Forthwith he gave orders to his men to refrain from further destruction.
The heroic endurance which Sverre had developed in this long and exhausting struggle had indeed weakened the cause of the Baglers, but had by no means deprived them of their courage. A civil war and particularly a war of classes, such as this was, arouses fiercer hates and passions than international contests, and must therefore continue, until one party or the other is utterly humbled or destroyed. The Norse magnates, who formed the bone and sinew of the Bagler party, hated Sverre, not only because they believed him to be an upstart and an adventurer, but as the destroyer of the old oligarchic government, in which they had secured the lion's share of power. A class, so formidably intrenched both in the institutions and the traditions of the country, could not be overthrown at one blow; nor could it be humbled by misfortunes and reverses. It was not in his clerical capacity, but as the most eminent representative of the old aristocracy, that Bishop Nicholas became their leader; and the adherence of the clergy to the Bagler party was not so much the result of a personal sympathy with him, as of a common animosity to the democratic king, the leveller of distinctions, the champion of the rabble. These proud descendants of the great historic families of Norway were of the same blood as the Norman nobility of England, and though they did not live in castles, nor dress in satin and ermine, yet they were animated by the same spirit. They were ready to fight for their rights, whether real or imagined, even against their own king and country.
In the spring of 1201 Sverre called fresh levies from the ever faithful North, and sailed again southward, leaving a garrison in Bergen under the command of his friend, Dagfinn Peasant, and his son-in-law Einar, surnamed the Priest. He learned that the Bagler chief, Reidar Messenger, with about two hundred and forty men had taken possession of the block-house at Tunsberg, and he thought the opportunity a favorable one for annihilating one of his most dangerous enemies. To this end he laid siege to the block-house, which, however, from its situation on the mountain, overlooking the town, was wellnigh impregnable. His attempt to take it by storm failed, and his various ingenious stratagems were likewise unsuccessful. After a siege of twenty weeks, the Baglers were reduced to such a strait that for their Christmas dinner they had to eat boiled and chopped ropes, made out of walrus and sealskin. They could not endure this long; one by one they began to desert, in the dead of night, and instead of being slain, as they expected, they were received with kindness by the king. The Birchlegs grumbled loudly at his forbearance, but he rebuked them sternly, and they had to own that he was right. Last of all came Reidar Messenger with the little band that had remained with him. Sverre not only spared his life, but he treated him with the greatest consideration. He warned the Baglers not to eat too heartily after their long fast, and cared for those among them who were ill. Many who disregarded his advice died; while others dragged themselves through life with ruined health. The chief himself also suffered much, although Sverre exerted all his medical skill to cure him.
The incessant hardships of war and the strain upon his energies which they involved had, in the meanwhile, undermined the king's strength, and he was after a while compelled to take to his bed. When he left Tunsberg in January or February, 1202, he had his bed made on the raised poop of the deck, and that of the Bagler chief was placed at his side. And there lay, side by side, the conqueror and the conquered, gazing up into the wintry sky, and watching the clouds that chased each other under the wind-swept vault. Often they talked pleasantly together, and each learned to admire the remarkable qualities of the other. Reidar, who had been a crusader, told of his adventures and observations in Constantinople, and the Holy Land; and the days passed quickly to the king, while he listened to the entertaining narrative. On the arrival of the fleet in Bergen, the king was moved to the royal mansion where his bed was made in the great hall. When he felt that his death was near, he called some of his trusted friends to him and declared solemnly, in their presence, that he had but one son living, namely Haakon, and if any one else claimed to be his son, he was a rebel, and an impostor. Then he ordered a letter, which he had dictated to Haakon, to be read and sealed, and he charged his nephews, Haakon Galen, and Peter Steyper, to deliver it into his hands.
"I wish," he said, "before receiving the extreme unction, to be lifted into my high-seat, and there await life or death."
When the sacrament, in spite of his excommunication, had been administered to him, he continued: "My kingship has brought me more tribulation, disquietude, and danger, than ease and pleasure, and methinks that mere envy has impelled many to become my enemies, which sin may God now forgive them, and judge between them and me and in my whole cause."
King Sverre expired March 9th, 1202. He was in point of genius the greatest king who has ever ruled over Norway. A bright, clear, and resolute spirit dwelt within his small frame. His presence of mind and his wonderful fertility of resource saved him out of the most desperate situations. Firmness, and gentleness were admirably united in his character. A clear-sighted policy, based upon expediency as well as upon conviction, governed his actions from the beginning of his reign to its end. He possessed the faculty of attaching men to him, even when he punished them and restrained their lawless passions. Though he did not possess the beauty or the magnificent physical presence of the earlier kings of Norway, he knew how to inspire respect as well as love. The charm of his conversation, and his affability of manner impressed every one who came in contact with him. "What especially makes his personality interesting," says Munch,[A] "is the remarkable mingling of seriousness and humor, which seems to be peculiar to the Norse national character, and which, in his demeanor, was so striking that he may almost be regarded as its embodiment."
[A] Munch, iii., 391.
In many respects he was much in advance of his age. Thus, it is told of him that, so far from regarding the national vice, drunkeness, as an amiable weakness, for which no man was any the worse, he endeavored earnestly to check it, and punished with severity those who committed excesses under the influence of drink. As far as his constant occupation with war permitted him, he encouraged trade and all industrial pursuits. For learning he had a high regard; was himself a good Latin scholar and well read in the law, and displayed much zeal in procuring for his sons the best educational advantages that the time afforded. In spite of the hardships and dangers, to which he was constantly exposed, he lived to be fifty years old,—an age which, since the death of Harold the Fairhaired, but one king of Norway had reached.