e king. The province was
given the name of Normandy, and from Rollo descended that sturdy race of
kings one of whom conquered England in the following century. Thus the
exile of Rollo led to events of world-wide importance.
When the proud Norseman was asked to kiss King Charles's foot in token of
fealty to him, he answered: "I will never bend my knee before any man,
nor will I kiss any man's foot."
He could hardly be persuaded to let one of his men kiss the king's foot
as a proxy for him. The man chosen strode sturdily forward, seized the
foot of the king, who was on horseback, and lifted it to his lips so
roughly that the poor king turned a somersault from his horse. The
Norsemen laughed in derision while the king's followers stood by grim and
silent.
But despite his unruliness at home, Rollo, when he got a kingdom of his
own, ruled it with all the sternness of King Harold, hanging all robbers
that fell into his hands, and making his kingdom so secure that the
peasants could leave their tools in the fields at night without fear of
loss. Five generations after him came to the throne William the
Conqueror, who won himself the kingdom of England.
To go back to Harold, the builder of the kingdom of Norway, we shall only
say in conclusion that he built his rule on sure foundations and kept a
court of high splendor, and died without a rebel in his realm in 933,
seventy-three years after he succeeded his father as ruler of a
province.
_GORM THE OLD, DENMARK'S FIRST KING._
In ancient times Denmark was not a kingdom, but a multitude of small
provinces ruled over by warlike chiefs who called themselves kings. It
was not until the ninth century that these little king-ships were
combined into one kingdom, this being done by a famous chieftain, known
by the Danes as Gorm den Gamle, or Gorm the Old. A great warrior he was,
a viking of the vikings, and southern Europe felt his heavy hand. A
famous story of barbarian life is that of Gorm, which well deserves to be
told.
He was the son of a fierce pagan of Norway, Hardegon, who was of royal
blood, being a grandson of the half-fabulous Ragnar Lodbrok. A prince
with only his sword for kingdom, Hardegon looked around for a piece of
land to be won by fighting, and fixed upon Lejre, in the fruitful Danish
island of Sjoelland, which was just then in a very inviting state for the
soldier of fortune. Some time before it had fallen into the hands of a
Swedish fortune-see
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