The Story of Norway

by Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen

In accordance with this agreement Haakon now moved southward and took up his residence in Oslo. This city, which had recently been burned down, he rebuilt with great care, and came thereby into frequent contact with the ancient enemy of his race, Bishop Nicholas. This venerable scoundrel succeeded actually in gaining his confidence for a time, and obtained during this brief friendship substantial advantages for himself and his see. Haakon always took pleasure in showing his zeal for religion by liberality toward the Church, and the wily bishop was the man to take advantage of such a disposition. He persuaded him on the death of Archbishop Guttorm (1223) to give the weight of his recommendation to his enemy, Peter of Husastad, who, in accordance with the advice of Nicholas, feigned friendship, until he had got the mitre securely on his head.

It was not in accordance with the earl's plans to let the king sit quietly in Viken, increasing his popularity and power. He was therefore scarcely grieved, when he heard of Sigurd Ribbung's flight; nay, it is even probable, that he gave the rebel chief the opportunity to escape, if he did not actually persuade him to renew the rebellion. The Ribbungs, who were not loath to resume their former activity, gathered again in large numbers about their leader, and began plundering and killing the king's adherents as of old. Whenever they were pursued, they made their escape across the frontier into the Swedish province, Vermeland, only to return as soon as their pursuers had turned their backs on them. King Haakon wrote repeatedly to the Swedish king, or rather to his guardians, as he was himself a child, complaining of the protection which Sweden afforded his enemies. Prominent among the counsellors of King Erik was then Eskil Lawman, who had married Christina, the widow of Haakon Galen. This unscrupulous woman, who had hated Haakon from his childhood, now exerted her influence against him at the Swedish court; the consequence was that the counsellors disregarded his remonstrance, and continued to give the Ribbungs an asylum. Their audacity naturally grew, in proportion as they became conscious of this protection; and Haakon was at last compelled to invade Vermeland with an army of 2,400 men, in the middle of winter (1225). He burned many farms, and ravaged several parishes, but had no chance to fight any decisive battle, either with the Ribbungs or the Swedes. The latter had fled to the woods, and the former had availed themselves of the king's visit to Sweden to make a foray into Vestfold, and attack Tunsberg. The former Bagler chief, Arnbjörn Jonsson, who was close on their heels with his troops, was detained in Oslo by Bishop Nicholas, who by his double dealing succeeded in insuring the escape of the rebels.

In April, 1225, the king, in the midst of his protracted campaign against the Ribbungs, celebrated his wedding in Bergen with his betrothed, Earl Skule's daughter. The bride was then about seventeen years old, the groom twenty. If it was Skule's intention, when he gave his consent to the marriage, to secure himself an ally at court, he was disappointed. For Margaret, from the moment she became queen, made common cause with her husband, and in no wise favored her father's schemes. She was a gentle and affectionate wife and a good mother.

The Ribbungs in the meanwhile continued their guerilla warfare, having taken possession of the Helgeö, an island in Lake Mjösen, whence they made forays into the fertile parishes that border on the lake, and practically controlled the Oplands. Earl Skule, who was again sent out to quell the rebellion, dawdled as usual, nursing his secret treason and being at heart more anxious to injure the king than his enemies. In order to destroy the Ribbungs, it was necessary to reach the island, and ostensibly for this purpose he began to build ships on the shores of the lake. He built them, however, deliberately in such a fashion that they leaked, and could scarcely be kept afloat. The Ribbungs, instead of being frightened by his preparations, grew daily bolder, and sent messengers to the king in Oslo, proposing to give him battle. Haakon accepted the offer, and advanced with his army to the appointed place of meeting (Eidsvold), while the earl, instead of hastening to meet him, took the road across the mountains to Nidaros, after having burned his worthless ships. Here was the most incontrovertible proof of treason; and there are also indications that in a correspondence between Bishop Nicholas and the Ribbungs which had fallen into the king's hands, the earl was seriously compromised. Nevertheless, Haakon chose to feign blindness rather than call the traitor to account. Possibly he did not feel himself strong enough to fight Skule and the Ribbungs at the same time, preferring to get rid of one enemy before engaging the other.

After having waited in vain for the Ribbungs at Eidsvold, Haakon returned with his army to Oslo, where he learned that Bishop Nicholas was lying upon his death-bed. The old prelate, with whom falsity and double-dealing had become a second nature, seemed yet to feel some anxiety as to his fate in the hereafter. He therefore summoned the king to his bedside, made him a full confession (not, however, until the king had shown him the evidence of his treason), and implored his forgiveness, which was readily granted. The bishop died in November, 1225, seventy-five years old, having spent his long life in fomenting rebellion, and in ravaging and destroying his native land. His great talents proved a curse both to himself and his people. Not long after his demise, Sigurd Ribbung died (1226), and Haakon Galen's son, Squire Knut, was induced by his guileful mother to take his place. He brought with him a large band of Swedes, thereby giving his warfare the appearance of a foreign invasion, and arousing the hostility of the peasantry of the Oplands, who had formerly been friendly to the Ribbungs. In a fight at Aker he was defeated by a united army of Birchlegs and peasants, and during the following months he suffered repeated disasters, and was deserted by many of his best men. After a dastardly attempt to capture the king by inviting him to a conference, under promise of safety,—an attempt which failed by the merest chance,—Squire Knut dismissed his band (1227), submitted to Haakon, who not only forgave him, but for his father's sake gave him fiefs, and treated him with distinction. The young man, as soon as he was removed from his mother's influence, gave up all thought of rebellion, married, some years later, a younger daughter of Earl Skule, and became one of the king's most devoted friends.

ON THE SOGNE FJORD.

As the Ribbungs were now out of the way and could no longer be made to serve his purposes, the earl hatched a new plot which, on account of its ingenuity, ran less risk of premature detection. He professed a desire to take the cross, and began warlike preparations on a grand scale. He obtained from the Pope permission to exact one twentieth of all the ecclesiastical revenues of the province of Nidaros in aid of his enterprise, and satisfied his conscience by endowing the Church, in return, with his great family estate, Rein, which was converted into a nunnery. Extreme caution was characteristic of Skule; and he meant, this time, to leave nothing to chance. He began at once to build ships, and to gather warriors about him from all parts of the country. As the Danish king, Valdemar the Victorious, had now regained his liberty, he could also count upon his aid, and a formal agreement was made between them in accordance with which Skule should assist the king in recovering his lost provinces. In return for this service Valdemar promised to put Skule on the throne of Norway. That some such agreement must have existed is obvious from the fact that the earl actually set sail for Denmark (1227), without asking Haakon's permission, but was met on his way by the latter and informed of the disastrous defeat of his ally at Bornhöved. He then concluded to await developments; as he would run too great a risk in visiting Denmark, while Valdemar's enemies had the upper hand. Putting on a bold face, he joined his fleet to that of his son-in-law and returned to Bergen. The king, although he did not deceive himself as to Skule's purposes, kept his counsel and feigned ignorance. Nay, he even carried his generosity so far as to lend the traitor ships and provisions when, the following year, (1228) he set out once more to visit the king of Denmark. Since his defeat at Bornhöved, Valdemar was indeed much less formidable than before his captivity, and the warlike spirit had wellnigh left him. Haakon may therefore have suspected that, surrounded as he was with enemies, both on the south and the west, he would scarcely care to add another on the north. Moreover, Haakon had by this time secured the friendship of the German emperor, Frederick II., who was a bitter enemy of Denmark, and he might, therefore, have a chance to keep Valdemar in check, in case he should lend a favorable ear to the earl's persuasions. Under these circumstances he hardly exposed himself to any risk, nay hoped, perhaps, by facilitating his father-in-law's approach to the Danish king, to convince him of the futility of all his plottings. If that was his intention, he must have been disappointed in the result. For when Skule returned he had added to his power for mischief, by obtaining the northern half of the Danish province of Halland in fief, thereby becoming the vassal of a foreign prince, who, moreover, was the enemy of his own king.

One would have supposed that he was now ready for a decisive blow. But he hesitated again, and seemed half inclined to retrace his steps. There was always something lacking in the completeness of his preparations, and another delay was always necessary. He is, indeed, an interesting figure, this wily and ambitious intriguer, who has the courage to plot treason, nay takes pleasure in perfecting all the details of his plot, but always pauses before taking the irretrievable step. Like Schiller's Wallenstein, he fondles the thought, plays with it, utters it cautiously and hypothetically, but leaves himself always, as he supposes, a path of retreat, until his own acts spin a web about him and bar him the road back to safety. Year by year he compromises himself more irretrievably; his treasonable letters fall into the hands of the king, and when, after twenty-two years of covert treason, he drifts into open rebellion, it is because there is apparently no other alternative left to him.