History of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, Vol. 2 (of 2)

by S. A. Dunham

Never was the joy of people greater than that of the Danes when Valdemar, whose talents had been tried on so many occasions, succeeded to the undivided throne. They had need of an enlightened, a patriotic, an active, a firm governor to rescue them from anarchy at home, and humiliation abroad. One of his most urgent objects was to secure his coasts against the pagan rovers. In his first expedition, however, he effected little; his armament was inadequate to the undertaking. In the second, he subdued most of the isle of Rugen, and obtained great plunder. In the third, he had for his ally Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony; and both princes overran the maritime coasts of the Baltic, dictating such terms as they pleased. But such expeditions had never any permanent effect. If the pagans submitted, or fled, scarcely was their victor beyond the confines of their territory, than they recommenced their lawless career. It was so with Valdemar; it had been so with the most valiant of his predecessors. Five or six armaments in succession had only the temporary result we have mentioned. He saw that unless he entirely destroyed their strongholds, cut in pieces their gods, and converted them sincerely to Christianity, no peace was to be expected from them. With these intentions, in 1169, he led another armament against the isle of Rugen, and assailed Arcona. It was situated on the northern extremity of the island, and so defended by nature and art as to be thought impregnable. To the inhabitants Christianity had been announced; but no sooner were the visitors departed, than they reverted to their idolatry, and expelled the missionaries. To their gigantic idol, Svantovit, they offered human sacrifices, and believed a Christian to be the most acceptable of all. The high-priest had unbounded power over them. He was the interpreter of the idol’s will; he was the great augur; he prophesied; nobody but him could approach the deity. The treasures laid at the idol’s feet from most parts of the Slavonic world were immense. Then there was a fine white horse, which the high-priest only could approach; and in it the spirit of the deity often resided. The animal was believed to undertake immense journeys every night, while sleep oppressed mortals. Three hundred chosen warriors formed a guard of honour to the idol; they too brought all which they took in war to the sanctuary. There was a prestige connected with the temple; it was regarded as the palladium not of the island merely, but of Slavonic freedom; and all approach to it was carefully guarded. Waldemar was not dismayed. He pushed with vigour the siege of Arcona; and was about to carry it by assault, when his two military churchmen, Absalom bishop of Roskild, and Eskil archbishop of Lund, advised him to spare the idolaters upon the following conditions: that they would deliver him their idol with all the treasure; that they would release, without ransom, all their Christian slaves; that all would embrace, and with constancy, the gospel of Christ; that the lands now belonging to their priests should be transferred to the support of Christian churches; that, whenever required, they would serve in the armies of the king; that they would pay him an annual tribute. Hostages being given for the performance of these stipulations, the invaders entered the temple, and proceeded to destroy Svantovit, under the eyes of a multitude of pagans, who expected every moment to see a dreadful miracle. The idol was so large, that they could not at once hurl it to the ground, lest it should fall on some one, and the pagans be enabled to boast of its having revenged itself. They broke it in pieces; and the wood was cut up into logs for the fires of the camp. Great was the amazement of the spectators to witness this tameness on the part of so potent a god; and they could only account for it by inferring that Christ was still more powerful. The temple was next burnt; and so were three others, all with idols. The numerous garrisons of the island were made to capitulate; the victors returned to Denmark in triumph; and missionaries were sent to instruct the inhabitants in the doctrines and duties of Christianity. At the instance of bishop Absalom, the island was annexed to the diocese of Roskild. This was a glorious and it was an enduring conquest; a fierce people were converted into harmonised subjects, and piracy lost its great support.

|1169 to 1175.|

But with this vigorous effort, piracy was not extirpated: on the contrary, the Danish coasts were themselves ravaged the following year by the Slavonians. This disaster was owing to the anger of Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony, who had sent a contingent to the corps of Valdemar. He had probably not expected the reduction of Rugen; he certainly was jealous of his ally’s success; and, to provoke a breach, he demanded half of the treasures, of the captives, of the hostages, and of the tribute stipulated to be paid. There was probably some justice in the demand; but the king refused to comply with it, and Henry, in great anger, informed the Slavonians that they might consider themselves at liberty to inflict whatever injuries they could on the Danes. How this prince had acquired so great an ascendency over these people; how they came to call themselves his vassals, is one of those problems which history cannot solve. There must have been treaties, and marriages, and conquests, which chroniclers have omitted. The fact of his ascendency is indisputable. “He was the only prince on earth,” says Helmold, “that could put a bridle into the mouth of that ferocious people, and direct it at his pleasure.” The vast restless tribes, from Courland to Mecklenburgh, wanted only this stimulus to rise; and they did rise, in numbers too formidable to be resisted. Valdemar and his ministers suffered the tide to roll on: they had the mortification to witness its ravages on their shores; but when it had spent a portion of its fury, they raised an armament, cleared their shores, passed into the Baltic, and, after some advantages, carried the war into the Vandalic territories.[^[151]] But what salutary impression could be made on a people who, at the approach of an enemy, plunged, with their substance, into the impenetrable recesses of their forests, and returned the moment that enemy retired? Jomsberg, indeed, one of the most flourishing maritime cities in Europe, was taken, and its great treasures became the prize of the victors; but the place had been taken before by Canute the Great in 1010, and Magnus the Good in 1044. No sooner was it demolished, than it began to rise from its ruins. Valdemar therefore perceived that, as he could not exterminate these numerous tribes, who often acted in a general confederation, and were always ready to descend upon his coasts, his only hope was in the friendly interference of the Saxon duke. He therefore met that sovereign, conceded all his demands, and had the satisfaction to see Henry issue his mandate, that the Danish coasts should no longer be molested. For some years they were not; but a very precarious surety was that which depended on the will of another person—a person who might, at any moment, change his policy, or whose influence might be destroyed by death.

The two prelates whose names we have mentioned, Eskil and Absalom, had great influence over the king, and over all the affairs of the realm. They were ministers of state as well as bishops, and able generals no less than ministers. Eskil had been educated at Hildesheim, one of the best schools in Germany at that period. His first preferment was a stall in the cathedral of Lund; and he rose through the gradations of the hierarchy to the see of Roskild, and lastly to the archbishopric of Lund, with the primacy of the North. The Danish kings soon found that the church had succeeded to more than the authority of the ancient pontiffs. Under the old system there was not a distinct priesthood; any chief of his clan—any at least who could trace his descent to the deified heroes of the North—could sacrifice. But now all the offices of religion were reserved to a body which, from its indissoluble unity, its vast possessions, its exclusive privileges, its favour with the pope, and its sanctity in the eyes of the people, was nearly irresistible. Eskil, while bishop of Roskild, contended with Eric Emund for the rights of his church—not with spiritual arms merely, but with the temporal sword. Being defeated, he was condemned to pay a fine of twenty pounds of gold. This hostility to the royal will did not prevent Eric’s successor from procuring his elevation to the archiepiscopal throne of Lund. In the civil wars between Eric the Lamb and Olaf the son of Harald, he adhered to his lawful sovereign, and was consequently expelled from his see; but on the restoration of the royal authority, he also was restored. In those battles between Sweyn and Canute, the predecessor of Valdemar, he for some time fought valiantly for the former; but, like Valdemar, he turned to the latter, for whom he drew the sword with equal valour. At one time he was a prisoner, but was released through the interposition of his friends, and, above all, through the sanctity of his character, which rendered him amenable only to the pope. It was soon his lot to dispute with Valdemar, on the question of the schism which divided the church. He declared for Alexander, and in so doing acted in concert with the whole Christian world, except Germany, or rather the German emperor, Frederic Barbarossa, who espoused the cause of Victor. Valdemar, influenced by the emperor, followed the same party, and so did Absalom, the friend of the king. For this adhesion Absalom was excommunicated by his metropolitan; but, aided by the king, he resisted: recourse was had to arms, to try which pope had the better right to the tiara; and the result being unfortunate to Eskil, he was compelled to retire into Sweden. At length he sued for pardon, and obtained it, on the condition of his returning into the royal hands some of the domains which the prodigality of former kings had bestowed on the church of Lund. Some time afterwards he resigned his dignity, and retired to the monastery of Clairvaux, in France. To that retirement he gave the preference, from his intimacy with St. Bernard. He had founded in Denmark five monasteries of the same order (that of St. Benedict reformed); and, notwithstanding his martial prowess, he was regarded by the inmates of Clairvaux as half a saint, especially after his pilgrimage to Jerusalem. He died in 1181.

|1175 to 1179.|

The successor of Eskil in the primacy was bishop Absalom. This churchman, a native of Zealand, and descended from one of the noblest families in Denmark, was the most warlike prelate of the age. His attachment to Roskild was such, that he at first refused the dignity, notwithstanding the earnest entreaties of the electors, and the commands of the king. He would not separate from a people with whom he had been so long acquainted; and to hold both sees was contrary to the canons. When entreaties and rewards were equally ineffectual, application was made to the pope, who commanded him, under ecclesiastical penalties, to assume the primacy, with the legatine authority, and at the same time to hold the see of Roskild. He therefore submitted, and undertook the multitude of affairs rendered necessary by so many posts—chief minister of state, general, admiral, judge, bishop, archbishop, legate: how he found time for all his duties may well surprise us. His military talents were of a high order; and his arms were not suffered to rust after his elevation. He had often assisted to subdue the Wend pirates; and against them he would now defend his flock, on the more exposed coasts of his diocese. For this purpose he caused rude huts to be erected on various parts of the coast; and leaving his palace to his clergy, he resided in one or the other of these, according to the exigencies of the occasion. Day and night he was ready to repel any attack of the pirates on his humble flock. Neither the wintry storm, nor the extreme cold, could prevent him from cruising off the coast in search of the enemy. He was even known to leave the altar when danger approached, and to wield the sword with an arm which few lay nobles could equal. Thus, he was one Palm Sunday informed that the pirates had disembarked, and were ravaging the district. Throwing aside his mitre, his crosier, and his pontifical vestments, he hastily assumed his armour, summoned his household dependents, marched to the spot, and compelled them to retire with great loss to their ships. But if he was thus martial, he was by no means inattentive to the duties of his station. He was an active bishop, and a generous patron of letters. By him Sweyn Aggesen and Saxo Grammaticus were enabled to write their respective histories. He paid great attention to the school which Eskil had founded; and, in the distribution of church patronage (and his was immense), he always gave the preference to the men, who, cæteris paribus, excelled in literature. Hence he exercised a much greater influence than his predecessor over the destinies of the kingdom. In the Thing his voice was always heard with respect; he was a stout advocate for the national independence; and his ascendency alike over the sovereign and nobles frequently enabled him to restore peace when other means of reconciliation were wanting. Nor must we omit to state, that to him the city of Copenhagen owes its origin. In 1168 it was a mere fishing village. The bishop erected a fortress on the spot as a defence against the sea-rovers, and in it placed a strong garrison. The security afforded by the place attracted many settlers to it; it rose into wealth and population, and by Valdemar was annexed to the see of Roskild, to remain dependent on an authority which had called it into existence. By the successors of Absalom it was endowed with a municipal charter, and its privileges confirmed by the crown.

|1176 to 1179.|

There was but one circumstance to diminish the popularity of Valdemar and his archbishop. The latter, a strenuous advocate of all ecclesiastical privileges, persuaded the former to enforce the collection of tithes even by the sword. The ascendency of their characters, and the services which both had rendered to the country, averted mischiefs, that would have followed had any other persons acted with equal rigour in regard to that obnoxious impost. Both thought that resistance to this impost was double guilt—rebellion and impiety,—and on this belief they acted. But they had other reasons for severity. The Scanians, who most distinguished themselves by their hostility to the impost, were also unfriendly to bishops, and still more to clerical celibacy. Nor were they satisfied with remonstrances; they flew to arms, and the archbishop was compelled to retire. But he retired only to collect an armed force; and being joined by the king, he returned to the province. As both were lenient, they tried what could be effected by negotiation. But the insurgents were impracticable: probably they believed that both were afraid of them; and they persisted in their rebellion, until they were routed with great loss. Their only resource was to throw themselves on the king’s mercy, and they were readily pardoned. Still they refused to pay the tithes; and as Valdemar dreaded greater evils, he prevailed on the archbishop to suspend the collection until the minds of his flock were more accessible to reason.

|1166 to 1177.|

Long before the death of Valdemar, the states of the kingdom, grateful for the services which he was every day rendering to his people, at the perpetual risk of his own life, declared his son Canute his successor. In 1177 the young prince was joined in the administration.