The Story of Norway

by Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen

"Happy I am now, my lord, that I am so near you—that I can touch you. * * * Dear my lord, receive me, and let me never more part from you."

Though his former comrades demanded his death, Sverre gave him full pardon. The king's desperate position was indeed sufficient guaranty of the sincerity of Thorstein's repentance. The whole country, outside of Tröndelag, was now in the hands of the rebels. The royal fleet was burned, and even many of the veteran Birchlegs had deserted. Then, as the final crushing blow, came the bull of Pope Innocent III., laying the country under interdict, prohibiting the celebration of public worship and the administration of the sacraments, in all those parts of the kingdom that yet remained faithful to Sverre. If the vicar of Christ had contented himself with hurling the thunderbolt of divine wrath against the king, he might perhaps have achieved his destruction. But the Pope, finding that the bull of his predecessor had been practically ineffective, aimed this time to affect the popular conscience, and he addressed to it certain arguments which showed how completely he had allowed himself to be deceived by Sverre's enemies. In his bull he described the king in a manner which must have appeared absurd to those who knew him; he attributed to him crimes which all knew that he had never committed; and exposed thereby—not Sverre's wickedness, but his own fallibility and partisanship. The king, instead of meekly submitting to an unfair sentence, felt, therefore, justified in coming forward in his own defence. He wrote or caused to be written, under his immediate supervision, a polemical brochure, in which he reviewed his relation to the Church and ably defended his conduct. The behavior of the clergy he subjected to a scathing criticism, showed the inconsistency of their position, as the partisans of Baglers, and exposed the true motive of their actions. The author's shrewdness, ability, and learning are manifest in every page, and the lucidity of expression and the plain common-sense arguments seem to reveal the well-known personality of Sverre. That it had the effect of preventing many from leaving him, who otherwise might have been frightened into desertion, is very probable. The disloyal clergy had, however, better facilities for reaching the people than the few who were yet faithful, and they improved their opportunity in inciting the peasants to an unreasoning, fanatical hostility to the excommunicated king. The Pope, in the meanwhile, was active in stirring up foreign enemies against him, and wrote the most urgent letters to the kings of Sweden and Denmark, exhorting them to merit the gratitude of God and his vicar, the Pope, by destroying the sacrilegious monster, Sverre. Happily, these exhortations had no effect; for King Knut of Denmark had his hands full at home, and King Sverke of Sweden was rather favorably inclined toward his neighbor.

In this desperate strait Sverre's true greatness revealed itself. He had been accustomed to fight against heavy odds, and the sense of danger served to bring all his energies into play. With undaunted resolution he set to work to repair his losses and to equip himself once more to meet his foes. His first task was to build a fleet instead of the one which the Baglers had destroyed; for without ships he would have been at their mercy. The Trönders whom he called upon for help assisted him faithfully; and by the beginning of spring (1199) he had eight large galleys ready to be launched. Besides these he expected a number of others which the peasants were building for him throughout Tröndelag. The city of Nidaros he fortified with a large new block-house, and built hurling-machines which were used for throwing stones at the enemy. Early in June the Baglers appeared in the fjord with a large fleet, and the usual skirmishing commenced. All their efforts to capture the city were, however, unavailing, and in the battle at Strindsö (June, 1199) their great fleet, which had formerly given them an advantage over the Birchlegs, fell into Sverre's hands. The battle was stubbornly contested, and both parties were wrought up to a warlike fury which refused to give or to take quarter. The king, whose gentleness and humane sentiments had made his stern resolution and courage the more admirable, put here a blot upon his fair name. He yielded to the importunities of his men, and allowed them to avenge the death of their kinsman upon the prisoners. It is but fair to ascribe this single act of cruelty to the momentary ferment of his blood and the hate that flared up uncontrollably against the authors of all his misfortunes.

After the battle of Strindsö the Baglers fled southward with the few ships that were left to them, and were pursued by Sverre, who did not, however, succeed in overtaking them. They found, as usual, a refuge in Denmark, where they continued to plot mischief. They felt themselves, in point of strength and resources, so superior to Sverre that it seemed to them merely a question of time, when they should gain possession of the entire land. Even in Nidaros, where the king was yet able to hold his own, the rebels had many sympathizers among the clergy. After his victory at Strindsö, Sverre sailed southward and went into winter-quarters in Oslo. The Baglers took advantage of his absence to visit Nidaros where they fought indecisively with an army of 1,800 peasants who undertook to defend the city. In the meanwhile a storm was drawing up over Sverre's head more menacing than any which he had hitherto weathered. The preaching of the disloyal clergy was beginning to show its effects. The peasants of Viken and the Oplands rose in rebellion, and poured in great torrents toward Oslo, for the purpose of destroying the excommunicated king. From three different directions their armies came marching, intending to effect a junction near the city, and by their greatly superior numbers overwhelm Sverre. The king had then only three thousand men, while the forces of the peasants, all told, must have numbered forty or fifty thousand. To fight against such odds would seem to be simple madness. Nevertheless he determined to sell his life dearly. Never did his genius shine more brightly than in the hour of danger. Calmly and confidently he addressed his men, assigning to each commander his task, and exhorting his Birchlegs to be brave, and to trust in God. Then, by a series of swift manœuvres, he prevented the junction of the hostile armies, leaving his sons, Sigurd Lavard and Haakon, to guard his rear, while he engaged and defeated the two main divisions of the peasant army. The force under Sigurd and Haakon, which only numbered four hundred and eighty men, had in the meanwhile been routed by the third division, numbering twenty-four hundred, and the king would have had small chance of escape, if the peasants had had the wit to follow up their advantage. Instead of that they began carousing in the city, and even refrained from firing the royal fleet, which was in their power, because they regarded it already as their own. When, however, the sanguinary battle which was in progress out on the ice was at an end, the hilarious peasants discovered their mistake. Sverre came, not as vanquished, but as victor. Then there was hurly-burly of battle once more—fight, flight, and pursuit. The yeomen, sturdy fellows though they were, and not unaccustomed to war, lacked discipline, and above all they lacked a competent commander. Sverre chased them so hotly that they had to fling away their shields and trust for safety to their speed alone.

HÖNEFOSS.

The exhausted Birchlegs had now need of rest, and the king ordered the famous loor Andvake to be blown, and gathered the army about him. Food and drink were brought from the city and the hungry warriors were about to refresh themselves, when they perceived that the fugitives of the several peasant armies had united, and were returning to challenge once more the fortune of battle. The rebels had discovered that they were yet, with a proper plan of attack, formidable enough to destroy the Birchlegs. Their chief purpose now was to kill Sverre, because they supposed that if he were dead, the resistance of his party would soon collapse. Reluctant though they were to fight again, the Birchlegs responded bravely to their king's exhortation. They stormed down to the frozen fjord, where the peasants were forming their battle line, and made a fierce onset. Sverre, as was his wont, rode about among them, was now at the front, now in the rear, and with his clear eye directed each manœuvre. The peasants, when they saw him, cried out: "Stab him, hew him down, kill him, cut his horse from under him." And from all sides resounded hoarsely the shout: "Stab him, kill him." But in their eagerness to slay Sverre, they neglected to preserve order. Their battle array broke up into a series of wild and irregular charges, the weak points of which Sverre was not slow to detect. The Birchlegs rushed in among them and routed them with great carnage. A liegeman, named Aale Hallvardsson, whom the rebels mistook for the king, because he was similarly dressed, fell after a brave defence, and an exultant shout was heard, that the king was slain. The Birchlegs were for a moment stricken with terror, and stopped in their pursuit. But suddenly Sverre came dashing forward on his horse; the warriors rallied joyously about him, the loor was blown for a fresh attack, and at the head of his men the king charged once more and broke the last resistance of the discomfited peasants.

This was the greatest victory that Sverre ever won, and altogether one of the most extraordinary battles ever fought in Norway. For the peasants a day of accounting was now at hand, and the king made them feel the heavy hand of his wrath. A policy of gentleness and amnesty they would have mistaken for fear; only severity could inspire them with respect. Many farms were burned and great fines in money and provisions were exacted from those who had taken part in the rebellion. One incident will suffice to show, however, how little Sverre's heart was in this work. As he was approaching a farm, a little boy came running out of the woods and begged him piteously not to burn his home.

"Nay, surely it shall be spared, since thou askest," answered Sverre, gently; "and if the peasants had stayed at home and begged for peace, no farm would have been burned. Tell them now, that the rest will be spared."