During the reign of Haakon Haakonsson lived the renowned Icelandic historian, Snorre Sturlasson. It is due to him that the ancient history of Norway has been saved from oblivion. His great work, called Heimskringla (the Circle of the Earth), after the words with which it begins, is a coherent and in the main reliable record of the events which took place in Norway from the time of Harold the Fairhaired down to the Battle of Ree in 1177. The more or less mythical history which precedes the reign of Harold is also included, though it can scarcely, in many features, lay claim to credibility. The style is clear and vigorous, and the characterizations are extremely vivid. Scaldic lays are introduced into the text as evidences of the veracity of the narrative, and anecdotes are preserved which throw a strong light upon the characters of the heroes. The Heimskringla is, accordingly, not a loose conglomeration of fact and fiction, such as monkish chroniclers in the Middle Ages were in the habit of composing, but a historic work of high rank, betraying a mature critical spirit and artistic taste, in style and arrangement. Several scaldic lays are also attributed to Snorre, besides portions of the Younger Edda—a collection of myths and legends, dealing with the traditions of the ancient Asa faith. It is as editor and collector, however, not as author, that he is here entitled to credit.

Snorre Sturlasson was born in Iceland in 1178, and was, at the age of three, adopted by the great chieftain, Jon Loftsson, a grandson of Saemund the Learned. His father was Sturla Thordsson, a high-born but turbulent man, and his mother, Gudny BÖdvar's daughter. Jon Loftsson had inherited a very considerable collection of historical MSS. from his grandfather, Saemund, and his house was the home of the best culture which the island at that time possessed. Snorre, though any thing but a book-worm, became interested in the myths and tales of paganism, and by intercourse with his foster-father imbibed a taste for historical research. After the death of the latter in 1198, he found himself penniless, his mother having wasted his paternal inheritance. In order to maintain his dignity, he was therefore obliged to look about for a rich marriage, and by the aid of his brothers succeeded in gaining the hand of the wealthiest heiress in Iceland. He now devoted himself to the task of increasing his power. By shrewd bargaining, by intimidation, and by open violence he gained possession of six large estates and amassed an enormous fortune. Iceland, at that time, was torn with factional feuds, and Snorre understood to perfection the art of fishing in troubled waters. He was a man of energetic and determined character—a man of large plans and few scruples. There is a vigorous worldliness visible in all his acts, and a prudent adaptation of means to ends. At his residence, Reykjaholt, which he fortified, improved, and beautified in a manner, the like of which had never been seen in Iceland, he lived like a prince, maintaining an armed force which seemed to threaten the republic. Ruins of his bath-house are yet to be seen, and yet bear his name (Snorrelaug). The bath was built of hewn stones, and the hot water was conducted by a stone aqueduct from the neighboring geysers.

Snorre had two brothers, Thord and Sighvat. The former was of a quiet disposition, and not over-ambitious, while the latter was Snorre's counterpart, and like him engaged in increasing his fortune by trickery and violence.

Two men, thus constituted, would scarcely be restrained by their fraternal relation, when their interests clashed; and before long, we find Sighvat and Snorre at swords' points.

By the weight of his influence, Snorre gradually absorbed the more important offices in the gift of his countrymen. Thus he was, in 1215, elected speaker of the law, and in this capacity came in conflict with his foster-brother, Saemund Jonsson, who took exception to one of his rulings. The Icelandic Althing was both a legislative assembly and a supreme court, and it was the duty of the speaker in legal cases to decide what was law. If any of the contending parties rejected the decision of the Althing, an appeal to the sword was always open to him. The law was a consultative, not an absolute power, and depended upon its fairness for its authority. Snorre, whose duty it was to give weight to the law, had so small respect for his office, that he appeared with eight hundred and forty armed men, determined to overawe his opponents. A compromise was with difficulty arranged, but the seed of mischief had been sown, and was not slow to sprout and bear fruit.

Snorre's fame had, in the meanwhile, reached Norway, and many honorable invitations were extended to him from the foremost chieftains of the land. Accordingly he set sail in 1218, with a large train of followers, visited King Haakon and Earl Skule, and gained the latter's friendship. The king made him his liegeman, and it is said that Snorre promised Skule to bring Iceland under the dominion of the mother country. The plan was a tempting one. If by the surrender of the liberties of the island, he could attain the dignity of Earl of Iceland, he could, at one blow, by Skule's aid, crush all his enemies, and reign undisputed as the first man in the land. On his return home, however, he discovered that the obstacles in his way were greater than he had anticipated. It appears, even, that he repented of his rash promise, and was anxious to postpone the day of its fulfilment. Whether, in his subsequent machinations, he meant to secure his own predominance, as a means to carrying out his bargain with the earl, is difficult to determine.

In 1222 Snorre's rival and bitterest enemy, Saemund Jonsson, died, and his children, who were at variance about an inheritance from their uncle, Orm Jonsson, called upon Snorre to arbitrate between them. They did this, not because they loved him and had confidence in his fairness, but because they feared him and were anxious to have the old feud terminated. Snorre understood this perfectly, and had no hesitation in taking advantage of his position. Having recently been separated from his wife, he saw a chance of further enriching himself by marrying the beautiful Solveig, the sister of the contending brothers. He accordingly divided the inheritance so as to give her the lion's share; but just as he seemed to have made sure of his game, his nephew, Sturla Sighvatsson, stepped up and snatched the girl from his expectant arms. By his unfair arbitration, he thus benefited the man who was henceforth to become his most dangerous enemy. Nothing daunted, however, Snorre turned his attention to another and far wealthier heiress, whom he succeeded in marrying. By a series of bargains, in which he made an unscrupulous use of the fear which his name inspired, he continued to increase his wealth, until his power overshadowed that of all other chieftains in the island. Sturla, who in shrewdness and daring was more than a match for his uncle, pursued a similar course, and with the perpetual clashing of interests their hostility grew more pronounced. Snorre had, in the meanwhile, by his friendship for Earl Skule, incurred the enmity of King Haakon. Sturla on his return from a pilgrimage to Rome, succeeded in gaining the king's confidence, and in deepening his distrust of Snorre. He made now the same bargain with the king that his uncle had previously made with Skule, promising, in return for the dignity of Earl of Iceland, to bring the country under the Norwegian crown. On his return home, he did not, however, at once venture to attack his rival, but contented himself with picking quarrels with his son, UrÖkja, and his son-in-law, Gissur Thorvaldsson. The former he captured and maimed, but in his conflict with the latter he succumbed. In a regular battle, which was fought in 1238, both Sturla and his father, Sighvat, were killed. Snorre was at that time in Norway, where he had the imprudence to commit himself as a partisan of Skule, and thereby still further incensed the king. Contrary to the command of the latter, he returned to Iceland, where his predominance seemed now secured. But King Haakon, who henceforth regarded him as an open enemy, became the means of his destruction. Snorre had already, by his rapacity and greed, incurred the hostility of his son-in law, Gissur Thorvaldsson, and with him the king opened negotiations, demanding of him that he should either kill his father-in-law or send him as a prisoner to Norway. Gissur accordingly attacked Snorre at Reykjaholt with seventy armed men, and slew him (1241).

Snorre's nephew, Sturla Thordsson, who at one time was a great chieftain and a defender of Icelandic independence, continued the Heimskringla in his uncle's spirit, writing the Saga of Haakon Haakonsson. This is a model biography, clearly and vigorously written, and abounding in interesting details. Another remarkable book, which was written in Norway during Haakon's reign, is the so-called King's Mirror (KonungsskuggsjÁ). It contains, in the shape of a dialogue between father and son, moral teachings and rules of life and conduct. Its maxims of worldly wisdom and rules of etiquette give a vivid insight into the modes of life and thought in the thirteenth century.