Erling the Bold

by R. M. Ballantyne

“I agree not with Haldor,” he said sternly. “Who does not know that Harald is rightful King of Norway; that he is descended in a direct line from the godars who came over from the east with Odin, and has been fairly elected King of Norway? But who does not know also, that our laws are above our King, that Harald is at this time trampling on these laws, and is everywhere setting at defiance the small kings, who are as truly udal-born to their rights and titles as himself?”

At this point Ulf’s indignation became so great that he found he could not talk connectedly, so he concluded by counselling that they should go to the Springs fully armed, and ready to brave the worst. There was a loud shout of approval, and then Erling started up. His manner and tone were subdued, but his face was flushed; and men could see, as he went on, that he was keeping down his wrath and his energy.

“I like it ill,” he said, “to disagree on this point with my father; but Ulf is right. We all know that Harald is King of Norway by law, and we do not meet here to dispute his title; but we also know that kings are not gods. Men create a law and place it over their own heads, so that the lawmakers as well as those for whom it is made must bow before it; but when it is found that the law works unfairly, the lawmaker may repeal it, and cast it aside as useless or unworthy. So kings were created for the sole purpose of guiding nations and administering laws, in order that national welfare might be advanced. The moment they cease to act their part, that moment they cease to be worthy kings, and become useless. But if, in addition to this, they dare to ignore and break the laws of the land, then do they become criminal; they deserve not only to be cast aside, but punished. If, in defence of our rights, we find it necessary to dethrone the King, we cannot be charged with disloyalty, because the King has already dethroned himself!”

Erling paused a moment at this point, and a murmur of approval ran through the circle of his auditors.

“When Harald Haarfager’s father,” he resumed, “Halfdan the Black, ruled over Norway, he made laws which were approved by the people. He obeyed them himself, and obliged others to observe them; and, that violence should not come in the place of the laws, he himself fixed the number of criminal acts in law, and the compensations, mulcts, or penalties, for each case, according to everyone’s birth and dignity, from the King downwards; so that when disputes were settled at the Things the utmost fair play prevailed—death for death, wound for wound; or, if the parties chose, matters could be adjusted by payments in money—each injury being valued at a fixed scale; or matters might be settled and put right by single combat. All this, ye know full well, Halfdan the Black compassed and settled in a legal manner, and the good that has flowed from his wise and legal measures (for I hold that a king is not entitled to pass even wise laws illegally) has been apparent to us ever since. But now all this is to be overturned—with or without the consent of the Things—because a foolish woman, forsooth, has the power to stir up the vanity of a foolish king! Shall this be so? Is our manhood to be thus riven from us, and shall we stand aloof and see it done, or, worse still, be consenting unto it? Let death be our portion first! It has been rumoured that the people of southern lands have done this—that they have sold themselves to their kings, so that one man’s voice is law, and paid troops of military slaves are kept up in order that this one man may have his full swing, while his favourites and his soldier-slaves bask in his sunshine and fatten on the people of the land! It is impossible for us of Norway to understand the feelings or ideas of the men who have thus sold themselves—for we have never known such tyranny—having, as the scalds tell us, enjoyed our privileges, held our Things, and governed ourselves by means of the collective wisdom of the people ever since our forefathers came from the East; but I warn ye that if this man, Harald Haarfager, is allowed to have his will, our institutions shall be swept away, our privileges will depart, our rights will be crushed, and the time will come when it shall be said of Norsemen that they have utterly forgotten that they once were free! Again I ask, shall we tamely stand aside and suffer this to be? Shall our children ever have it in their power to say, ‘There was a time when our mean-spirited forefathers might have easily stopped the leak that caused the flood by which we are now borne irresistibly downward?’ I repeat, let us rather perish! Let us go armed to the Springs and tell the King that he—equally with ourselves—is subject to the laws of the land!”

Erling delivered the last sentence in a voice of thunder, and with a fierce wave of the hand, that drew forth shouts of enthusiastic applause.

Instantly Glumm started up, forgetful, in the heat of the moment, of the jealousy that had so recently sprung up between him and his friend.

“I am not a speaker,” he shouted gruffly, “but poor is the man who cannot back up and egg on his friend. Erling speaks the truth; and all I have to suggest is that he should be sent by us to tell all this to King Harald Haarfager’s face!”

Glumm sat down with the prompt decision of a man who has thoroughly delivered himself of all that he intends to say; and many in the assembly testified their approval of his sentiments.

At this point Ivor the Old arose and gave it as his opinion that the sooner the King should be brought off his high horse the better; whereupon Finn the One-eyed suggested, with a laugh, that the old hermit should be sent with his bow and arrow to teach him due submission to the laws. Then there was a good deal of confused, and not a little passionate discussion, which waxed louder and more vehement until Guttorm Stoutheart stood up, and, although not a dalesman, requested the attention of the assembly for a few minutes.