The History of Denmark, Sweden and Norway. S. A. Dunham

either associated in the government with that king, or to have ruled as his deputy. In 941, however, on the death of Gorm, he was the undisputed heir of the monarchy. The early part of his reign was most brilliant; the latter disastrous. Soon after his accession, his aid was implored by his countrymen in Normandy. Most readers are aware that, in the latter half of the preceding century, Rollo, assisted by perpetual reinforcements from the north, had wrested that province from the kings of France, and, in 912, on his baptism, had been declared the lawful duke of his new conquest. In 927, the veteran warrior, exhausted by age and fatigue, had resigned the dignity to his son William Longsword. In 943, this duke was assassinated, and his son Richard, a child, was left exposed to the hostilities of Louis d’Outremer, who naturally wished to recover that fine province, and confide the government to a French, not to a Norman, vassal. Louis led an army into Normandy, defeated the troops which the regency opposed to him, and obtained possession of the young duke’s person. In this emergency the Normans applied for aid to Harald, whose warlike actions were well known to them. In 944, that is, in a year after duke William’s assassination, the Danish king appeared off Cherburg, with a considerable armament. Alarmed at the danger, Louis had recourse to negotiation; and at the personal interview which followed, the dispute would, in all probability, have been amicably arranged, had not some chiefs of both armies begun to quarrel. This quarrel led to a general engagement, in which Louis was vanquished, and made prisoner. To obtain his liberty, he was compelled to release the young duke, whose right to the fief he also recognised. This was a proud day for Harald, who returned to Denmark with a reputation unrivalled in the north. His next exploit was similar—to place on the throne of Norway (now a monarchy) the sons of Eric, whom Hako, the reigning king, had driven into exile. His arms were successful; and he restored to Harald Grafeld the sceptre of the father. Twelve years afterwards, this prince being assassinated (an event of very usual occurrence in the history of the north), the Danish king went a second time into Norway, subdued the country, and divided it into three kingdoms. One portion he confided, under the ordinary feudal obligations, to Harald Grenshi, a prince of the family; a second, subject to the same homage and service, was bestowed on jarl Hako; the third, which was the lion’s share, was reserved to the Danish crown; and from all a large annual tribute was exacted. This policy was injurious enough to Norway, however useful it might be to Denmark. And it was scarcely less hurtful to England, since it augmented the power of the Danish kings, so as to render them formidable enemies to this island. In his next expedition, which was against no less a personage than the emperor Otho I., he was less happy. Embracing the cause of a rebel whom Otho had placed under the ban of the empire, and learning that the monarch was absent in Italy, he made a fierce irruption into Saxony, and, we are told, put to death the ambassadors of Otho. He had little difficulty in driving the imperial garrison from Sleswic, and in destroying that important fortress. On the return of Otho, however, who lost no time in avenging the indignity offered to the empire, Holstein was speedily overrun, and he driven into the north of Jutland. He was compelled to treat with the victor; and his states were left him on the condition of his baptism, and that of his son Sweyn, and of helping, instead of impeding, the progress of Christianity in his dominions. That on this occasion he did homage for them to the emperor, is asserted by the German, and denied by most native, historians. The subject may occupy our attention for a few moments.^[96]

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      That Harald did homage to Otho for the whole of Denmark—that country being subdued and rendered tributary by the latter—is expressly asserted by Sweyn Aggesen, a Danish writer of the twelfth century.^[97] It is equally affirmed by Adam of Bremen, who wrote within half a century of Harald’s death, and who is better acquainted with the transactions of Holstein and Jutland than all the writers of his age.^[98] And it is inferred, from a privilege granted by Otho to the church of Hamburg, exempting the lands of three bishoprics just created in Denmark—Aarhuus, Sleswic, Rypen—from all contributions to the state, from all dependence on the secular government; and extending the same privilege to all the lands which those churches might hereafter possess throughout Denmark. To weaken the effect of these testimonies has been the object of native writers. But what are their reasons? Too feeble to have any weight out of Denmark. They insist that Sweyn was misled by the authority of Adam of Bremen; that Adam, himself, was an ignorant ecclesiastic, who readily assented to whatever Otho assumed; and that the privilege in question, of which the authenticity cannot be denied, is of no weight—a pure formula of the imperial chancellor, dictated, indeed, by an ambitious, all-grasping court, but founded on no real conquest, much less vassalage. To answer such objections would be an insult to the reader’s understanding. There can be no doubt of the emperor’s feudal supremacy over Denmark, any more than over Bohemia, or Poland, or Lombardy. It has, indeed, been contended that if Otho had a spiritual, he had no temporal jurisdiction; that he might be the protector, the superintendent, the head of the rising church, without having the least authority over the state. But this allegation is at variance with all reason and with all history. Would a sovereign have the insane effrontery to say what lands shall, and what shall not, pay taxes, unless he had some authority over them? Would he exempt them from contributing towards the support of the crown, unless that crown were in some degree dependent on him? And where is there any example of such unlicensed interference? But we all know that vassalitic obligations were of various kinds, some oppressive enough, others little more than nominal; and we may admit that though Harald was compelled to do homage, and even to pay a yearly tribute, he remained independent so far as his internal administration was concerned. It was the policy of Otho to christianise the kingdom—to transform restless barbarians into civilised creatures—to humanise the fiercest of pagans by the influence of a mild and powerful religion. Without such a change, he saw no security for his northern frontier. But in striving to attain this object, great moderation was necessary: he did not wish to exasperate, where his interest was so obviously to induce the most friendly relations; still less would he, by severe exactions—exactions, however, which his position as conqueror might have enabled him to enforce—indispose the minds of a high-spirited prince and a warlike people, against the faith which he wished them to embrace.^[99]

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      But miracles were no longer wrought in the time of the Othos. If Harald and some of his people outwardly conformed to the religion of Christ, they were still influenced by that of Odin. Besides, to both the national independence was dear; and we cannot be surprised at the hostile feeling with which the Danes regarded the Germans. During the life of the first Otho, indeed, there was outward harmony; but in about a year after the accession of the second (974), he joined the party of Henry duke of Bavaria, then a rebel, and made several irruptions into Saxony. On the defeat of that powerful vassal, Otho penetrated into Jutland, and advanced as far as the Sound which bears his name. With the result of this war we are not acquainted; but probably Harald submitted. The events, however, of both wars, which have been frequently confounded into one, are very doubtful. A more certain fact is, that the good fortune of Harald now forsook him. He failed in an expedition against Norway, which had thrown off its vassalage. Nor was this the worst: his son Sweyn, who had been baptized with him, rebelled against him. The motives which led the prince in this undutiful conduct are unknown. Probably the chief was the desire of power; and as his nature was ferocious, he scrupled not to bear arms against his father. There is also some reason to believe that he was the instrument of a great party—the old pagans, who could not behold with much pleasure the gradual progress of the new faith, and the consequent decline of their own. His conversion was not, like his father’s, very sincere; or, perhaps, he cared not for either religion, so that his ambition was gratified. As the pagans were still the more numerous subjects of the state, he became at once their patron and their tool. The war was short, and Harald was compelled to flee. He sought a refuge in Normandy, and by duke Richard, we are told, was restored to at least a portion of his dominions. How far this relation is true, we cannot, in the absence of contemporary authority, decide. A more certain fact is, that, in 991, he was assassinated by the procurement of his own son. He was walking on the skirts of a wood, when an arrow from the bow of a Jomsberg pirate belonging to a band in the pay of Sweyn, laid him in the dust.^[100]

      Such was the fate of a monarch whose memory was dear to the early Christians of Denmark. He was the first monarch that openly professed the new religion; and the constancy with which he adhered to it affords indisputable proof of his sincerity. From Ledra, the