high barons of
France went there with the bride, though it was not a very happy day
for Gisla, whom Rolf never lived with or loved. He was a great many
years older than she, and when she died he took Popa, the first wife
back again—if, indeed, he had not considered her the true wife all the
time. Then on that wedding-day he became a Christian too, though there
must have been more change of words and manner than of Rolf's own
thoughts. He received the archbishop's lessons with great amiability,
and gave part of his lands to the church before he divided the rest
among his new-made nobles. They put a long white gown or habit on
him, such as newly baptized persons wore, and he must have been an
amusing sight to see, all those seven days that he kept it on, tall
old seafarer that he was, but he preserved a famous dignity, and gave
estates to [Pg046] seven churches in succession on each day of that
solemn week. Then he put on his every-day clothes again, and gave his
whole time to his political affairs and the dividing out of Normandy
among the Norwegian chieftains who had come with him on that lucky
last voyage.
It is said that Rolf himself was the founder of the system of
landholding according to the custom of feudal times, and of a regular
system of property rights, and customs of hiring and dividing the
landed property, but there are no state papers or charters belonging
to that early time, as there are in England, so nobody can be very
sure. At any rate, he is said to have been the best ruler possible,
and his province was a model for others, though it was the most modern
in Gaul. He caused the dilapidated towns and cities to be rebuilt, and
the churches were put into good repair and order. There are parts of
some of the Rouen churches standing yet, that Rolf rebuilt.