But the fortunes of Olaf and of his mother were still to be singular. They had not long enjoyed the hospitality of Hako, when Gunhilda sent an embassy to Eric, king of Sweden, to obtain possession of the young prince. Under the specious promise of amply providing for one whose fortunes she pitied, and the fate of whose father she had long bewailed, her messenger easily prevailed on Eric to send an escort to the house of Hako for the prince. But, at the court of Eric, Hako had a son, who was present when the affair was mentioned to the king; and he gave his father timely warning of the Norwegian’s approach. The Swedish noble was therefore prepared for his visitor. After the display of much ceremonious politeness, the ambassador mentioned the anxiety of Gunhilda to educate young Olaf in a manner becoming his birth; and begged that the royal child might be confided to his care,—a request in which the Swedish king joined. “Astridda,” replied the wary Hako, “is the mistress of her own actions, and if she consents to thy proposal, I can have no objection to it.” On the refusal of Astridda, the disappointed ambassador returned to Eric’s court, and obtained a stronger force, with the intention of removing the child by violence, should entreaties be unavailing. As before, Hako was prepared, and he was less complaisant than on the former occasion. “Astridda,” was the substance of his reply to the renewed proposal, “has no great reason to confide in the promises of Gunhilda; she knows her wiles, her deceit; she is still averse from thy proposal; and the boy cannot go without the mother’s consent, nor shall I allow her inclination to be forced, so long as she continues under my protection.” High words arose; the ambassador threatened to employ force; Hako replied, that men more powerful than he would fail in such an attempt. The dispute reached the ears of a cowherd of Hako’s—a huge herculean man—who, seizing a pitchfork, hastened to the scene, and said, “Is it thou who darest to insult my princely master in his own house? Choose one of these two things,—either speedily retire from this neighbourhood, or prepare for thy death by this pitchfork, which will be equally fatal to thy companions!” The ambassador and his suite hastily retreated, and on their return to Norway acquainted the disappointed Gunhilda with the ill success of his journey.[[204]]
|976 to 984.|
Whether through fear lest king Eric should, in the end, force her son from her, or through the desire of seeing her brother Sigurd, who was then in high favour with Waldemar, a king of Gardarik[[205]], Astridda left the hospitable roof of Hako. By him she was confided to the care of some merchants who traded with Gardarik, and supplied with everything necessary for her voyage. In the Gulf of Finland they were taken by Esthonian pirates, separated, and sold. Olaf, Thorolf, and the son of Thorolf, became the property of one who, seeing the old man past service, put him to death; the two boys were afterwards sold to different masters, and Astridda sent nobody knew where. Subsequently, the same master purchased Thorgils, the foster-brother of Olaf, and employed him in the meanest drudgery. But the prince was not thus treated; he was soon beloved by the old pagan, and beheld in the light of a son. It happened, one day, that Sigurd, the uncle of Olaf, came to the master’s house, and saw the boy, then about ten years old, playing with others of his age. He saluted Sigurd; the latter returned the courtesy, and was immediately struck with the foreign countenance of the boy. In answer to his questions, the boy told him his name, and the names of his parents. Sigurd at once recognised his nephew, whom he redeemed; but the boy would not go with him unless he was accompanied by Thorgils, who was redeemed at a lower price. To the honour of the pagan master of Olaf, it must be added, that he would not have sold the boy, unless Sigurd had given a pledge that he should never be resold, and that he should be treated as well as he had been under his own roof. Both children were taken to the court of Sigurd’s master, who reigned in the vicinity of Novgorod. The attachment which Olaf bore to his friends was equalled by his hatred to his enemies, and to the enemies of his friends. One day, as he stood in the public market, he perceived the merchant who had killed Thorolf: approaching with much deliberation, he drew his little sword, inflicted a mortal wound in the head of the merchant, and immediately ran to acquaint his uncle with the deed which he had performed. Apprehensive of the consequences, Sigurd led his nephew into the presence of the queen, and besought her protection; and through her influence, a pecuniary compensation was received by the relations of the deceased. He soon became a favourite at court; the king, learning his royal birth, placed him among his nobles; and nine years passed away with rapidity. Every accomplishment becoming his descent and his future prospects was acquired by him. Among these was piracy, to which, from his twelfth year, he was habituated. In it he acquired considerable reputation during the following years; and was most useful to the king by destroying other piratical vessels which disturbed the peace of Gardarik, and by the rich treasures which he brought from his frequent expeditions. But his favour with the king had the ordinary effect,—it created rivals and enemies; and he left the court to do what so many of his ancestors had done before him,—to pursue his fortunes on the deep.[[206]]
|985 to 994.|
On the shores of the Baltic the young chief obtained much celebrity, alike for his valour and success. He was consequently joined by many piratical vassals, until he had a considerable fleet under his command. Towards the close, he caused his vessels to anchor in a bay on the coast of Pomerania, which was then governed by a princess, the daughter of duke Borislaf, whose husband was lately deceased. The fame of his exploits, of his accomplishments, of his personal comeliness, reached her ears, and through her minister she sent him an invitation to pass the winter in her capital. It was readily accepted; and the natural consequence followed,—her marriage with the pirate chief. Invested by this union with the military government of the state, Olaf defended the rights of his consort much more eagerly than those of her subjects. Some territories and fortresses which had been dismembered from the duchy, he restored to it. But in one of these warlike expeditions, he was nearly a victim to the bad faith of the barbarians. Leading his troops against a fortified town which had thrown off its allegiance to the princess, he pressed the inhabitants so closely that they offered to submit to his discretion, and opened their gates to receive them. No sooner, however, had a few of his men entered with him, than the ponderous barricades were closed, and he was assailed by a multitude. But a sea king never lost his presence of mind. Commanding his followers to imitate his example, he repaired to the walls, fighting as he retreated; and on reaching them, he leaped to the ground outside the fortifications. The place was now assailed with the vigour which exasperation always gives; it was soon carried by storm; the garrison were put to the sword, and the walls levelled with the earth.—But this humble sphere was too narrow for his ambition, which the events then passing in Norway served to inflame. In about a year after his marriage, he sailed with a small number of vessels to the coast of Sweden, ravaged Scania and Gothland, took one or two prizes, assisted the emperor Otho in the invasion of Denmark, and in the victory which the temporal head of Christendom obtained over the pagan Dane, and was present at the deliberations which preceded the restoration of peace.[[207]] That he was half a Christian—at least in disposition—is evident from the relation of his biographer; but where he had acquired the little knowledge he possessed of Christianity is not so clear. His biographer affirms that he had often heard of the Christian doctrines,—which may be true enough; but we cannot subscribe to the next assertion, that one reason of his esteem for the new faith was, a miracle which he had seen archbishop Poppo work in presence of Otho and Harald of Denmark. However this be, he had a great aversion to idolatry; and, even at the court of the pagan king in Gardarik, he had always refused to sacrifice to the gods. In the army of Otho he met with his father-in-law, duke Borislaf; and after the successful termination of the war, he returned into Pomerania. But his restless disposition would not long permit him to remain with his bride; and he led another expedition to various shores of the Baltic. After the death of his consort, which happened in three years after his marriage, he would no longer remain in Pomerania. Probably the event disposed him to humility, to reflection. However this be, he was now better instructed in the principles of Christianity,—whether in Greece, as his biographer assures us, or in some Slavonian province where Greek missionaries were labouring, is of little moment. But the baptismal rite was not administered to him for some years afterwards,—until he visited a hermit in the west. He is said to have been instrumental in the conversion, also, of his master, the king of Holmgard, and of the queen. Whatever his zeal might be at this period of life, at a subsequent one, as we shall soon perceive, it was great enough. But his religion was, like that of the period, a strange one: it did not deter him from ravaging the coasts of Christian countries, from burning the huts of the poor, and sacrificing the inmates. Years after his pretended change of belief, he was occupied in this dreadful profession, from the coasts of Russia to those of Brittany and Ireland. In Ireland or in England,—probably in the latter,—he is said to have married an Irish princess, named Gyda; but before the ceremony could take place, he was compelled to fight with a rival, whom he soon vanquished. After this event, he was sometimes in England, sometimes in Ireland, but every where his fame as a warrior extended. The sea kings of this period were accustomed to fight as much for others as for themselves, by hiring their services to any native prince who had need of them; nor did it unfrequently happen that the northmen were, at the same time, in opposite ranks. For such services the wages were always abundant; sometimes in land, more frequently in gold and rich merchandise. Nor must we forget that, when on the coast of a friendly power, the pirates exercised the profession of merchants, and traded from one port or one kingdom to another, with more regularity than we generally suppose. But this pursuit was much too quiet for the sea king, and he followed it from necessity only: his delight was in scenes of excitement—in those of danger and carnage. Whether in peace or war, no scruple was felt in stealing cattle from any coast. While in Ireland, an adventure befell Olaf which illustrates both this statement and his own character. He and his men had disembarked on a certain part of the coast, seized a multitude of cattle, and were driving them towards their ships, when a poor farmer ran after them, and begged the chief to restore the animals which had been stolen from him. “Thou mayst have them,” replied Olaf, “if, without impeding our march, thou canst distinguish them from such a multitude.” The man had a dog, which singled out the animals, one by one, to the great amazement of the chief. “Wilt thou part with this dog?” demanded Olaf. “Readily!” was the answer; and Olaf, not satisfied with restoring the man’s cattle, made him some valuable presents.[[208]]
|967 to 993.|
In all his voyages, Olaf never despaired of being one day able to procure the rights of his birth in Norway, and his eyes were frequently turned to that country. Nor was he without anxiety as to the fate of his mother, of whom he had heard nothing since the day on which, while yet an infant, he had been separated from her. Her adventures may, for a moment, occupy the reader’s attention. After remaining a slave for some time, she was seen in Pomerania by a Norwegian pirate of noble birth: at first he did not recognise her; where health and cheerfulness and beauty had once been, he observed paleness and melancholy; but there was, alike in her appearance and manner, something that inspired him with respect. A closer examination convinced him that he saw Astridda, the queen of Trygve, before him; he entered into conversation with her, and learned that she was now on sale. She besought him to ransom her, and return her to her friends; and he promised to do so on one condition,—that she would become his bride. Her situation was not one that admitted of either scruple or hesitation; she became his wife, and the mother of several children. Year after year rolled away, and the mother heard not of the son, or the son of the mother. The fame of his exploits, indeed, had reached Norway; but he had assumed another name,—that of Olo, a native of Gardarik, and by it he was known to all the princes of his time, from the imperial Otho to the humblest piratical chief. But Hako, the usurper of Norway, knew the truth; and as his favour with the people, from his new vices, was now departing[[209]], he began to look with much anxiety towards Ireland, where Olaf had for some time been. To remove this aspiring rival was necessary to his safety; and he immediately devised the means of carrying his design into execution.[[210]]
|995 to 996.|
Intimately connected with Hako was a piratical chief, Thorer by name, a man of enterprise, who had acquired reputation on the deep, and who would not hesitate to execute any commission with which he might be entrusted. This man was the fittest instrument for alluring Olaf into the power of Hako. By open force, no chief could hope to succeed; for Olaf was followed by some of the most noted heroes of his time, and was at the head of some ships. He must therefore, if possible, be brought to Norway; or, as a last resource, assassinated. As the deceitful representations which Thorer was enjoined to make might not have their due effect on Olaf, two of his kinsmen, whom he had never seen—the brothers of his mother—were to be associated with him, and, if need were, to confirm his statement.[[211]] They revolted, we are told, at this meditated treachery, and refused to share in it until menaced with the loss of their own lives. However this be, Thorer hastened to Dublin to put his design into execution. To lull suspicion, he was provided with abundant merchandise, which he was to barter in Dublin, a port then flourishing for its commerce. He had little difficulty in discovering the abode of Olo of Gardarik, the only name by which Olaf was known. By degrees, he cultivated the acquaintance of Olaf; and, as he was a man of great observation, eloquent, and specious, he was a welcome visitor. As usual, Olaf, without naming himself, inquired after his family connections;—how many were living, what their condition in life, what their influence with the public. When satisfied on these points, he inquired into the character, the power, the reputation of Hako. “The jarl,” replied Thorer, “is a great prince, absolute in everything, and no man dare contradict him; but, if I must speak confidentially, he is tolerated only because of old Harold’s race no scion remains whom the people might choose in lieu of him. Many are the nobles, the chiefs, the warriors, the people, who would rush to the standard of such a rival, if one were to appear in Norway. But why talk thus vainly? no prince of that house survives.” Such was the manner in which Thorer fulfilled his commission; and we cannot be surprised that, after a few interviews, Olaf opened his heart to the traitor. He was not, by birth, Olo of Gardarik,—he was Olaf, the son of king Trygve; and might he, indeed, hope that the Norwegians would accept him, in preference to Hako? Thorer solemnly affirmed that, if he but showed himself to the people, the reign of Hako would be at an end. He did more; he professed the warmest interest in the fate of his new friend, whom he exhorted to sail, without delay, to his native country. With five ships only—for why engage many where none would be needed—the prince, accompanied by Thorer, left Dublin, passed the Hebrides, and at length reached the Orkneys. The jarl of these islands was Sigurd, who welcomed the strangers: but in Olaf he found a master. The prince, already assuming the rights of sovereignty, commanded the jarl to receive baptism, and, on his hesitation, threatened him with death if he refused. The choice was not difficult, and the Christian church had one hypocrite more. Homage, too, was done to the new king; and, as a pledge of fidelity, Whelp, the son of Sigurd, accompanied Olaf to Norway.[[212]]
|995 to 996.|