Chapter 20
Harald Bluetooth
“…Harald who conquered for himself the whole of Denmark and Norway and made the Danes Christian.”
- Inscription on the Jelling Stone
Medieval Denmark was considerably larger than its modern incarnation. Extending across parts of Germany, Sweden, and Norway, it had the densest population and was by far the most powerful of the Scandinavian kingdoms. Much of its strength was due to a remarkable tenth century family that ruled from their stronghold of Jelling on the eastern side of the Danish peninsula.
The family patriarch was Gorm the Old who started life as a typical Viking sea-king but managed to kill off or neutralize the surrounding petty rulers to unite most of the Jutland peninsula under his control.167 He was a Viking of the old type, a raucous worshiper of Odin, Thor, and Frey who claimed descent from Ragnar Lothbrok and spent each summer raiding.
Gorm was generally suspicious of Christians, probably because of the powerful German kingdom directly to his south, and was said to go out of his way to be cruel to them. He had good reasons to be worried. Thanks to the missionary activity inspired by the Frankish emperor, Louis the Pious, a century before, there was a small Christian community in the Jutland peninsula, and they would make a splendid pretext for the German king Henry the Fowler to intervene in Danish affairs.
Whether Henry used that excuse or another one is unclear, but early in Gorm’s reign a German army was sent over the Danevirke and Gorm was forced to recognize his southern neighbor as an overlord. This hardly checked the king’s raiding activities, although he does seem to have generally avoided German lands. His companion in most of these raids was his oldest son Canute, who was as vigorous a plunderer as he, and the two of them ransacked the coasts of northern France and the British Isles. Gorm’s younger son, Harald Bluetooth, stayed with his mother Thyra, a formidable woman who had led the Danish army against the invading Germans.168 She had a better reputation among Christians than her husband, and although pagan, may have exposed her son to at least a form of the new faith.
The last years of Gorm’s life were not happy ones. His wife died before he did, and the grieving king raised a great stone in her honor, with deeply carved runes that called her ‘the ornament of Denmark’.169 His own end was clouded by treason. As he aged, Gorm began to fear for his favorite son’s life. He vowed to kill anyone who threatened Canute’s life – or even informed the king of his death. When word reached the court that Canute had actually been killed while attempting to take Dublin, there was an understandable reluctance to go tell the king. Finally, Thyra thought of an ingenious solution.170 While Gorm was away, she had the throne room hung in black for mourning. When the king returned, he realized immediately what had happened and cried out ‘My son is dead!‘ Since he had blurted it out himself, there were no executions, but death was still given its due. Two days later Gorm was dead of a broken heart.
That at least is the legend, but there are some hints that foul play may have been involved. Canute had been shot in the back by an arrow while he was watching some games, hardly a likely death for a Viking. The two brothers had been together when it happened, and there were many who whispered that Canute’s blood stained Harald’s hands.
Tenth century Scandinavia was a violent place, however, and such unpleasantries could easily be forgiven if the new king provided effective leadership. The first thing that needed to be done was to take care of Gorm’s corpse. Harald gave it a magnificent funeral, raising a huge mound of rough stones over his father’s body. In the center was an ornate wooden chamber filled with the valuables of Denmark’s first true king. He then raised a second rune stone with an inscription informing posterity that he had made it to honor his parents.
Having taken care of his predecessor’s remains, Harald Bluetooth could now turn to the business of stamping his own authority over the kingdom. He did so in a way that thoroughly eclipsed his father. If Gorm the Old created the kingdom of Denmark, it was his son, Harald Bluetooth, that created the Danish nation. He joined together the disparate tribes of the Jutland peninsula into a single people, joining them temporarily with parts of southern Norway and Sweden.
Harald Bluetooth needed a unifying idea to tie his people together, something larger than just a shared king or common laws. He found it in Christianity, and in 965 he officially converted. Much deliberation seems to have gone into his decision – the contemporary Saxon historian Widikund describes Bluetooth as a man who was ‘eager to listen but late to speak.’
The chronicler goes on to describe the colorful argument that led to Harald Bluetooth’s conversion. As expected, the abandonment of the old gods was hotly debated, culminating in a furious exchange between several members of the court and a German missionary named Poppo. The Danish nobility was willing to admit that Christ was a god, but held that he was not nearly as powerful as Thor or Odin. Poppo retorted that the latter two were in fact nothing but trolls and that Christ was the only God. Throughout the exchange Harald Bluetooth had remained quiet, but now as swords were being drawn, he broke in, wondering aloud if Poppo was willing to back up his claims with a test.
The cleric unhesitatingly agreed. A bar of iron was heated in a fire until it was glowing red, and the king commanded the monk to grab it with his bare hand. Poppo, declaring his faith in the power of his God, reached into the coals and seized it, holding it up before the assembled court until Harald begged him to put it down. He did so calmly, showing the various notables his undamaged hand. The impressed king converted on the spot.
Another compelling reason for baptism was just south of Harald Bluetooth’s borders. Henry the Fowler’s son, Otto I, had traveled to Rome and been crowned emperor of a new ‘Roman Empire’. In addition to his German lands he owned northern Italy, the Low Countries, parts of France, and much of central Europe. He was still relatively young, and was well on the way to earning his epithet ‘the Great’.171 Such a man would always be looking to expand his territory, and there was every reason to believe that Denmark would be the next course on the imperial plate. Bringing the gospel to the heathen Danes was precisely what a conscientious emperor should be doing.
By accepting baptism, Harald Bluetooth deftly took away the major pretext for invasion. Christian monarchs did not go to war with each other – at least not with the blessing of the pope – and Harald made sure that everyone knew that he and his dynasty were Christian. At his capital of Jelling, where the great pagan burial mounds were, he built a wooden church and exhumed his father’s body. Gorm’s bones were carefully wrapped in a rich cloth woven with threads of gold and transferred to the crypt of the new church.
On the stone he raised to commemorate his father, he carved a figure of Christ emerging from the twisting thorns and the snake’s coils of the pagan religion.172 The image encapsulates Harald Bluetooth’s vision for his reign. This was to be a new era for Denmark, liberated from the clutter of the past, led by the faith of the future and a glorious new dynasty.
Top down conversions are never really quick; the old religion lingered on for decades, but Harald’s adoption of Christianity marked a turning point for Denmark and all of Scandinavia.173 Unlike Håkon the Good in Norway, Harald Bluetooth’s conversion stuck, and he succeeded in overcoming much of the pagan resistance.
Perhaps he was able to do this because of his frequent demonstrations of raw power. The rest of his reign was spent churning out massive public works that overawed potential usurpers. The ancient Hævejen –’army road‘ – which followed the watershed of the Jutland peninsula and led down to the markets of Hamburg was bisected by the Vejle Fjord, roughly six miles south of Jelling. To allow his armies to cross, Harald Bluetooth built a great bridge over the river and marshy ground. Its scale was mind-boggling. Over half a mile long, and more than twenty feet wide, it could support a weight of nearly six tons. More than a thousand huge posts – for which whole oak forests had to be cut down to provide the timber – were driven into the ground to provide support
Just attempting such a structure was a statement of raw power. Even the densest woods would rot quickly in the marshy ground, and the entire thing would need to be rebuilt. This was not made to last the ages or be a permanent legacy. It was a message of strength for the here and now. No one else in Denmark – in the past or in Harald’s time – could have made such a thing, or done it so lightly.
Harald Bluetooth’s rise was noticed by the surrounding states. When Rollo’s grandson, Duke Richard the Fearless was temporarily driven from Normandy in the middle of the tenth century, he appealed to Harald for help. Harald not only helped him recover his territory, but repeated his aid two decades later when one of Richard’s neighbors invaded Normandy.
The most profitable request for aid, however, came from Norway. Years before, Bluetooth had married off his sister to Erik Bloodaxe, and when the latter had been overthrown, his son Harald Greycloak had come to Denmark to request aid. Bluetooth cannily gave his nephew some troops in exchange for an oath of loyalty. In 961, after the hard work of usurpation had been accomplished, he traveled to Norway and forced the reluctant Greycloak to recognize him as a superior.
His nephew turned out to be a more effective king than Harald Bluetooth had realized or wanted. By seizing control of the eastern coastal trade routes, Greycloak extended his power into modern Finland and Russia, lessening his dependence on his uncle. Such a situation could obviously not be tolerated, so in 970, Harald Bluetooth had his ambitious nephew assassinated, and took control of western Norway, appointing a more pliant vassal to manage things while he was in Denmark.
Harald Bluetooth’s triumph in the north was the high water mark of his reign. There were rumblings of danger from the south, where the aging Otto the Great had noticed the growing threat, but he died in 973 and the threat passed. Unfortunately, it was Harald Bluetooth himself who undermined his own reign. For years he had carefully appeased his southern neighbor by sending tribute to Germany, but the combination of Otto’s death and the victory in Norway seem to have gone to his head. When ambassadors from the youthful Otto II arrived asking for the customary payment, he refused outright.
Harald Bluetooth had badly misjudged his man. The German emperor had resources far beyond Harald’s young kingdom, and a more disciplined and cohesive army. Although the first battles went well for the Vikings, the imperial army pushed them back to the Danevirke and Bluetooth was forced to sue for peace.
The loss should not have been particularly crushing since Harald had kept the empire out of Denmark, but he had demonstrated the cardinal sin of the Viking world – weakness. The Norwegian king, a fervent supporter of Thor who resented both Harald’s religion and political control, rebelled, and Norway slipped out of Danish control.
Everything seemed to crumble at once. Harald managed to keep his hold on Denmark, but just as he was preparing to push south against the Germans, his oldest son, Svein Forkbeard, who had been chafing under his father’s authority, rebelled. Caught by surprise, the king fled to his stronghold at Jomsborg on the southern coast of the Baltic Sea.
He could not have chosen a better sanctuary. The Jomsvikings were Scandinavia’s most famous company of warriors. They were a fiercely loyal group between the ages of eighteen and fifty, handpicked for their bravery.174 They took strong oaths to live by a unique code of honor, and although staunchly pagan, would faithfully serve whoever paid them. Their fortress, situated on a harbor with easy access to the sea, was virtually impregnable.
Harald Bluetooth was safe behind Jomsborg’s walls, but he didn’t get the chance to use it as a rallying point. In a skirmish outside the gates he was wounded, and died a few days later. The body was taken back to Jelling and interred in his church. He had written his own epitaph long before when he had raised the great Jelling stone during his years of triumph. Like many things he did, the carving – ostensibly to show filial devotion – was in reality a canvas to proclaim his own greatness. “This stone“, he wrote, “was raised by the Harald who conquered for himself the whole of Denmark and Norway and made the Danes Christian.”
Both claims are highly dubious. Norway was only partially held – and rather tenuously at that – and the old gods had hardly loosened their grip on Danish hearts, but it shows how Harald Bluetooth wanted to be remembered. Conquest and conversion, the two ways he built the nation of Denmark were copied by his contemporaries in Sweden and Norway. As Harald Bluetooth lay dying, a Swedish minor king named Eric the Victorious was already consolidating the land around what is present day Stockholm. He and his son and successor, Olof Skötkonung, were accepted by the various sub-rulers as the first Swedish kings, and they duplicated the Danish model by converting to Christianity and using it to unite the main tribes.175
Ironically, the success of Harald Bluetooth and people like him was evidence that the Viking Age was beginning to wane. The days of untethered sea-wolves roaming the waves were gone, and much of the old energy in Scandinavia was dissipating as well. The summers were just as likely to see royal tax collectors arriving as footloose young men slipping their longboats into the fjords. The three Viking kingdoms were joining the rest of Europe, slowly congealing into centralized monarchies. There were still wild parts – Norway in particular had not accepted either Christianity or the concept of autocratic kings – but the sun was nevertheless setting.