wait to collect together a great army, but set sail from England one harvest season, after Olaf Tryggveson had been dead thirteen years, with two ships of burden containing about two hundred men. Earl Eric was dead by that time, and his two sons, Svend and Hakon, had divided his possessions between them.

The first thing that happened to Olaf when he came within sight of the Norwegian coast, was that Hakon came sailing out in a single unarmed ship, as it would seem for the express purpose of falling into his hands. Seeing the strange ships (which he imagined to be foreign merchantmen) nearing the shore, Hakon carelessly pushed his vessel between Olaf's two ships, and found himself taken prisoner before he was the least aware he was in danger. His captors led him at once to Olaf, and the two rivals for the Norwegian throne looked at each other. Earl Hakon, like all the Earls of Lade from the first time they are mentioned in the sagas, was a handsome well-grown man, with long hair as fine as silk bound about his head with a gold ornament.

'One thing I perceive,' says Olaf, that the talk I have heard about your family is not exaggerated—you are handsome enough for people to look at; but now your luck has deserted you.'

"There is no luck in the matter,' said Hakon; 'your family and mine have always been successful by turns, and this time I had no fair chance of defending myself; on another occasion it may be different.'

'Does it not occur to you,' said Olaf, 'to fear from your present position that you will have no more chances of victory or defeat given you?' 'You must do as you please about that,' answered Hakon, with the quiet contempt of death that befitted a Northern jarl.

Then Olaf offered Hakon to let him go free and unhurt if he would resign all pretensions to the crown of Norway, and never do battle against him at any time. And Hakon, having indeed only death as an alternative, took the oath required, and was permitted to sail away in the ship in which so unfortunately for himself he had come out. He went to England (then as now a harbour for exiled kings) and was well received and liberally provided for by King Canute. Olaf proceeded on his way to Norway; and after having hovered about the coast for some months, and been well received at several Things held at places near the shore, he ventured to penetrate further inland, and paid a visit to the upland valley where his father King Sigurd Syr lived. His band of one hundred armed men bearing banners was spied by some of Sigurd Syr's houseservants while it was still at a distance, and they ran in haste to warn the Lady Aasta of her son's approach. She had, of course, heard long since with mingled fear and triumph of Olaf's presence in the country, and of his capture of Hakon; and now, with a heart swelling with pride, she made ready, not so much to welcome her long lost son, as to do fitting homage to the head King of Norway. In a moment, all through the wide low wood-built house in the valley, there was a buzz of active glad preparation-four girls were despatched to the carved wooden presses that

stood in the outer fortified stone house, to bring thence the embroidered curtains which on festive occasions were hung up to divide the sleepingclosets of the slaves from the great dining-hall; boys were sent in haste to cut fresh green rushes to strew the floor; slaves ran here and there to collect provisions from the farm-yards near; others galloped off on horseback to invite the principal men of the neighbourhood to attend the feast; others rolled weighty casks of ale and mead into the hall; while Aasta busied herself in taking out her husband's dress-clothes and causing his finest war-horse to be adorned with a gilt saddle and bridle set with precious stones. When all was ready, she gave these things into the charge of a trustworthy servant, desired him to seek King Sigurd Syr wherever he might be on his farm, to tell him what guest was on his road, and then to add that she Aasta had laid it very much to heart that he should, on this occasion, behave like a great man, and show a disposition more worthy of Harald Fair-hair's race than of that of his mother's ancestors, thin-nosed Rane, and Nereid the Old. Worthy Sigurd, who had certainly more of thin-nosed Rane in him than of Harald Fair-hair, was by no means particularly pleased when the servant brought him his dress-clothes and the news of all that Aasta was doing at home. He was standing in the corner of a corn-field, clad in his every-day blue kirtle and hose, with stout laced shoes on his feet, and grey felt hat on his head, furnished with a veil to keep off mosquitoes; and as the reapers were all at work and the harvesting going on briskly, he, peaceful valley-king as he was, had no mind to have business stopped for the entertainment of a parcel of men-at-arms, even though the purport of their coming should be to establish a son of his on the Norwegian throne.

'This is weighty business indeed that Aasta is in such haste to mix us up in,' he grumbled, when he had heard the messenger's tale. 'We had need to care little for life and prosperity, to be so forward to risk them as she is determined to have us. Will she lead her son through this business with as much splendour as she is carrying him into it?' Yet the good man, when he had spoken his mind, sat down in a corner of the field and changed his rough shoes for tanned leather boots, donned scarlet cloak and gilt helmet, mounted his war-horse, and by the time Olaf came up to the house, was waiting to receive him at the head of his retainers with a dignity that was not unbecoming his kingly pretensions. He did not dismount to welcome his royal step-son, but bowed courteously and invited him and his men to come and drink a cup of wine under his roof; but Aasta flew up to her son, embraced him fondly, and told him that the house and all the wealth it contained, and she herself and all hers, were at his command from that time forth.

Olaf stayed some days with his father and mother, hindering the harvest-work and eating up the winter provisions, one fears, but winning over his prudent father and many of the small district kings round to take up his cause. There does not appear to have been much patriotism among these small upland kings; they had no thought about promoting

the unity of Norway or its deliverance from a foreign yoke. Neither did they regard with favour the determination to establish Christianity throughout the land which Olaf avowed from the first. They considered it an advantage in the late time of misrule that everyone had been allowed to worship what god he liked, and behave as he pleased in the matter of religion. They seem to have inclined towards Olaf from a superstitious belief that he was the lucky man who was fated to succeed, and that ill fortune would attend all who opposed him.

From the uplands Olaf journeyed to Drontheim. The bonders of that district collected an army to oppose him at first; but when they saw that he advanced along the country peacefully without harming anyone, they consented to meet him in the Thingstead, and listen to the propositions he had to make them. Olaf, who appears to have been as ready of speech as the other members of his race who had to sue at the Drontheim Thingstead for crowns, made a favourable impression on the bonders when he stood among them and offered them, peace and the laws of Hakon the Good; and after some further negociations they agreed to receive him as their king.

There was now only Svend, the younger son of Earl Eric, to be conquered. He does not appear to have been very active in defending his rights, for he and Olaf did not meet in battle till the year after Olaf's landing in Norway. They encountered each other then in a sea-fight, the twenty-first which Olaf, who was still a young man, had fought in his life. As usual, all went well with Olaf in it, and he was completely victorious. Svend, after a long defence, was compelled to take flight, and got off with several ships and the most determined of his followers to Sweden.

After his departure, Olaf found himself undisputed head king of the land, and set himself in good earnest to the work of restoring order, bringing the petty kings into subjection to the laws, and repairing the damage which long years of misrule had done to the prosperity of the country. Kings in those days had no idle times of it. Would you like, just by way of example, to know how Olaf the Saint spent his days after he was securely settled on the throne? He rose betimes in the morning, dressed, washed, and went, attended by all his household, to early Service in the Church. After Service he repaired to the Thing-meeting, where any one of his subjects, rich or poor, wise or simple, who had a favour to ask or a grievance to be redressed, might come and speak to him; and where all matters, of dispute regarding trade, or rights of property, or udal privileges, and even personal quarrels, were brought to be argued before him, and decided by his judgment. He was generally detained at the Thing-meeting (still fasting, you observe,) till the Church bells sounded for High Mass, to which he went from the meeting. After Mass came dinner, (the first meal of the day,) over which he lingered some time, conversing pleasantly with the guests, (travellers generally from all parts of the world,) who every day thronged the hall. In the afternoon

there were more consultations held in the palace, for Olaf was fond of gathering round him the wisest men of the country, and making them converse with him on the laws and customs which Hakon the Good had established throughout the country; or, when he was in doubt on any matter of Church discipline or Christian privilege, he listened to the advice of good Bishop Grimkel and other learned priests whom he had invited to his court to aid him in his great work of Christianising his country. Vespers followed on the afternoon conferences; and after Vespers came supper-the most important and pleasantest meal of the day-from which, according to Northern customs, the guest did not disperse til bed-time. When they had eaten as much as they liked, they sat over the mead-cup, or (the saga describes this) on very cold evenings they gathered in a semi-circle round the fire, crouching down among the straw, with which the floor was strewn for warmth. The king sat in the middle of the semi-circle opposite the fire, and summoned the two of his courtiers or guests who were in the greatest favour at the moment to lie down on each side of him. This was a coveted honour, and the favoured ones took advantage of their position to lean over and whisper comments on their companions, not usually complimentary ones, in the king's ear. So they sat, talking, singing little songs, telling long stories of their adventures, boasting a good deal, quarreling, and jeering each other like rough school-boys sometimes, till far into the night; then the king and the regular inhabitants of the palace retired to their closet-like bed-rooms, and the travellers and guests from a distance, when accommodation could not be found for them all, rolled themselves up in their seal-skin or wolf-skin cloaks, and slept contentedly on the floor.

These were the quiet stay-at-home days; but St. Olaf's life was not by any means made up of such. Fighting days and travelling days and sailing days and days of anxiety and peril in abundance came in between. Like his cousin Olaf Tryggveson, St. Olaf set before him as the great object of his life to establish Christianity and root out heathenism throughout Norway. We have to regret the means he used to bring about this right end, as we regretted those of the other Olaf, and to take in consideration the same excuses we made for him. I find it more difficult to excuse St. Olaf's cruelties, however; for I think he had more opportunity than his cousin of learning what was right; and it seems almost certain that the learned priests and good bishops, of whose company he was so fond, must often have remonstrated with him on his conduct.

The sagas tell us that he was a good and a very gentle man, of bitter speech, but open-handed with his money; but they also show us by stray, hints and glimpses here and there, that he had contrived to make even his dearest friends and most esteemed advisers very much afraid of contradicting him, and that he had a way of brooding long and silently over anything that gave him offence. Yet we can hardly say that he had a vindictive temper, for he was more disposed to overlook personal attacks

than to pardon opposition to the plans he considered good for his country. He put out the eyes of an unfortunate little upland king, because he plotted with some others to re-establish Odin worship in his district; and afterwards when this same king, whom Olaf kept in his house and treated with a certain sort of consideration, attempted to stab him on Sunday while they were standing together at Church, he pardoned him, gave him his liberty, and sent him over to Iceland to be well entertained by a rich bonder there.

There are so many stories about Olaf's journeys up and down the country to preach Christianity at the Thingsteads, that I hardly know which to choose to tell you. He used to ride about from place to place followed by his band, singing Psalms in a loud voice as he went. The tradition of the country declares that the old heathen powers, evil spirits of the air, familiar genii hidden in woods and waters and lonely mountain glens, were vanquished and driven back by the holy words of the royal singer as effectually as the bonders assembled at the Thingsteads were convinced by his reasoning, or overawed at sight of his armed forces. Sometimes the earthly and sometimes the spiritual powers took courage and banded themselves to oppose Olaf's progress; now it was a whole army of little Trolls exasperated by the constant ringing of church bells, which since Olaf had built churches everywhere, rendered the country almost uninhabitable to them; now it was a misty Jotun, or a Giantess, who reared up their mysterious forms in his path as he rode; and at another time it was a flesh and blood army, headed by five upland kings, that he had to do battle with. The Trolls and Giantesses were the most easy to manage. The sign of the cross, or even sometimes a line or two of poetry which St. Olaf had the wit to invent on the spur of the moment, generally seems to have sufficed either to turn them into stone, (the stones into which they were turned are still shown to the traveller in all parts of Norway,) or, what was better still, to oblige them to use their uncanny strength for the completion of the Church or other holy edifice that had roused their anger.

Olaf's human foes, though he vanquished them over and over again in fair fight and by clever stratagem of war, were never so completely disposed of.

Gudbrand, an aged district king in the uplands, gave St. Olaf a great deal of trouble at one time, of which I shall tell soon. When news was first brought to Gudbrand that Olaf in his progress through the country was likely to penetrate into the distant valley over which he ruled, and preach the new religion in his district, he was in a great state of agitation. Does the king indeed say that he knows a more powerful God than ours?' he asked. 'It is wonderful that the mighty Thor lets him say such things; it is wonderful that the earth does not burst asunder under him while he speaks the impious words.'

To spare his people the scandal of hearing the new doctrine recommended to them in the Thingstead, Gudbrand sent out an army of seven

VOL. 2.

2

PART 7.