The Norwegian account of Haco's expedition against Scotland, A.D. MCCLXIII. — Context and Discussion

The Translator's Dual Role

James Johnstone, chaplain to the British envoy in Denmark, positions himself as both scholar and mediator. His 1782 preface explains that the Hebrides (Æbudæ) were 'long, the cause of much dispute between various kingdoms,' and he dedicates the work to Archibald Macdonald, linking the text to Macdonald's ancestors, 'the Lords of the Hebrides.' Johnstone's footnotes, printed on-page in this 1882 edition, provide geographical and historical glosses—for instance, identifying 'Melansey' or explaining that 'Kiararey' is a specific island. This editorial layer creates a dialogue between the medieval narrative and Enlightenment antiquarianism.

Pace and the Shifting Narrative

The saga's pace varies markedly between set-piece battles and logistical summaries. A battle scene moves in tight sequence: 'the Scotch then left the eminence, and fled' while Norwegians 'retired to their boats, and rowing out to their ships, luckily escaped the storm.' The next morning they recover named dead—Haco of Steini, Thorgisl Gloppa, Karlhoved—before the narrative abruptly shifts to King Haco ordering his dead 'to be carried to a church.' In contrast, later passages condense weeks of sailing into a list of islands: 'sailed past Melansey and lay some nights near Arran, then proceeded to Sandey and so to the Mull of Kintire.' This alternation between vivid detail and compressed itinerary reflects the saga's dual function as heroic record and administrative log.

Skaldic Verse as Historical Evidence

The embedded skaldic stanzas offer a parallel, more stylized account. One verse describes 'the conflict of corselets on the blood-red hill,' using kennings like 'supporter of thrones' for king and 'offspring of Ingui' for Norsemen. These poems claim that 'none durst contend with the offspring of Ingui' in the western regions, a boast that the prose sometimes undercuts—as when Haco's army opposes his plan to sail for Ireland, forcing him to steer for the Hebrides instead. The verses thus serve not as neutral record but as ideological reinforcement, celebrating victories while the prose notes setbacks like storms, shortages, and the killing of Norwegians by Mull-men.

Readers should attend to the interplay between Johnstone's editorial voice and Sturla's original. The footnotes often clarify place-names or customs, but they also reflect 18th-century assumptions about Scottish history. Comparing the prose's factual tone with the verse's heroic register reveals how the saga constructs authority through multiple narrative modes.

Reading the old Icelandic account of Haco’s voyage, I kept thinking how those distant clashes echo forward—the same stubborn grief over lost sovereignty. It made me linger on The Jacobite Rebellions (1689-1746) (Bell's Scottish History Source Books.) — Background and Themes, where that ache repeats, softer but no less real. Something about how a place remembers its failed causes stays with you quietly.