The Story of Norway

by Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen

OLD NORSE LOOM. FROM FANE NEAR BERGEN.

That this doctrine, though it was slow to affect the lives of the new converts, nevertheless from generation to generation wrought a change in the moral consciousness of the Norsemen, can scarcely be questioned. The old Asa faith was inconsistent with any kind of civilization, because it meant, in the end, universal destruction. As long as killing was per se meritorious and secured the favor of the gods and honor among men, no trade but that of arms could flourish, and every peaceful industry became impossible. In Iceland, where the spirit of the old Germanic paganism survived, even long after the introduction of Christianity, internecine feuds of the most atrocious character prevailed for centuries, resulting in a gradual decadence, followed by stagnation and decay. The result in Norway, as the subsequent narrative will show, was scarcely better. A universal exhaustion followed the long carnival of bloodshed, and a heavy lethargy, lasting for four hundred years, settled upon the people.

It would be vain to pretend that Olaf Tryggvesson, when he undertook the task of destroying the Asa faith, had any conception of the superior sociological value of the new faith over the old. Not even the conception of one God, instead of many, seems to have been emphasized in the preaching of those days. On the contrary, the Christian religion was adapted, as far as possible, to the pre-existing polytheistic notions, and a new hierarchy, consisting of the Trinity, the Virgin Mary, and a host of saints, was exalted as objects of worship instead of the old gods. If the character of the religious teaching is to be inferred from the character of the teachers, it is safe to conclude that the early Germanic Christianity was ethically not far removed from the religion which it came to supplant. Thus we hear much in the Saga of Olaf Tryggvesson of a priest named Thangbrand, whose violence, pugnacity, and readiness to kill must have made him an odd exponent of the gospel of peace. Thangbrand was a Saxon, and had been sent north with many other missionaries to assist in converting the Danes. Bishop Siric, of Canterbury, presented him during a visit with a curiously wrought shield, upon which was the image of the crucified Christ. Shortly after this occurrence, Thangbrand made the acquaintance of Olaf Tryggvesson, who admired the shield greatly and desired to buy it. The priest received a munificent compensation, and finding himself suddenly rich, went and bought a beautiful Irish girl, whose charms had beguiled him. A German warrior who saw the girl claimed her, and when his demand was scornfully refused challenged the priest. A duel was fought and the German was killed. Some ill feeling was aroused against Thangbrand by this incident, and he fled to his friend, Olaf Tryggvesson, and became his court chaplain. As such he was under the authority of Bishop Sigurd, an Anglo-Saxon, probably of Norse descent, whom Olaf had brought with him from England. Bishop Sigurd was a man of grave and gentle spirit and a striking contrast to the ferocious court chaplain.

The Christianization of Viken was followed by that of Agder. Any decided opposition the king did not meet until he came to South Hördaland, where a number of mighty chieftains had gathered in the hope of intimidating him. His fearless and resolute behavior, however, impressed them so much that, after some negotiations, they accepted the faith and were baptized. In return for this concession, they demanded of the king that he should give his sister Aastrid in marriage to the young and high-born chief, Erling Skjalgsson of Sole; and as the king thought this marriage in every way desirable, he gave his consent. Encouraged by his success, Olaf hastened on to Tröndelag, where was the old and magnificent temple of Hlade, the principal sanctuary of Norse paganism. Impelled by holy zeal, and heedless of the consequences, he broke down the altar of the gods, burned their images, and carried off their treasures. The Trönders promptly responded to this challenge by sending the war-arrow[A] from house to house, and preparing to fight with the king. Olaf, who had but a small force with him, did not venture to offer them battle; but sailed northward to Haalogaland, where another armed band, under the command of Thore Hjort and Haarek of Thjotta, stood ready to receive him. As discretion was here the better part of valor, the king was in no haste to land, but returned to Tröndelag, where the peasants in the meanwhile had dispersed, and began to build a church in the place where the old temple had stood. He meant to show the Trönders that he was neither discouraged nor frightened, that neither threats nor arms could induce him to desist from his undertaking. With the desire to strengthen his power here, where it most needed strengthening, he began also the building of a royal residence, and laid the foundation of the future city of Nidaros or Drontheim (996).

[A] The war-arrow (hærör) was carried by every man to his next neighbor and stuck into his door, as a sign that war was at hand. To send or to cut the war-arrow is, therefore, to send a war message.

At the beginning of the winter he again summoned the peasants to meet him at the Frostathing, and they again responded by an armed concourse, much greater than the preceding one. When the assembly was called to order, the king rose and eloquently expounded the new faith, repeating his demand that the Trönders should accept baptism and cease to sacrifice. But he had not spoken long when the peasants began to interrupt him by angry shouts, threatening to attack him and chase him out of the country, unless he was silent. One of them, a chieftain named Skegge Aasbjörnsson or Ironbeard (Jernskjegge) was especially active in denouncing the king and exciting the people against him. Olaf came to the conclusion that nothing was to be accomplished here by persuasion, and he resolved reluctantly to postpone his propaganda until a more propitious time. He then began to talk in a more conciliatory spirit; promised the peasants to be present at their sacrificial feast at Yule-tide, and discuss further with them the change of faith. This promise was received with great satisfaction, and the assembly peacefully dispersed.

Shortly before the time appointed for the sacrifice, Olaf invited the chieftains and the most powerful peasants from all the neighboring shires, to meet him at a feast at Hlade. He placed thirty well-manned ships out in the fjord, where he could summon them in case of need. The guests were royally entertained, and as the night advanced became very drunk. In the morning the king ordered his priests to celebrate the mass, and a crowd of armed men arrived from the ships to attend the religious service. The guests, who were scarcely in a condition to profit by the worship, observed with growing uneasiness the size of the congregation. When the service was at an end, the king rose and addressed them as follows:

"When we held thing the last time, at Frosten, I demanded of the peasants that they should accept baptism; and they, on the other hand, demanded of me that I should sacrifice with them, as Haakon, Ethelstan's foster-son, had done. I made no objection to this, but promised to be present at the sacrificial feast at Möre. However, if I am to sacrifice with you, then I am minded to make a sacrifice of the biggest kind that has ever been made. I will not take thralls and criminals; but I will sacrifice the most high-born men and the mightiest peasants."

He then named six of the most powerful chieftains present, who had been his most active opponents, and declared that he meant to offer them up to Odin and Frey for good crops. Before they had time to recover from their astonishment, they were seized, and presented with the alternative of being baptized, or sacrificed to their own gods. They did not meditate long before choosing the former. When the ceremony was finished, they begged to be allowed to depart, but the king declared that he would detain them, until they had sent him their sons or brothers as hostages.

At the Yule-tide sacrifice at Möre, the king arrived with a large number of followers. The peasants, too, came in full force, armed to the teeth, and defiant as ever. Conspicuous among them was the burly form of Ironbeard, who was everywhere active and seemed the head and front of the opposition. The king endeavored to speak, but the noise was so great that nobody could hear him. After a while, however, the tumult subsided, and he repeated his former demand, that all present should accept baptism, and believe in Christ the White; to which Ironbeard haughtily responded, that the peasants were here to prevent the king from breaking the law, that sacrificing to the gods was in accordance with the law, and that Olaf, whether he would or not, would have to sacrifice, as his predecessors had done. The king listened patiently to this speech; and declared himself ready to keep his promise. Accompanied by many men he entered the temple, leaving his arms without; for no one was allowed to enter the sanctuary, bearing arms. The king carried, however, in his hand a stout stick with a gold head. He inspected the images of the gods carefully; lingering especially before that of Thor, which was adorned with rings of gold and silver. Suddenly, while all were looking at him, he raised his stick and gave the god a blow, so that he fell from his pedestal and broke into many pieces. At the very same instant his men struck down the other idols; and Ironbeard who was outside was slain. It was all evidently pre-arranged; and the peasants, who stood aghast at the magnitude of the sacrilege, scarcely knew whither to turn or how to resent it. They looked to Ironbeard to give voice to their outraged feeling, but Ironbeard was dead; and there was no one among the rest who had any desire to speak. When the king, therefore, for the third time, repeated his demand that they be baptized, or fight with him on the spot, they chose the former alternative. After having given hostages for their perseverance in the faith, and their abandonment of heathen practices, they made haste to return to their homes. For the slaying of Ironbeard, Olaf offered to pay a large "atonement" to his relatives, and to marry his daughter Gudrun. On the wedding-night, however, Gudrun attempted to murder him, and was returned to her kinsmen. He can scarcely have regretted her much, as he immediately prepared for a new matrimonial venture.