After this event, Hako and the Danish king, who knew the advantages which they expected could be gained only by celerity, sailed with a powerful armament for Norway. Many were the exiles who accompanied them, and whom the cruelty of Gunhilda and her sons had forced to abandon their homes. Among them was Harald Grenske, the son of king Gudred who had been so treacherously slain by the Norwegian brothers. On reaching Tunsberg, the Danish king was joined by multitudes of the inhabitants, of whom all were dissatisfied with the sons of Eric. The first care of Harald was to reward his counsellor and friend, Hako, whom he placed over seven provinces in the west and centre of the kingdom, all to be held feudally, as they had been held by the jarls of Harald Harfager. There was, however, this distinction in favour of Hako, that if the necessities of the public service should require it,—if, for instance, the territory should be invaded by an enemy,—he was at liberty to employ all its revenues for its defence. Harald Grenske, being of the royal blood of Norway, then eighteen years of age, received the title of king, and with it Westfold, Vingulmark, and part of Ayder. The rest of the kingdom was confided to Sweyn, son of the Danish monarch, as the viceroy of his father, who was hailed as the lord paramount of the whole. Gunhilda, with her two surviving sons, fled to the Orkneys, and Harald of Denmark retired to his own capital.[[199]]

|978 to 988.|

In his very dreams Hako could scarcely have anticipated the prosperity which was now his lot. His father had been only the jarl of Drontheim; his own life had been perpetually hunted by the sons of Eric; he had been an exile for many years; yet he was now the ruler of seven provinces, not removeable at the pleasure of the Danish monarch, except by open force. But he was not, says the historian, happy. His nights were often sleepless; and when he did sleep, his dreams were disturbed. It was not remorse which thus rendered him anxious; it was ambition. That he aspired to the sovereignty of all Norway, may, from the time of Harald’s departure, be inferred from every action. But many were his opponents or rivals, whom he hoped time or chance, intrigue or revolution, would remove. The first who troubled him in his government was Ragenfrid, one of the surviving sons of Eric. From the Orkneys, this chief, with a considerable fleet, sailed for Norway. Hearing that Hako was at Drontheim, he landed in the southern provinces, and spread his devastations on every side. On the approach of the jarl he hastened to his ships; in a naval action he was victorious; but as he was unable to contend with Hako on land, he proceeded to ravage the coast wherever it was inadequately defended; and in a short time he seized Sogne, Hardaland, Fiord, and some other districts. The following spring, jarl Hako, having collected troops on every side, renewed the war. This time fortune did not desert him: he vanquished Ragenfrid, whom he also expelled from Norway. His next wish was to remove Harald Grenske; but he was wily enough to wait for time and circumstances. The same time and circumstances, he trusted, would release him from all dependence on the Danish court. At first he forwarded the stipulated revenues to Harald; but he soon sent a portion only, or withheld them entirely, on the plea that the defence of the country required them all. But he had no wish prematurely to offend that monarch; and when required to assist in the war against the emperor Otho, he served personally in the war. The issue was not prosperous: Harald, as we have before related, was compelled to receive baptism, and Hako to follow the example. But he was still a pagan; and he resolved that the missionaries, with whom he was to return into Norway, should never see that country. He therefore landed them on the Swedish coast, and after wasting Gothbed with fire and sword, proceeded to his favourite Drontheim. There, and wherever he had the power, he restored paganism to its ancient splendour; nor would he tolerate Christianity. This conduct was offensive to Harald; but that monarch had other wrongs to avenge. The jarl not only refused the accustomed tribute and proclaimed his independence, but ravaged the coasts of Jutland. Harald retaliated on those of Norway. His purpose was to subdue Iceland, with the sarcastic poets of which he was offended; but he had more solid reasons for the conquest than those assigned by the chronicler. That island, like the Orkneys, was the resort of pirates whenever they were defeated in Scandinavia. His desire to explore the state of Iceland before he invaded it has given rise to a legend which may be mentioned for its novelty. He persuaded a wizard—no doubt a Finn—to change his form, and repair to that island. No form seemed so judicious as that of a large fish; and under it the magician made the voyage, without the incumbrance of ships or men. But his ingenuity availed him little. On attempting to land at the first bay, a huge dragon forced him to seek the deep. At another, a large bird equally opposed his landing. If the east and north of the island were thus guarded, surely the west coast, which was then, as now, wholly unfrequented, would be more accessible. The hope was vain; a fierce bull advanced into the water to meet him. Nor was the southern coast more hospitable: as he attempted to land he perceived a huge giant, whose head was higher than the hills, and whose hand was graced with a ponderous bar of iron. To attempt the conquest of a region guarded by local deities, or by extraordinary magic, was hopeless; and the baffled Finn returned to Denmark.[[200]]

|900 to 993.|

So long as Harald lived, Hako appears to have remained undisturbed; but, after the accession of Sweyn, a powerful fleet sailed from Denmark to chastise his rebellion. Yet it entirely failed; patriotism roused the Norwegians to unite, and repel the invaders. As yet, too, Hako had shown few proofs of that unbridled licence which distinguished him in the following years. He had many great qualities; he was active, enterprising, brave in a degree seldom equalled, even in an age of heroes. Great was his triumph over the formidable Sweyn; and he had no longer a rival, except in Harald Grenske: nor did this king long thwart his views. The way in which Grenske met his fate has in it much of romance, yet is in no respect contrary to probability, or inconsistent with the manners of the times. In a piratical expedition to the Baltic, he landed on the Swedish coast, of which kingdom Olaf, son of Eric the Victorious, was the head. In his youth Harald had been reared in Sweden; and his foster-sister was Sigfrida, mother of the king. Hearing that Harald was on the coast, not far from her manor, she sent him an invitation to visit her, and he readily accepted it. Never was hospitality more open or more agreeable. The widowed queen, who sat on a throne to honour Harald and his chiefs, presided over a sumptuous entertainment; and, after it, she encouraged the circulation of the horn, not merely by her invitation, but by her example. “All drank manfully,” says the historian, which means deeply enough. But neither the lady nor Harald indulged so much as the rest; and when the latter was laid in the magnificent bed which had been prepared for him, the queen entered his apartment, horn in hand, and challenged him to drink more. At length both were intoxicated, until Harald was overpowered by sleep, when Sigfrida went to her own couch. The next day the entertainment was renewed; but this time both hostess and guest were moderate. Love had entered the heart of Harald, but he durst not declare it; and after some time he took his leave, and returned to Norway. But he could not rest; and when spring came, he revisited the Baltic. Affection had made him timid; he durst not, unbidden, go to the house of Sigfrida, and he requested an interview on the sea-coast. She rode to the place, and Harald, dismissing his attendants, mentioned his passion. It found no response in her heart. He had, she observed, a good wife already. The king rejoined, that Asta, his queen, was no fit match for him; that she was much inferior in birth. “That may be true,” replied Sigfrida, who was believed to possess some knowledge of futurity; “but at this very moment she is pregnant of a son, who will be a great honour to you both.” She then departed as she had arrived, on horseback, leaving Harald in much despondency. Unable to desist from his hopeless suit, he again repaired to her palace, and found another royal suitor. As before, the entertainment was good; but, in the ensuing night, both kings were destroyed by their hostess. The fleet returned to Asta without its leader. She immediately repaired to her father’s house in the uplands, and gave birth to a son, whom she named Olaf, destined to become the sainted king of Norway.[[201]]

|993 to 995.|

Hako, now the sole ruler of all Norway, was, like many other princes, unable to resist prosperity. The love which his people—at least, the inhabitants of Drontheim—had long borne him, had changed into hatred, by the licentiousness of his conduct in his declining years. The daughters of his noblest chiefs he forcibly brought to his palace, and, after a few days, returned them to their families. Murmurs arose; but they were disregarded by the hoary idolater, who thought his power too well established to be shaken. But he was at length roused from this dream of security, by the report that there was a descendant of fair-haired Harald, unequalled for valour, who probably aspired to the throne of his ancestors. This was Olaf, the son of Trygve, whose adventures are the most romantic in the history of the North.[[202]]

|969 to 970.|

On the death of Trygve, Astridda, his widow, who was then pregnant, fearing the vengeance of Gunhilda and her sons, fled to an island in the solitary lake of the uplands, where, in 969, she brought forth a son, whom she named Olaf, after his grandfather of that name. There she remained the whole summer, accompanied only by her foster-father, and two or three domestics. But when the days began to shorten, the cold breezes from the lake were too much for Astridda and her child; and, accompanied by the same faithful domestics, she left her island home. To escape observation, she never came within sight of human habitation; and when, after many days, she approached her father’s habitation, she was too cautious to enter. A messenger acquainted him with her arrival; and he met her at a solitary hut in the forest, where every domestic comfort was supplied her. Two maid servants only, with her foster-father, his child, and her infant son, formed her whole establishment. It was fortunate for her that, during this winter, Gunhilda and her sons were too closely occupied by Hako, the jarl, to have leisure for pursuing her. But that ambitious woman had heard of Olaf’s birth; and when spring arrived, she sent her spies to inquire into the truth of the report, and where both mother and child might be found. Their inquiries were successful; and a chief, with thirty horsemen, was despatched to bring the infant to the court of Gunhilda. Eric, however, the father of Astridda, was told their purpose when they were only a few miles distant from the house. It was nightfall; and he led his daughter, with her precious charge and a few domestics, into the forest, where he acquainted her with her danger, with his inability to protect her, and with the necessity of her hastening, in the most secret manner, to the house of an aged friend in Sweden. No sooner had she departed, than he returned to his own house, to await the arrival of the horsemen. Fortunately, both for him and his daughter, they did not immediately call upon him, but passed the night at a neighbouring house. The following morning, when he was asked where his daughter and grandson were, he denied that they were with him; and, on their refusing to believe him, he allowed them to search every corner of his habitation. But the leader of the band was at length informed of their route, and, causing his men to mount, he pursued it. Darkness overtaking them, they passed the night with a rich landowner, whom they carelessly asked whether he had seen a woman with a child pass that way. He replied, that a woman and child, in very mean attire, with other persons equally humble, had besought his hospitality, and that he had refused to lodge them,—for, like worthies of recent times, he had a great dislike to beggars,—but he believed they were at some cottage in the neighbourhood. And so they were;—at the cottage of an honest farmer, and less distant than was suspected. But Providence watched over the safety of mother and son. While this conversation was passing, a peasant in the employment of that farmer accidentally called at the rich man’s house, on his return from the forest to his master’s. He heard all that had passed; and, ignorant of Astridda’s arrival, communicated it to his master. The Norwegian, as prudent as he was humane, perceiving that the third part of the night was already past, went to his guests, who were fast asleep, and told them, in an angry voice, to rise and leave his house. They tremblingly obeyed; but no sooner were they beyond the inclosure, than he acquainted them with the cause of his seeming harshness. He sent them to a solitary lake, on which was an island covered with reeds, and bade them remain concealed until they saw him again. As the water of the lake was shallow, they easily waded to the island, and concealed themselves, while Thorsteim (his name shall not be buried in oblivion) returned to his own house. As he had foreseen, on the following morning the chief of the horsemen, after inquiring at many houses, called at his, and inquired after the fugitives. “They have been here,” was the reply; “but, before the break of day, they both left me, and went into the wood.” Nor was he unprepared for the next question,—whether he would be their guide in searching for the mother. He readily consented; and, as may easily be conceived, led them in a direction exactly contrary to that which they had pursued. Nor was this all. On the pretext that they should probably be more successful if they separately continued the search, he left them, but only to delude them by new expedients. The day was thus wasted, and the horsemen returned to Gunhilda. That evening Thorsteim went to the island, provided the fugitives with a store of provisions, and, what was much better, with a faithful guide. Astridda pursued her journey, and, without any further interruption, reached the house of Hako the Old, by whom she and her infant were affectionately received, and with whom they remained about three years.[[203]]

|964 to 966.|