Tales About The Childhood Of King Harald Hardrada

Harald Sigurdsson was the half-brother of King Olaf II of Norway (r. 1015-1028). The half-brothers shared the same mother, Ásta, and she curiously gave birth to Harald around 1015, the same year that his half-brother, Olaf, launched his successful bid to claim the throne of Norway. Very little, unfortunately, is known about Harald’s early life—the Icelandic historian, Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241), a major source for information on Harald, bemoaned that “We have no particular accounts about his youth until the age of fifteen, when he took part in the Battle of Stiklestad with his brother, King Olaf the Saint” (Heimskringla, King Harald’s Saga, chapter 99). Despite that statement, he did his best to find tales about Harald’s youth. Likely aided by his trips to Norway in 1218 and 1237, Snorri Sturluson uncovered three folkloric stories about the childhood of Harald Sigurdsson. As all three tales involved young Harald interacting with his reigning half-brother, King Olaf II, Snorri Sturluson filed the stories away inside his Saint Olaf’s Saga instead of the saga he wrote specifically about Harald.

All three of the stories about Harald Sigurdsson’s childhood were set around 1017, when he was three years old. To set the scene, King Olaf II had just crushed a conspiracy, toppling five minor kings in Norway during the process. After succeeding in his counter-intrigue, King Olaf II attended a feast prepared by his mother, Ásta. The feast proved to be a family reunion, as Olaf’s half-siblings were all present. Ásta, after remarrying following the death of Olaf’s father, had two daughters (Gunnhild and Ingrid), and three sons (Guthorm, Hálfdan and Harald). At the time of this feast, King Olaf did not yet have any known children, and, consequently, he was keeping an appraising eye on his half-brothers during the time they spent together, assessing which of them might be a worthy heir.

King Olaf II, for his first test, reportedly decided to see how his male siblings would react if he scared them. Acting like a typical older brother, King Olaf II found a good place to set an ambush for his unsuspecting siblings and waited for one of the boys to fall into his trap. When Guthorm and Hálfdan were caught by the king, all it took was for Olaf to stare at them with his fiercest, angriest countenance to make the two boys whimper and cry. When three-year-old Harald similarly found himself face to face with Olaf’s ferocious stare and scowl, he acted much differently than his older brothers. Under pressure from the king’s mightiest expression, the boy did not flinch, or squirm, or whimper. Instead, Harald stared right back at Olaf without showing any fear. Impressed (or frustrated), Olaf went a further step and tugged on a lock of Harald’s hair. Young Harald, however, did not take this lightly; he went on the counter-attack against Olaf. According to Snorri Sturluson, “The boy grabbed the king’s mustache and twitched it. Then the king said, ‘You are likely to be vindictive when you grow up, kinsman’” (Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, chapter 76).

After the scare campaign, King Olaf II decided to conduct the rest of his appraisals in a less obtrusive way. The next trial for the boys occurred a few days later, when Olaf found his young half-brothers playing by a pond. Guthorm and Hálfdan, at one end of the pond, had used materials scattered around the yard to build themselves makeshift farmhouses and animal sheds. Within this miniature play-village, Guthorm and Hálfdan pretended to be farmers. Leaving those two to their play, King Olaf II found three-year-old Harald at another end of the pond. Instead of pretending to be a farmer, young Harald was amusing himself by placing small chips of wood afloat on the water of the pond. After watching Harald set many of these woodchips out to sea (or pond), Olaf finally asked the boy what he was doing. According to Snorri Sturluson, “He replied they were his warships. Then the king laughed and said, ‘It may well be, kinsman, that the time will come when you will be in command of ships’” (Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, chapter 76).

Snorri Sturluson’s third tale about Harald Sigurdsson’s childhood occurred in a similar setting as the story laid out above. One day, reportedly still in 1017, Olaf II called together his three young half-brothers, Guthorm, Hálfdan and Harald. For his final test, the king simply asked the boys, “What would you most like to have?” Guthorm answered first, exclaiming that he wanted ten farms with fertile lands that would grow grain every summer. Halfdán agreed with his brother’s wish, but, instead of fields of grain, he wanted his ten farmlands to be filled with cows. Finally, it was young Harald’s turn to speak. After giving the question some thought, the boy proclaimed that he wanted loyal warriors. According to Snorri Sturluson, when Olaf asked how many warriors Harald wanted to lead, the boy answered, “So many that they would eat up all of my brother Hálfdan’s cows at a single meal” (Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, chapter 76). As the story goes, King Olaf was extremely pleased with Harald’s response. He made a note of it and the next time he saw Ásta, he referenced Harald and told her, “In him you are likely to bring up a king, mother’” (Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, chapter 76).

Despite these few interactions between King Olaf II and his young, promising half-brother in 1017, the rest of Harald Sigurdsson’s childhood remains incredibly obscure. Perhaps, this is because King Olaf II later had a son named Magnus in 1024, who became the assumed heir of Norway. Whatever the case, Canute the Great of England and Denmark would expel King Olaf II from Norway in 1028. Yet, King Olaf II returned to Norway in 1030, campaigning to regain his throne. It was at that time that Harald Sigurdsson finally reappeared, as a tall and strong fifteen-year-old warrior who joined the army of King Olaf II. According to Snorri Sturluson, King Olaf II was unsure if his teenage half-brother should fight in the upcoming famous Battle of Stiklestad, but Harald reassured him by saying, “By all means I shall take part in it, and if I am so weak as not to be able to wield a sword, then I know what to do: let my hand be tied to the haft” (Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, chapter 209). During that fateful battle in 1030, King Olaf II was slain and Harald wounded.

After Stiklestad, Harald Sigurdsson fled to the Rus and then to Constantinople. Back in Norway, Magnus Olafsson, Harald’s nephew and son of Olaf II, regained the throne of Norway in 1035. Meanwhile, Harald Sigurdsson became an accomplished mercenary and member of Constantinople’s Varangian Guard. Fighting battles throughout the Mediterranean, Harald gained renown as a warrior and amassed an unimaginable treasure, which he hid from his Byzantine employers. With his armed followers and his great haul of plundered loot, Harald Sigurdsson returned to Norway in 1045, where he negotiated a deal with his nephew, Magnus, in which he reportedly bought half of Norway in exchange for half of his treasure. As Olaf had predicted, Harald became a king (King Harald III of Norway), and gained such epithets as “the Ruthless” or “the Hard Ruler.” 

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (19th-century Image from page 39 of "Art and artists of our time" (1888), depicting Frithiof and Ingeborg, [Public Domain] via flickr.com and Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.
• King Harald’s Saga, by Snorri Sturluson, translated by Magnus Mangusson and Hermann Pálsson. New York: Penguin Books, 1966, 2005. 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Harald-III-Sigurdsson 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Olaf-II-Haraldsson  
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Magnus-I-Olafsson  

The Vengeful Tale Of Hrafsi Ljotolfsson

Hrafsi Ljotolfsson lived in Iceland around the time of the Age of Settlement (approximately 860-930). His father, the blacksmith Ljotolf, had been given permission to settle on lands belonging to Kjallak, a powerful figure who claimed as his domain everything in Iceland between what was then called the Dogurdar River and Klofningar. Under uncertain terms, Ljotolf and his family settled down in a place called Fellswood.

Kjallak had at least eight sons, of which Eilif the Proud, Asbjorn Muscle, Bjorn Whale-Belly and Thorgrim Tangle-Weed are the most important for this story. It should also be noted that Thorgrim Tangle-Weed and Bjorn Whale-Belly both had children, the former a daughter named Alof and the later a son named Kjallak the Younger. Additionally, the younger Kjallak had a foster-brother named Oddmar, whom the Kjallakssons treated as one of their own. All of these people would play a role in the life of Hrafsi Ljotolfsson.

Ljotolf fathered far fewer children than Kjallak. The blacksmith had with him in Fellswood three sons—Thorstein, Bjorn and the aforementioned Hrafsi. The mothers of these brothers were not recorded, but Hrafsi’s mother was said to have been someone different than the woman who birthed Thorstein and Bjorn. Hrafsi apparently looked physically different than his brothers, and the talk of the town was that his mother had been a giant.

Kjallak’s clan and the smaller family of Ljotolf were able to coexist in peace for a time, but everything was about to change when Kjallak’s granddaughter, Alof Thorgrimsdottir, suddenly fell ill. Without any signs of warning, Alof became delirious or insane and the 10th-century Icelanders could make no sense of her unexpected mental breakdown. In the end, Thorgrim Tangle-Weed (Alof’s father) became convinced that his daughter had been cursed. This theory was supported by other members of the Kjallak clan and they soon pointed the finger at Hrafsi Ljotolfsson, who, after all, was said to have been the son of an otherworldly giant.

Hrafsi responded quickly to the allegations. He rejected the claims and proposed his own suspect—Oddmar, the foster-brother of Kjallak the Younger, who had apparently been with Alof when she fell ill. This accusation obviously soured the relationship between Hrafsi and Oddmar, but the scheme worked and Hrafsi caused enough doubt to be found not guilty of Alof’s madness. Consequently, Thorgrim Tangle-Weed must have felt socially or emotionally obligated to give Hrafsi some sort of apologetic gift for the wrongful accusation. Thorgrim offered him an island called Deildar Isle, yet the stubborn Hrafsi wanted money in addition to the island. While this was being negotiated, Thorgrim’s father, Kjallak, stepped in and forbid Hrafsi from receiving either the money or the island.

Outraged at this outcome, Hrafsi Ljotolfsson then escalated the already mounting tensions by reportedly stealing money from the Kjallak clan and then pointedly sailed with the plunder to Deildar Isle. Eilif the Proud, the mightiest of the Kjallakssons, went to the island presumably to retrieve the stolen wealth, but he was forced to flee after being hit by a non-fatal arrow. Despite the theft and archery, relations between the two sides seemingly calmed for a while. The families, thankfully, became cordial enough for Bjorn Whale-Belly and Bjorn Ljotolfsson to even compete in friendly games together. Yet, when Whale-Belly accidentally killed his opponent during one such game, the feud was destined to continue on its bloody course.

In response to his son’s death, Ljotolf mobilized his remaining sons and friends, preparing them for war. They convinced or tricked Oddmar to send Bjorn Whale-Belly into an ambush. Bjorn’s son, Kjallak the Younger, accompanied his father on the ill-fated trip. Despite the unexpected presence of the innocent son, Ljotolf launched his ambush and killed Bjorn Whale-Belly, likely doing the same to Kjallak the Younger. With the killings complete, Ljotolf and his sons went into hiding.

When the Kjallak clan learned of the deaths, they wanted blood—equal or more than that which Ljotolf and his kin had spilled. Eilif the Proud, who had by now recovered from his wound, led the war party into Fellswood and they scoured the region for their hated foes. Ljotolf and his son, Thorstein, were eventually found hiding together in a cave. Eilif reportedly slew them both single-handedly.

Hrafsi Ljotolfsson, now the last member of his family, was in no way ready to admit defeat. He reportedly infiltrated deep into the territory of his rivals, arriving at Orrastead, where Asbjorn Kjallaksson was hosting a feast for his father and other family members. In a likely-embellished feat, Hrafsi reportedly disguised himself as a woman, snuck into the hall while the revelry was in full swing, and audaciously murdered Asbjorn in sight of all the banqueters. To top off the deed, Hrafsi reportedly jumped out a window or smashed through a wall to make his escape.

The Kjallak clan was obviously going to take revenge, but they decided to take their time plotting the downfall of the giant-spawn, and therefore delayed their payback until the right moment. They eventually won over to their side a certain Thord Vifilsson, who had, until then, been a family friend of Hrafsi. Thord successfully hid his defection from Hrafsi and managed to lure the last Ljotolfsson to a vulnerable cliffside, where the Kjallak clan had set up an ambush. Unfortunately for Thord, the Kjallakssons launched their attack before their accomplice could flee the scene. Hrafsi, realizing that he had been betrayed, reportedly pushed Thord Vifilsson off the cliff in a rage before turning to face the ambushers. Eilif the Proud was present at the fight, but, for whatever reason, chose not to participate in the attack. Instead, he watched as his brothers and friends, in a tight shield-wall formation, advanced against the formidable Hrafsi. The ultimate fate of Hrafsi Ljotolfsson remains vague—the Book of Settlements, the source for this story, abruptly ends with “They couldn’t get at him until they’d crowded round him with boards. Eilif sat by idle when they attacked Hrafsi” (Landnámabók, Sturlubók manuscript, chapter 111). As a supposed son of a giant, and a man who could reportedly break through walls, it is possible that Hrafsi escaped, but the odds of that are silm, and he never made a reappearance in the often-overlapping stories of the Book of Settlements.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Scene of Egil Skallagrimsson, by Johannes Flintoe (d. 1870), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.

Irish Hermit Monks Were Said To Have Inhabited Iceland Before Scandinavian Settlers

Several Irish Christian anchorites (holy-men seeking seclusion from society) reportedly discovered and lived in Iceland before the arrival of pagan settlers from Scandinavia. As questions like “which nation arrived first?” and “which religion was here first?” can inspire nationalistic and theological biases, the existence of such anchorites on Iceland remains hotly debated to this day. Some scholars want to entirely disregard written sources about the Irish anchorites in Iceland until archaeological evidence is found. Other scholars take a more literalist approach and want to blindly believe written records unless archaeology proves the sources wrong. Here, however, we will take a neutral stance and present the earliest written evidence behind the idea that Irish anchorites were present on Iceland, doing this simply for public awareness and intellectual entertainment—the metaphorical “food for thought.”

It is believed that the earliest person to claim that Irish hermits had set up camp in Iceland was the Irish monk, Dicuil, who published a text called Concerning the Measurement of the World in the year 825. In the work, Dicuil claimed that three Irish anchorites sailed to the mysterious island of “Thule” around 795. The so-called island of Thule has a history stretching back to the 4th century BCE, when the Greek explorer, Pytheas, found a large landmass (which he named Thule) after having sailed for nearly a week out into the sea off the northern coast of the British Isles. The identity of Pytheas’ Thule is still debated—many believe the explorer found Iceland, yet others think he may have reached Norway, instead.

It is unsurprising that we are not in agreement on the location of Thule, as even the ancients did not seem to know exactly where to find Pytheas’ Thule. By the time Julius Agricola was the Roman governor in Britannia (r. 77-84 CE), his fleet apparently believed Shetland was Thule. With multiple islands being called Thule by various authors, modern scholars have a difficult task of using the geographical description and latitude information to differentiate the regions. In the case of the 9th-century monk, Dicuil, his description of Thule has convinced many that he was referring to Iceland. The renowned Icelandic scholar and translator, Hermann Pálsson made mention of Dicuil in the introduction of his translation of The Book of Settlements. On Dicuil’s Thule, Hermann Pálsson confidently wrote, “The latitude he assigns to ‘Thule’ makes it certain that this must have been Iceland” (Pálsson, Landnámabók introduction, 1972, reprint 2006).

Another source from outside of Iceland is the Historia Norvegiae (History of Norway), an anonymous work that is believed to have been written in the 12th century. In that text, monkish figures called “Papae” were said to have lived on islands scattered around the British Isles before the arrival of Norse settlers. The anonymous author explained the title given to the religious figures by stating, “the Papae have been named from their white robes, which they wore like priests; whence priests are all called papae in the Teutonic tongue” (trans. A. O. Anderson, Early Sources of Scottish History, vol. I, 330-2). The author of the Historia Norvegiae did not specifically mention Iceland as a destination of these so-called papae, yet if they were sailing to places such as the Orkney Islands, who is to say that they did not keep sailing farther out.

Although the Historia Norvegiae did not connect the Papae to Iceland, another 12th-century writer did make that connection. Ari Thorgilsson the Learned (c. 1068-1148) was the first known historian of Iceland to write in the Icelandic vernacular and he claimed that when Norwegian settlers first arrived in Iceland, they found a few Irish monks already present on the island. This claim was first written in Ari’s text, the Book of Icelanders (Islendingabók). The assertion was later repeated in the Book of Settlements (Landnámabók), of which Ari the Learned is thought to have been a major contributor or original author. The Book of Settlements became a generational affair, with numerous versions being produced over the centuries and additional information included in each new edition.

There are five existent versions of the Book of Settlements, the oldest of which is the Stulubók (produced c. 1275-1280). The Stulubók and the Islendingabók have a nearly identical passage about the existence of Irish monks in Iceland before the arrival of Scandinavian settlers. Sturla Thordarson, the author of the Sturlubók, wrote, “before Iceland was settled from Norway there were other people there, called Papar by the Norwegians. They were Christians and were thought to have come overseas from the west, because people found Irish books, bells, croziers, and lots of other things, so it was clear they must have been Irish” (Sturlubók, chapter 1, trans. Hermann Pálsson, 1976, 2006). Ari Thorgilsson’s earlier account matched that of Sturla Thordarson except that Ari also claimed that the Christian monks left Iceland after the arrival of the Norse settlers. Ari the Learned was also slightly less committal to the monks’ origin—whereas Sturla claimed it was “clear” that the monks were Irish, Ari wrote “one could perceive” the monks of having an Irish origin based off of the evidence left behind (the books, bells, croziers, etc…). Although the Book of Settlements and the Book of Icelanders both mention Christian relics being left behind by the monks, no convincing archaeological remains of such pre-settlement items (or of the monks who left them there) has yet been discovered on Iceland.

In addition to the lack of physical evidence, some have questioned the truthfulness of Ari the Learned on the claim of Irish monks in Iceland because of Ari’s close connections to the See of Skalholt in Christianized Iceland. Like most medieval scholars, Ari received much of his education through the church, and two of his greatest patrons were the bishops, Thorlak Runolfsson of Skalholt and Ketil Thorsteinsson of Holar. Nevertheless, the question of whether or not Ari the Learned and other Christian scholars in Iceland would lie about the pre-settlement Irish monks is a debate of opinion, not fact. As of now, with no archaeological evidence to prove or disprove the claims, historians can only fall back on the stereotypical government response—we can neither confirm nor deny the existence of Irish monks in Iceland before the arrival of Norse settlers. Yet, although the existence of the monks cannot be confirmed, a majority of the historical community still seems to give Ari Thorgilsson and his successors the benefit of the doubt on their claim that Irish monks were present on Iceland before the time of settlement.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Public Domain: (An image from the tale of Saint Brendan, published by the Franciscan Sisters of the Perpetual Adoration (La Crosse, Wis.), c. early 1900s, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006. 
• http://www.paparproject.org.uk/introduction.html#6 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Dicuil 
• http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Gazetteer/People/Dicuil/Britannica_1911*.html 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ari-Thorgilsson-the-Learned 
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Iceland/Government-and-society#ref10088 
• https://www.historyireland.com/pre-norman-history/the-arctic-irish-fact-or-fiction/ 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Pytheas  

The Tale Of Breeches-Aud

The story of Breeches-Aud is one of the more memorable tales in the Icelandic Laxdæla saga, a 13th-century book filled with strong female characters that were loosely inspired by women said to have lived in the 9th, 10th, and 11th centuries. Although the exploits of many people described in the sagas were embellished or even invented, the core details (genealogy, settlement locations, poetic evidence etc.) were deemed to have enough truth that later Medieval Icelanders, such as the chieftain Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241), proudly and confidently traced their ancestry back to characters in the sagas. Whether or not the sagas were histories with creative license, historical fictions or pure folklore, they were feats of impressive storytelling and, as Icelandic stories go, the tale of Breeches-Aud was one of the more unique narratives.

According to the Laxdæla saga, Aud lived with her husband, Thord Ingunnarson, on a farmstead called Hol in 10th-century Iceland. Aud eventually became a bold woman of action, but in her first scene in the saga she is portrayed in an extremely downgrading light. Poor Aud was horribly described as “a woman who was neither good-looking nor exceptional in other ways, and Thord had little affection for her” (Laxdæla saga, chapter 32). Her husband, the prominent lawyer, Thord Ingunnarson, received much better treatment in his introduction: “Thord was a fine, strapping figure of a man, highly capable, and often involved in lawsuits” (Laxdæla saga, chapter 32).

Thord Ingunnarson’s law work brought him into contact with one of the central figures of the Laxdæla saga—Gudrun Osvifsdottir. Her father had forced her to marry a man named Thorvald Halldorsson when she was only fifteen years old. After two unhappy years of marriage, Gudrun decided to divorce her husband following an incident where Thorvald slapped her across the face. Before she had made her decision to separate from Thorvald, Gudrun had befriended Thord Ingunnarson, and now, she used his knowledge of Icelandic law to help her case. With her friend’s help, Gudrun successfully divorced Thorvald Halldorsson, and she even received half of his property when they split up.

Thord Ingunnarson remained friendly with Gudrun after her divorce, but he wanted to be more than friends. He was unhappy with his current wife, Aud, and quickly fell for the young Gudrun, who was described as “the most beautiful woman ever to have grown up in Iceland, and no less clever than she was good-looking” (Laxdæla saga, chapter 32). Gudrun apparently returned his affection and helped Thord search for a way to extricate himself from his unfulfilling marriage.

According to the Laxdæla saga, Thord and Gudrun were traveling to the Althing, Iceland’s national assembly, when the pair decided on what tactic to use against Thord’s wife. Gudrun claimed that if Aud was accused of cross-dressing like a man and witnesses were found to support the claim, no one would object to Thord filing for divorce. It was also Gudrun, who supposedly first proposed the catchy nickname, Breeches-Aud. Although Thord Ingunnarson responded to Gudrun’s plan by musing that he had never seen his wife dress like a man and similarly had never heard her be called Breeches-Aud, he decided to go with the ploy, anyway. When Thord reached the Althing, “He named witnesses and announced he was divorcing Aud on the grounds that she had taken to wearing breeches with a codpiece like a masculine woman” (Laxdæla saga, chapter 32). The announcement shocked, surprised and enraged Aud’s brothers, who were in the assembly at the time. It was through these siblings, Thorkel Pup and Knut, that the now infamous Breeches-Aud learned of her divorce. Thord did not immediately go back to Hol, but instead traveled to the estate of Gudrun’s father in Laugar. A posse did arrive, however, to seize some cattle from Aud’s farm in Hol as Thord’s share in the divorce, and, as soon as the animals reached Laugar, Thord and Gudrun became engaged, with their marriage set at the end of the summer.

Although Thord was ready to forget about his former wife, Breeches-Aud and her brothers were in no way willing to forgive and forget Thord. Thorkel Pup and Knut tried to rally their neighbors and relatives to support their mistreated sister, but Gudrun’s plan to assassinate the character of Aud had worked like a charm, and consequently, everyone was hesitant to give public support to Breeches-Aud. With no allies to be found, Thorkel Pup and Knut gave up hope of finding justice in court or battle. Breeches-Aud, however, did not stop her planning.

In the summertime, ewes were brought out to pasture and the inhabitants of the various Icelandic farmsteads that were responsible for the animals would stay in shielings (pasture huts) to keep watch over their respective flocks. The people of Hol pastured their ewes in Hvammsdal and Aud was one of the people staying in a shieling. Thord and Gudrun’s community from Laugar was pasturing its animals in Lambadal, just southwest of Aud’s location. Using farmhands as spies, Aud gathered information about her former husband. The informants reported back that almost everyone from Laugar was in the pasturelands, including Gudrun. Thord Ingunnarson, however, was not with the others. He was believed to be back at Laugar helping Gudrun’s father build a new hall.

Hearing that Thord would only be accompanied by his aging father-in-law during the night, Breeches-Aud decided that now was the time to strike back against her ex-husband. She invited only one other person to join her plot—a loyal shepherd. At the end of the day, after the exhausted herdsmen had gone to sleep, Breeches-Aud made her move. She even dressed for the occasion: “shortly before sundown Aud mounted her horse, dressed in breeches, to be sure” (Laxdæla saga, chapter 35). Armed with a sword and wearing pants “like a masculine woman,” Breeches-Aud and the loyal shepherd rode through the night to Laugur. There, just as Aud’s informants had predicted, Thord Ingunnarson was sleeping alone, with only his father-in-law nearby in another room of the home.

Breeches-Aud left the horses in the care of the shepherd and then crept, with sword brandished, toward the house. The door was not locked and she easily slipped inside the hall. Before long, she found the room where Thord was in a deep sleep. He did not wake up as his scorned ex-wife tiptoed into the room. He did not even awaken when she prodded him, presumably to hear why he had done what he did, or simply to look into his eyes while she attacked. She did not achieve either of those possible goals, for Thord merely rolled over on his left side in response to the poking.

Not wasting any more time, Breeches-Aud raised her sword to mete out vengeance on her ex-husband for his betrayal and the public humiliation that he had made her suffer. Summoning all of her rage, Aud chopped down with everything she had. In its single arc, the sword cut deep into Thord’s right arm and even sliced his pectorals before the blade lodged itself firmly into the wooden bed frame. As Thord howled in pain, Breeches-Aud escaped into the night. Thord was too wounded to chase after her, and by the time his father-in-law rushed into the room, Aud had already disappeared.

Thord Ingunnarson miraculously survived his wounds. His right arm had taken the bulk of the blow, crippling it for the rest of his life, but the cuts on his chest were minor flesh wounds that healed quickly. At first, because of the breeches, Thord thought his assailant was a man. Yet, after thinking it over, he came to suspect it was Aud. In an interesting ending to the story, Thord sympathized with his ex-wife and, although he was an accomplished lawyer, he decided not to press charges. When explaining his reasoning to his father-in-law, Thord simply said, “what Aud had done was only evening the score” (Laxdæla saga, chapter 35).

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Image of the Valkyrie, Brunnhild, painted by Arthur Rackham (1867–1939), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Saga of the People of Laxardal and Bolli Bollason’s Tale, by an anonymous 13th-century Icelander and translated by Keneva Kunz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.

10 More Fun Viking-Age Names And The Stories Of The People They Belonged To

The heyday of the Viking age occurred between the eighth and eleventh centuries. Yet, some Scandinavian noblemen continued to embark on Viking-like activities well into the twelfth century. Jarl Rognvald Kali of Orkney (r. 1137-1158) was one such nobleman and he ironically was said to have gone raiding in the Mediterranean while on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The Viking Age is a well-documented period, with sources from multiple sides and viewpoints. Viking Age kings wrote about their accomplishments on stone monuments, and historians such as the Icelandic Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241) and the Danish Saxo Grammaticus (c. 12th-13th century) later narrated events from the perspective of Norway and Denmark. There are also substantial sources from the regions attacked by Vikings, such as chroniclers based in the British Isles and France. With such a wealth of information, much is known about the key figures from the Viking Age and their exploits during that chaotic time. Yet, Viking Age Scandinavians did not excel at only daring raids and bold seamanship—they also had some of the most creative names in all of Europe. We previously published an article listing ten fun and unique names from the Viking Age (check it out HERE), yet that was barely scratching the surface. Here are ten more fun names and a brief summary of their lives in the Viking Age.

1) Einar Buttered-Bread: This curious character reportedly lived in the 10th century and is mentioned in the Orkneyinga saga. Einar Buttered-Bread was said to have been a well-respected chieftain in Orkney, yet he had a remarkable fall from grace. He eventually assassinated a certain Jarl Havard of Orkney, causing a power-struggle to erupt. According to the saga, Einar Buttered-Bread was killed by another claimant to the jarldom. For a more in-depth look at Einar’s life and the power-struggle in Orkney, read our article HERE.

2) Killer-Hrapp: According to the Laxdæla saga, Hrapp was a 10th-century Hebridean immigrant to Iceland. He set up a farmstead called Hrappsstadir and, when he died, was buried upright under his kitchen. It is unclear when he was given his nickname, Killer-Hrapp, but he lived up to his reputation even after death. The ghost of Killer-Hrapp reportedly haunted Hrappsstadir and the locals were so afraid of his supernatural power that Hrapp’s body was exhumed and reburied in an uninhabited forest. His remains were later discovered under a cowshed belonging to the Hjardarholt farmstead, which was also plagued by hauntings. When the remains were located, Killer-Hrapp’s body was exhumed for a second time and burned. For a detailed account of Killer-Hrapp’s hauntings, check out our article, HERE.

3) Olaf Peacock: Olaf Hoskuldsson Peacock owned Hjardarholt and was the man who burned Killer-Hrapp’s body. In the Laxdæla saga, Olaf was described as a wealthy chieftain who sailed to Norway and Ireland. Wherever he went, Olaf seemed to obtain items of great wealth and value (read about his gilded belongings, HERE). Such lavish possessions, as well as his prideful preening, were reportedly the inspiration behind his nickname, Peacock. His life is dated to around 938-1006.

4) Sweyn the Sacrificer: Also known as Sacrifice-Sweyn or Blot-Sweyn, he was an 11th-century Swede who resisted King Inge the Elder’s attempts to enforce Christianity in Sweden. He was apparently given his nickname, “the sacrificer,” because of his outspoken support for the traditional pagan sacrifices of the Norse religion. Sweyn the Sacrificer made appearances in sources such as the Heimskringla of Snorri Sturluson and the Orkneyinga saga. He reportedly put up a good fight against King Inge of Sweden, but Sweyn was ultimately assassinated.

5) Hallbjorn Slickstone-eye: Hallbjorn was a Hebridean who immigrated to Iceland in the 10th century with his parents and brother. According to the Laxdæla saga, his family settled in Skalmarfjord but were unwelcome and faced discrimination by the locals. Accused of theft and sorcery, Hallbjorn’s family fled to Kambsnes, Iceland. Yet, when a young boy died unexpectedly in the region, Hallbjorn’s family was accused of killing the child with witchcraft. In the ensuing witch-hunt, Hallbjorn Slickstone-eye’s entire family was subsequently hunted down and murdered. For a more lengthy account of this tragic story, read our article, HERE.

6) Svein Breast-Rope: According to the Orkneyinga saga, Svein Breast-Rope was a follower of Jarl Paul the Silent of Orkney (d. 1137). Svein had a rude and argumentative reputation and was not a popular man. He apparently became more competitive, jealous and belligerent as he drank. As could be expected, Svein Breast-Rope was eventually killed in a drunken brawl. Sadly, no one mourned his death—not even the local bishop.

7) Harald Graycloak: Harald Graycloak, also known as King Harald II, became the ruler of Norway in 961, following the death of his uncle, King Hákon the Good. Harald’s memorable name reportedly originated from a lordly gray sheepskin cloak that he often wore (check out our article on this cloak, HERE). Both Harald and his late uncle, Hákon, were reportedly Christian, but whereas Hákon took a minimalist approach to religion, Harald put more effort into converting Norway. His attempts to convert the population (as well as assassinations of prominent pagan chieftains) led to massive revolts against his rule. Harald Graycloak was eventually killed around 970 while in Denmark. After Harald’s death, the pagan Jarl Hákon Sigurdsson dominated Norway until 995.

8) Thord Dragon-Jaw: Thord appeared in a section of the Orkneyinga saga that described postmortem miracles attributed to Saint Magnus (d. 1117).  A hard-working but irreligious man, Thord Dragon-Jaw made the fateful decision to thresh barley late into the night on the eve of St. Magnus’ Mass. According to the story, the spirit of St. Magnus did not approve of Thord's conduct and struck the man with a good dose of holy insanity. For over six days, Thord Dragon-Jaw was consumed with madness. His condition was said to have only improved after a vigil was held and money was donated to the shrine of St. Magnus on Thord’s behalf. For more information on St. Magnus and his supernatural exploits, read our article, HERE.

9) Harald Smooth-Tongue: Harald Smooth-Tongue was a 12th-century jarl of Orkney. He shared power with his brother, Jarl Paul the Silent. He died a mysterious death and many believed foul play was involved. The Orkneyinga saga claimed that Harald Smooth-Tongue put on a poisoned garment and died in agony from whatever had been applied to the cloth.

10) An Twig-belly: According to the Laxdæla saga, a man named An the Black lived in Iceland around the turn of the 11th century. He was a devoted companion of Olaf Peacock’s sons and apparently had a gift for foreseeing trouble. In 1003, during a tense Icelandic feud, An the Black reportedly had a nightmare in which someone had gutted him and replaced his entrails with twigs. When he told his friends about the dream, they laughed it off and jovially threatened to give him a nickname based on the nightmare. Yet, people looked on the nightmare differently when An the Black and his friend, Kjartan Olafsson, were soon after ambushed on the road. Kjartan was killed and An was virtually disemboweled during the fight. Although Kjartan died, An miraculously recovered from his wounds. From then on, he was said to have been called An Twig-belly. He reportedly was killed in 1007, while trying to avenge Kjartan’s death.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Depiction of Norse explorers from a book by Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836-1907), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.
• Orkneyinga Saga, written anonymously approximately c. 1200, translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. New York: Penguin Classics, 1981. 
• Laxdæla saga by an unknown 13th century Icelander, translated by Keneva Kunz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.  

The Deadly Ghost Story Of Killer-Hrapp

According to Icelandic folklore, a belligerent and bullying farmer named Hrapp immigrated to Iceland from the Hebrides sometime in the 10th century. He built a farmstead called Hrappsstadir, which was adjacent to lands owned by the leading settlers of the Laxardal region in Iceland. As portrayed in the Laxdæla saga, which was centered on that region of Iceland, Hrapp and the dominant chieftain of the region, Hoskuld, jostled for power and influence in their community. Hrapp never surpassed Hoskuld in importance, yet the stubborn farmer maintained a fierce reputation in Laxardal until the day he died. He came to be known as Killer-Hrapp, but whether he gained this name before or after he died is unclear. Whatever the case, the legend of Killer-Hrapp only continued to grow after his death.

According to the saga, Hrapp died in the mid 10th century, either during the reign of King Hákon the Good of Norway (r. 946-961) or Harald II Graycloak (r. 961-970). Hrapp left his wife strict instructions for how he wanted to be buried—his wish was for his body to be laid to rest in an upright position underneath the threshold of the kitchen. The request was not unique; similar burials were made in at least three other sagas, including Hen-Thorir’s Saga, Saga of People of Svarfadardal, and the Saga of the People of Vatnsdal. Such a burial was thought to allow the spirit of the deceased to guard over the homestead and the people that were left behind.

Hrapp’s dutiful wife carried out her late husband’s wishes and buried him exactly as he had asked. According to the saga, the ritual was a success and the spirit of the deceased landowner became anchored to the farmstead. Yet, if the people of Hrappsstadir thought that the spirit would be a benevolent guardian, they were quickly and brutally shown just how wrong their assumption had been. In fact, the bullying and malicious nature of Killer-Hrapp was only amplified after his death. As the saga put it, “if it had been difficult to deal with him when he was alive, he was much worse dead, for he haunted the area relentlessly” (Laxdæla saga, chapter 17).  

Life at Hrappsstadir quickly became a nightmare. It did not take long for Killer-Hrapp to live up to his name. He haunted and frightened the whole region, but he seemed to have a special hate for his farm staff. On Hrapp’s dogged targeting of this unfortunate group of people, the Laxdæla saga reported, “It is said that in his hauntings he killed most of his servants” (chapter 17). The brutal haunting eventually caused the whole population of Hrappsstadir, including Hrapp’s widow and son, to flee from the farmstead, and the region became an abandoned ghost town.

The hauntings of Killer-Hrapp began to worry other regions of Laxardal, so the farmers petitioned the chieftain Hoskuld to do something about the deadly ghost. In response to his people’s pleas, Hoskuld gathered his courage and traveled to Hrappsstadir. There, he exhumed the body of Hrapp from underneath the farmstead’s kitchen and then had the remains reburied far away in a forest. To everyone’s relief, the relocation of the body drastically reduced the number of reported hauntings in Laxardal. Yet, although Killer-Hrapp’s supernatural influence over Hrappsstadir and Laxardal had been diluted by the exhumation of his body, the ghost found more subtle means to sow mayhem in the region.

After Hoskuld had restored a semblance of order to Hrappsstadir, Killer-Hrapp’s son, Sumarlidi, returned to the property and tried to revive the farm. Not long after the young man went home, however, he was said to have become delirious and suddenly died. The people of Laxardal quickly attributed the death to the malicious spirit of Hrapp and the farmstead once again was abandoned. Sumarlidi’s mother inherited the estate after her son’s death, but she vowed to never return to that cursed land. Her apprehension about the estate, however, was not shared by her brother, the brave Thorstein Surt. Disregarding the ghost stories, Thorstein Surt packed his belongings onto a ship and set sail with eleven companions for Hrappsstadir, where he intended to bring the farm back to prominence. Unfortunately, Thorstein Surt’s dream was not realized—his ship sank in the final stretch of the trip and ten out of the eleven passengers onboard drowned, including Thorstein Surt. Next to inherit the cursed property was Thorstein’s daughter Gudrid, and her husband, Thorkel Scarf. The couple, however, pointedly left Hrappsstadir abandoned.

To the northeast of Hrappsstadir lived Olaf Peacock, so named because of his prideful demeanor and his ever-gilded fashion sense that applied to clothing and weaponry, alike. Olaf wanted to expand into Hrappsstadir and build a new farmstead on the deserted land. As a result of the hauntings and suspicious deaths connected to the region, Thorkel Skarf gladly sold the land for a measly three marks of silver. After acquiring the land, Olaf Peacock constructed the farm of Hjardarholt in a location just a short distance from Hrapp’s original farmstead.

Hjardarholt thrived, but farmhands began to report unnerving supernatural events. The epicenter of the hauntings seemed to be the cowshed for non-milking cattle, a structure located in a forested section of Olaf’s new property. The ghostly presence there was so bad that the cowherd threatened to leave if he was not transferred to another task. Instead of reassigning the man, Olaf Peacock accompanied the cowherd to the shed to help manage the cattle. While the two were working, the ghost of Killer-Hrapp appeared in the cowshed. In a comedic scene from the saga, the cowherd saw the ghost first and “suddenly came running back into Olaf’s arms” in freight (Laxdæla saga, chapter 24).  After wrenching himself free of the cowherd, Olaf Peacock heroically rushed at the ghost and stabbed at the spirit with a spear (gold-inlaid, of course). The spear did not harm the ghost, but the spectral Killer-Hrapp had enough supernatural power to snap off the weapon’s gilded spearhead before spookily sinking into the ground, taking the spear with him.

Olaf Peacock interpreted Killer-Hrapp’s disappearance into the earth as evidence that the ghost’s body was located underground in that very spot. The next morning, Olaf and his farmhands grabbed their spades and excavated the earth around the cowshed. They eventually discovered Killer-Hrapp’s restless body, which was reportedly still clinging to Olaf’s lost spearhead with the inlaid gold. After the body was exhumed for a second time, the remains were burned and then the ashes were dumped into the sea. With this, Killer-Hrapp’s reign of terror finally ended.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Scene of Gudrun and the ghost by Andreas Bloch (1860–1917), based on a passage from the Laxdæla saga, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Saga of the People of Laxardal and Bolli Bollason’s Tale, by an anonymous 13th-century Icelander and translated by Keneva Kunz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.