FLIGHT OF GUSTAVUS; UPRISING OF THE DALESMEN. 1519-1521.
Escape of Gustavus from Denmark.--Lubeck.--Return of Gustavus to
Sweden.--Excommunication of Sture.--Invasion of Sweden.--Death of
Sture.--Dissolution of the Swedish Army.--Heroism of
Christina.--Battle of Upsala.--Gustavus at Kalmar.--Fall of
Stockholm.--Coronation of Christiern II.--Slaughter of the
Swedes.--Flight of Gustavus to Dalarne.--Efforts to rouse the
Dalesmen.--Gustavus chosen Leader.
One morning, in the early autumn of 1519, a young man, clad in the
coarse garments of a drover, made a hasty exit from the gate of Kaloe
Castle, and turning into the forest proceeded along the western shore of
Kaloe Bay. His step was firm and vigorous, and indicated by its rapidity
that the wayfarer was endeavoring to elude pursuit. Though apparently
not over twenty-four, there was something about the traveller's face and
bearing that gave him the look of a person prematurely old. Of large
frame, tall and broad-shouldered, with heavy massive face, high
cheek-bones, a careworn dark blue eye, large straight nose, and
compressed lips,--the under lip projecting slightly,--he would have been
pointed out anywhere as a man not easily to be led. The face would not,
perhaps, be regarded as particularly intellectual; but determination
and energy were stamped on every feature, and every movement of the body
displayed strength and power of endurance. It was pre-eminently the face
and body of one made to govern rather than to obey. Such, in his
twenty-fourth year, was Gustavus Vasa. He had made his escape from Kaloe
Castle, and was fleeing with all speed to Lubeck, the busy, enterprising
head of the Hanseatic League.
His way led him through some of the most picturesque spots in Denmark.
It was a lovely rolling country, with fertile fields and meadows,
relieved in places by little clumps of forest, beneath which he could
often discern the time-worn front of some grim old mansion. Sheep and
cattle were grazing on the hillsides. Thatch-roofed huts, with plastered
walls, were all about him. The fields, in those September days, were red
with buckwheat. Occasionally a broad meadow spread out before him, and,
to avoid the husbandmen gathering in their crops, he was often forced to
make a long circuit through thick forests of beech and maple. Here and
there he came on mighty barrows raised over the bodies of Danish
warriors and kings. Well might it make his blood boil within him to
witness these honors heaped upon the Danes for their deeds of blood and
cruelty to his fathers. Through such scenes, weary and footsore, in
constant dread of his pursuers, and with dark misgivings as to the fate
before him, he pressed on, until at last, near the end of September, the
gray walls of Lubeck, to which he had looked forward as a refuge, stood
before him and he entered in.[36]
Lubeck, the capital of the Hanse Towns, and by virtue of this position
monarch of the northern seas, had been for three centuries a bitter foe
to Denmark. At intervals the Danish kings had sought to check the naval
supremacy of Lubeck, and more than once the two powers had been at open
war. Of late, by reason of dissensions among the Towns, Denmark had
gradually been gaining the upper hand. But Lubeck was still very far
from acknowledging the right of Denmark to carry on an independent
trade, and the growing power of the Danish kings only added fuel to the
flame. Lubeck was, therefore, at this time a peculiarly favorable asylum
for one who was at enmity with Christiern. Gustavus doubtless had
reckoned on this advantage, and had resolved to throw himself on the
mercy of the town. He went directly to the senate, laid his case before
them, and asked them boldly for a ship and escort to take him back to
Sweden. This request apparently was more than they were prepared to
grant. They hesitated, and in the mean time the commandant of Kaloe
Castle tracked his prisoner to Lubeck, and appeared before the senate to
demand that he be surrendered. Many of the senators, unwilling to incur
the wrath of Christiern, were minded to give him up. Others, however,
were opposed to such a course. As a result, all action in the matter was
for the time suspended. Eight weary months dragged on, Gustavus
throughout that period remaining in Lubeck. Finally, in May, 1520, one
of the burgomasters, whose friendship the youth had won, espoused his
cause, and he was allowed to sail for Sweden. By good fortune he
steered clear of the Danish fleet, and on the 31st of May set foot
again on his native soil, near Kalmar.[37]
Meantime the Danish arms had not been idle. Soon after the overthrow of
Trolle and the destruction of his castle, the king of Denmark had
despatched a messenger to Rome, to enlist the Holy Father in his cause.
Pope Leo, reluctant to take upon himself to decide a matter of whose
merits he could know so little, appointed the archbishop of Lund, aided
by a Danish bishop, to investigate the question and report to him. A
tribunal so composed could scarcely be expected to render other verdict
than that which Christiern wished. They reported adversely to the
regent. Sture and his adherents were therefore excommunicated by the
pope, and all church ministrations interdicted throughout Sweden. To a
pious people such a blow was terrible in the extreme. All church bells
were for the moment hushed, the church doors barred, and the souls of an
entire nation doomed to eternal death. But even in the face of this
calamity the regent persevered. He refused to restore Trolle to his
post, or even to make him amends for his losses. On this news being
brought to Rome, the pontiff made no attempt to hide his wrath. He wrote
at once to Christiern, with instructions to enter Sweden and inflict
punishment on those who had thus set at naught the papal power.
Christiern was entranced. As champion of the pope he felt certain of
success. Without delay he collected all the forces in the kingdom, horse
and foot, and placed them under the command of a gallant young officer,
Otto Krumpen, with orders to invade Sweden from the south. They landed
in the early days of January, 1520, and proceeded northwards, ravaging
the country as they went. Sture at once issued a broadside to the
people, calling them to arms. He likewise sent his messengers to Trolle,
to beg him to use his influence against the enemies of Sweden. The
deposed archbishop, now cringing before his victor, yielded his assent.
Sture, thus emboldened, moved forward with his army to meet the Danes.
Knowing that they were advancing through the province of Vestergoetland,
and that their line of march in the winter season would be across the
lakes, Sture took up his position in a narrow cove at the northern end
of Lake Asunden. In the centre of this cove, through which the Danes
must pass, he raised a huge bulwark of felled trees, and within the
bulwark stationed his infantry, with provisions enough to last two
months. He then chopped up the ice about the fort, and retired to the
north with his cavalry to await the onset. It was not long he had to
wait. On the 18th of January the Danish army drew near, and seeing the
fortification began to storm it with their catapults. As they
approached, the Swedish cavalry, with Sture at their head, dashed out
along the shore to meet them. The regent was mounted on a fiery charger,
and carried into the very thickest of the fight. But scarcely had the
first shot been fired when a missile glancing along the ice struck
Sture's horse from under him, and in a moment horse and rider were
sprawling on the ice. So soon as Sture could be extricated, he was found
to have received an ugly wound upon the thigh. His followers bore him
bleeding from the field, and hastened with his lacerated body to the
north. But the battle was not yet over. Long and hot it raged about the
fortress on the ice. Twice the Danish troops made a mad assault, and
after heavy losses were repulsed. At last, however, their heavy
catapults began to tell. The sides of the bulwark weakened, and the
Danish army by a vigorous onslaught burst open a passage, and put the
Swedish infantry to the sword. This victory was followed by a night of
riot, the Swedes thus gaining time to collect the scattered remnants of
their army. With a single impulse, though without a leader, they fled
across the marshy meadows of Vestergoetland to the north. Their goal was
Tiveden, a dreary jungle of stunted pines and underbrush, through which
it was expected the enemy would have to pass. Here after two days' march
they gathered, and threw up a mighty barrier of felled trees and
brushwood, thinking in that way to impede the passage of the Danes. All
about them the land, though not mountainous, was rough and rugged in the
extreme, huge bowlders and fragments of rock lying about on every side.
In spots the undergrowth was wanting, but its place was generally filled
by little lakes and bogs, quite as difficult to traverse as the forest.
In this region the patriots collected, and with undaunted spirit once
more awaited the coming of the Danes. Again they were not disappointed.
The Danish army, recovering from its night of revelry, proceeded on the
track of the fugitives, stormed their barrier, and on the 1st of
February put them once more to flight. This done, the invaders pressed
forward, burning, robbing, murdering, and affixing bans to every church
door, till they arrived at Vesteras.[38]
Let us turn for a moment to another scene. Sture, who had been carried
bleeding from the field of battle, had been taken first to Oerebro. But
the journey over the ice and snow at the dead of winter so aggravated
his wound that it was clear to all he could take no further part in
carrying on the war. He gave orders therefore to be removed to
Stockholm, where he might be under the tender care and sympathy of his
wife. It was God's will, however, that he should never see her more. On
the 2d of February, when almost within sight of the castle walls, he
died; and the loved one for whose sympathy he had longed was given
nothing but her husband's lifeless corpse.[39] They buried of him all
that earth could bury; but his undaunted spirit remained still among his
people, cheering them in their misfortunes, and ever calling upon them
to resist the hand of the oppressor. Sten Sture's character is one which
draws forth a warmth of sentiment such as can be felt for no other
character of his time. Living in an age when hypocrisy was looked upon
with honor, and when falsehood was deemed a vice only when unsuccessful,
he showed in all his dealings, whether with friends or foes, a steadfast
integrity of purpose with an utter ignorance of the art of
dissimulation. Not a stain can history fix upon his memory. Highly
gifted as a statesman, courageous on the field of battle, ever courteous
in diplomacy, and warm and sympathetic in the bosom of his family, his
figure stands forth as one of the shining examples of the height to
which human character can attain. It is with a sigh we leave him, and
turn again to trace the history of his people.
Grim ruin now stared the patriot army in the face. Bereft of the only
person who seemed competent to guide them, beaten at every point,
without arms or provisions, and with a horde of trained and well-armed
soldiers at their heels, the fleeing patriots came straggling into
Strengnaes on the Maelar. Hubbub and confusion reigned supreme. Many of
the magnates counselled immediate surrender. Others, somewhat more loyal
to their country, raised a timid voice in favor of continuing the war,
but no one ventured to come forth and lead his fellow-countrymen against
the foe. Thus they frittered away the precious moments while the Danes
were getting ready for another onset. All this time there was one brave
heart still beating for them in the capital. The regent's widow, nothing
daunted by her own calamity or by the disasters that had come upon her
husband's people, kept sending messengers one after another to implore
them to unite in defence of their native land. At length it seemed as if
her supplications were destined to prevail. A firmer purpose spread
among them, and they girded up their loins for another conflict. Their
spark of courage, however, proved abortive. No sooner did the enemy
again appear than the patriots turned their backs and fled in wild
dismay. On coming once more together after this bloodless battle, they
resolved without further ado to lay down arms. A letter was despatched
to Krumpen requesting parley. This was granted; and on the 22d of
February it was agreed that the two parties should hold a conference in
Upsala on the 3d of March, for the purpose of making terms. The Swedish
party then urged Christina to attend the conference. She however turned
a deaf ear to their entreaties, and sent off a despatch at once to
Dantzic begging for aid against King Christiern; so the conference began
without her. As a preliminary, Krumpen produced a document from the king
of Denmark empowering him to offer terms of peace. This done, a
proposition to declare allegiance to King Christiern was at once brought
forward; and at the instance of Gustaf Trolle and the other
Danish-minded magnates present, the proposal was finally accepted,
though not until Krumpen had consented to certain terms on which the
patriots insisted. These terms were that all past offences against the
Danish crown should be forgiven, that all fiefs hitherto granted to
their fellow-countrymen should be preserved, and that Sweden should
continue to be governed in accordance with her ancient laws and customs.
The document reciting these terms was issued on the 6th of March, and on
the 31st it was confirmed by Christiern.[40]
The main body of the Swedish nation being thus again in the hand of
Denmark, it was expected that Christina would no longer dare to offer
resistance. It was therefore resolved to approach her once more upon the
subject. An armed body of some three thousand men was despatched
forthwith to Stockholm, a couple of ambassadors being sent ahead to
invite Christina to a conference outside the town. The reception which
they met was such as to convince them that the regent's widow possessed,
at any rate, a portion of her husband's courage. No sooner did they near
the capital than the portcullis was raised and a volley fired upon them
from within the walls. Thus discomfited, the ambassadors withdrew, and
Krumpen, having insufficient forces to undertake a siege, returned to
Upsala, and the Swedish forces that had joined him retired to their
homes.[41]
Christina was thus afforded a short respite in which to gather strength.
The bravery and determination which she had displayed, even from the
moment of her husband's death, already began to inspire confidence among
the people. Most of the great men in the realm, intimidated by the
threats or allured by the promises of Krumpen, had sworn allegiance to
the king of Denmark. But the chief castles were still held by the
patriots, and throughout the land there was a strong undercurrent of
feeling against the Danes. In most parts the people were only waiting to
see which way the wind was going to blow, and for the time being it
seemed likely to blow in favor of the Swedes. The regent's widow used
every effort to rouse the people from their lethargy, and with
increased success. All winter long the king of Denmark was burning to
send reinforcements, and dickering with the Powers of Europe to obtain
the necessary funds. But his credit was bad, and it was only with great
difficulty that he at last despatched a body of some fifteen hundred
men. Christina, on the other hand, was being reinforced by the Hanse
Towns along the Baltic, and in the early spring the current of sentiment
had set so strongly in her favor that a plot was formed to drive off the
Danish troops beleaguering the Castle of Vesteras, on the Maelar. So soon
as this plot reached the ears of the Danish leader, he resolved to break
the siege and hurry off to join the forces of Krumpen at Upsala. He did
so; but he did so none too soon. He found his path beset by the
peasantry lying in ambush in the woods, and before he succeeded in
pushing through them, he was led into a bloody battle from which the
patriots came off victorious, though their leader fell.[42]
Emboldened by this success, Christina now sent a messenger among the
peasantry to collect a force with which to attack the Danish army in
Upsala. In a short space of time he had gathered a strong band of
peasantry and miners, with whom, reinforced by a detachment from
Stockholm, he marched forward to Upsala. As the patriots approached the
town, a squad stationed by Krumpen outside the walls descried them and
sounded the alarm. This was on Good Friday, April 6, 1520, and Krumpen
was in the cathedral when the news arrived. Without delay he hurried
forth and gave orders that every man, both horse and foot, should gird
on his armor and assemble in the square. As soon as they had come
together, he led them outside the town and drew up his line of battle
close beneath the walls. In front of this line he formed a solid
phalanx, with a wing on either side composed of horse and foot. Still
farther ahead he placed his catapults, with the largest of which he
opened fire first, the sharpshooters at the same time picking off the
enemy. The sky was heavily overcast, and at the very beginning of the
battle a driving storm with rain and sleet came beating down in the
faces of the Danes, thus blinding them. Their cavalry, too, was almost
useless; for the ground was covered with melting snow, which formed in
great cakes under the horses' hoofs, and soon sent horses and riders
sprawling on the ground. The patriots, however, being without cavalry or
muskets, suffered little from the rain. They were not slow to take
advantage of the opportunity thus afforded them, and pressed forward
madly on the left wing until finally it began to yield. The
standard-bearer, half frozen, was about to drop the standard, when a
Danish veteran rushed forward, seized it from his hands, and fixed it in
the nearest fence, at the same time shouting: "Forward, my men! Remember
your own and your fathers' valor! Shall this standard of your country
fall unstained into the hands of the enemy?" At these words the company
rallied and, hacking at the hands of the patriots who strove to pluck
the standard from the fence, compelled them to withdraw. This company
then joined the others, and a long and bitter conflict followed, the two
armies fighting face to face. At length, as soon as the snow began to be
well packed, the Danish cavalry came to the front once more, and after a
series of violent charges, broke in two places through the enemy's
ranks. The patriots, now cut into three distinct bodies, fled in wild
despair. One body of them was surrounded and massacred on the spot.
Another fled to a brick-kiln near at hand, hoping thus to be sheltered
from the fury of the Danes. But they were pursued, the whole place was
set on fire, and all who issued from it were put to the sword. The third
portion of the Swedes fled in terror to the river, but many of them
weighted down by their arms were drowned. Thus ended a fearful battle.
The snow was literally drenched with blood. Of the Swedes, who numbered
30,000, it is said two thirds were killed; while the Danes, 8,000
strong, lost half.[43]
After this fearful slaughter both parties were for the nonce more
cautious. Messengers were sent by each throughout the land to gain
recruits, but they were careful to avoid a general conflict. Skirmishes
and trickery were the order of the day. The patriots were frittering
away their chances for lack of a leader, and Krumpen was waiting for the
arrival of King Christiern. This was delayed only till the breaking of
the ice. Towards the close of April, 1520, Christiern set sail with a
large fleet for Sweden, having on board the Archbishop of Lund and some
other influential prelates, to lend to his expedition the aspect of a
religious crusade. Proceeding first to Kalmar, he called upon the castle
to surrender, but in vain. Seeing that his only mode of reducing the
castle was by siege, he resolved for the present to give it up, and
after issuing a broadside to the people of Vestergoetland, summoning them
to a conference to be held a month later, on the 3d of June, he advanced
to Stockholm and dropped anchor just outside the town. This was on the
27th of May, four days before the landing of Gustavus Vasa on the
Swedish coast.[44]
The arrival of Gustavus Vasa marks an epoch in the history of Sweden. It
is the starting-point of one of the most brilliant and successful
revolutions that the world has ever known. Other political upheavals
have worked quite as great results, and in less time. But rarely if ever
has a radical change in a nation's development been so unmistakably the
work of a single hand,--and that, too, the hand of a mere youth of
four-and-twenty. The events immediately preceding the return of Gustavus
prove conclusively, if they prove anything, how impotent are mere
numbers without a leader. For years the whole country had been almost
continuously immersed in blood. One moment the peasantry were all in
arms, burning to avenge their wrongs, and the next moment, just on the
eve of victory, they scattered, each satisfied with promises that his
wrongs would be redressed and willing to let other persons redress their
own. What was needed above all else was a feeling of national unity and
strength; and it was this feeling that from the very outset the young
Gustavus sought to instil in the minds of the Swedish people. As we now
follow him in his romantic wanderings through dreary forest and over ice
and snow and even down into the bowels of the earth, we shall observe
that the one idea which more than any other filled his mind was the idea
of a united Swedish nation. At first we shall find this idea laughed at
as visionary, and its promoter driven to the far corners of the land.
But before three years are over, we shall see a Swedish nation already
rising from the dust, until at last it takes a high place in the
firmament of European powers.
The memorable soil on which Gustavus disembarked lay two miles south of
Kalmar; and he hurried to the town without delay. Kalmar was at this
time, next to Stockholm, the strongest town in Sweden. Lying on two or
three small islands, it was guarded from the mainland by several narrow
streams, while on the east it was made secure through a stupendous
castle from attack by sea. This castle was at the time in charge of the
widow of the last commandant, and was strongly garrisoned, as was also
the town below, with mercenaries from abroad. On entering the town
Gustavus was received with kindness by the burghers, and sought in every
way to rouse their drooping spirits. He even approached the German
soldiers with a view to inspire comfort in their souls. But his words of
courage fell on stony ground. It is the nature of mercenaries to fight
like madmen when the prospect of reward is bright, but no sooner does a
cloud gather on the horizon, than they throw down their arms and begin
to clamor for their pay. Such at that moment was the state of things in
Kalmar. Christiern, backed by the leading powers of Europe, and upheld
in his expedition by the authority of Rome, had just arrived in Sweden
with a powerful army, and was now lying at anchor in the harbor of the
capital. The Swedish forces, broken in many places and without a leader,
were gradually scattering to their homes. The cloud that had long been
gathering over the head of Sweden seemed about to burst. The future was
already black, and a listening ear could easily catch the mutterings of
the approaching storm. The Kalmar mercenaries therefore were only
irritated by the importunities of the youthful refugee, and it was only
through the intercession of the burghers that he was saved from violence
and allowed to leave the town.[45]
To revisit the scenes of his boyhood and his father's house was no
longer possible. The brave Sten Sture, from whose palace he had been
stolen two years since, was lying beneath the sod; and Stockholm, held
by the young man's aunt Christina, was in a state of siege. All access
to her or to the capital would have been at the peril of his life. He
therefore; renounced for the time being his desire to see his family,
and proceeded stealthily to approach the capital by land. His way lay
first across the dreary moors and swamps of Smaland. Here he went from
house to house, inciting the peasantry to rebel. Among others he sought
out some of his father's tenants, in the hope that they at least would
hear him. But he found them all sunk in lethargy, cowering under the
sword of Christiern. His voice was truly the voice of one crying in the
wilderness. The golden hope of lifting his country out of her misery
seemed shattered at a blow. Instead of being received with open arms as
a deliverer, he was jeered at in every town, and finally so bitter grew
the public sentiment against him that he was forced to flee. Hardly
daring to show his face lest he should be shot down by the soldiers of
the king, he betook himself to a farm owned by his father on the south
shore of the Maelar. Here he remained in secrecy through the summer,
hoping for better times,--an unwilling witness of the subjugation of his
land,--till finally he was driven from his refuge by an act of
Christiern so revolting in its villany that it made the whole of Europe
shudder.[46]
Christiern, on the 27th of May, was riding at anchor in the harbor of
the capital. Among his men was Hemming Gad, over the spirit of whose
dream had come a vast change since his capture some eighteen months
before. Just when this change began, or how it was effected, is unknown.
But already, in March of 1520, the report had spread through Sweden that
Gad had turned traitor to his native land, and we find him writing to
the people of Stockholm to tell them that he and they had done
Christiern wrong, and begging them to reconcile themselves to Christiern
as he had done. Gad was a statesman,--a word synonymous in those days
with charlatan,--and he did not hesitate to leave his falling comrades
in order to join the opposite party on the road to power. Doubtless
Christiern took care that he lost nothing by his change of colors, and
doubtless it was with a view to aid himself that he brought Gad back to
Sweden.[47]
No sooner did Christiern arrive off Stockholm than Krumpen came with
Archbishop Trolle from Upsala, to receive him. They held a council of
war on board the fleet, and resolved to lay siege once more to
Stockholm. The capital was by this time well supplied with food; but the
summer had only just begun, and Christiern thought by using strict
precautions to starve the town ere winter. Pitching his camp along the
shore both north and south, and blockading the harbor on the east, he
sent messengers through the land to enlist the peasantry in his cause.
Many of them he propitiated by a generous distribution of salt which he
had brought with him from Denmark. Things, however, were not entirely to
his taste. Christina too had ambassadors inciting the people to revolt.
On the 27th of June a large body of the patriots laid siege to the
palace of the bishop of Linkoeping. About the same time also the
monastery of Mariefred, inhabited by the old archbishop Ulfsson, was
threatened; and a throng of peasants marched to Strengnaes to burn and
plunder. How crude the patriot forces at this time were is apparent from
a letter from a Danish officer to Krumpen, in which it is said that out
of a body of about three thousand only one hundred and fifty were
skilled soldiers. Christiern finally deemed it best to send a force to
Vesteras to storm the castle. This was done, the castle fell, and the
officer in command was taken prisoner. It was now August, and the
Stockholmers, no aid thus far having come to them from abroad, were
losing heart. In this state of things the king sent Gad and others
inside the walls to urge the people to surrender. Christina and her
sturdy burghers received the messengers with scorn; but the magnates,
already more than half inclined to yield, vehemently advocated the
proposal. Soon the whole town was in an uproar. A riot followed, and
some blood was shed. But at last Christina and her adherents yielded,
and delegates were sent outside the town to parley. After several days
of bickering it was agreed that Stockholm should be surrendered on the
7th of September next, but on the other hand that all hostility to
Christiern and to his fathers, as well as to Archbishop Trolle and the
other prelates, should be forgiven.[48]
Two days later, on the 7th of September, the burgomasters crossed over
in a body to Soedermalm, and delivered the keys of the city gates into
the hands of Christiern. Then, with bugles sounding and all the pomp and
ceremony of a triumph, he marched at the head of his army through the
city walls and up to the Great Church, where he offered thanksgiving to
Almighty God. That over, he proceeded to the citadel and took
possession. The same day and the day following he obtained two
documents,--one from the Cabinet members then in Stockholm, and the
other from the burgomaster and Council,--granting the castle to
Christiern during his life, and at his death to his son Hans, or, if he
should die before the king, then to the king's wife Elizabeth, to
revert, after the death of all three, to the Cabinet of Sweden.
Christiern then appointed his officers throughout the country, after
which he sailed away for Denmark.[49]
Not long, however, was Sweden freed from his contaminating presence.
Within a month he had returned, breathing out threatenings and slaughter
against the nation that he had vanquished. A general diet had been
summoned to meet at Stockholm on the first day of November. As this diet
was to be immediately followed by the coronation of the king, special
efforts had been made to secure a large attendance of the Danish party.
The venerable Ulfsson, now tottering to the grave, had recently written
to Christiern that he would be present at the triumphal entry into
Stockholm, "even if," as he says, "I have to crawl upon my knees;" and
he was present at the diet. When the appointed day arrived, the
delegates were summoned to a hill outside the town, and were shut in on
every side by the pikes and rapiers of the royal soldiers. The
proceedings were cut and dried throughout. A pompous oration was
delivered by one of the king's satellites, declaring the grounds on
which his master claimed the throne of Sweden, at the close of which the
people were asked whether they would have him for their king, and with
their tyrants' weapons brandished before their eyes they answered yes.
With this elaborate farce the ceremony ended and the people scattered,
being first ordered to return on the following Sunday and share in the
coronation festivities of the king whom they had thus elected against
their will. The ostentatious mummery of these mock ceremonies would
cause a smile but for the frightful tragedy with which they were to
close. None but the blindest partisans could have felt anything else
than aversion for this monster on whose head they were to place the
crown. Even his own friends hated him, and despised the very ground on
which he trod. But it was the age of heaven-born rulers; so the masses
bent their knee and sang their paeans to the demon whom fate had made
their king.[50]
It was on the 4th of November--a dreary Sunday--that the tragedy began.
On that day, with a great flourish of trumpets and display of power, the
monarch proceeded to the Great Church to be crowned. The huge edifice
was filled to overflowing. From north and south, from mountain and
valley, all of note in the three kingdoms had flocked thither on this
day to behold the imposing spectacle. Gustaf Trolle, now once more
archbishop, stood at the high altar, lined on either side by the six
Swedish bishops and the Upsala Chapter. The whole chancel was one blaze
of gold and silver; and as the king marched through the main aisle with
his splendid retinue, every eye was bent upon him and every whisper
hushed. Proceeding straight up to the high altar, he bent his knee
before the God whose name he was now so soon to desecrate. Then the
archbishop raised from the altar a crown of gold glittering with
precious jewels, and placed it reverently upon the monarch's brow. The
sacred rite of consecration over, the monarch rose and turning was met
by a herald of Charles V., who came from his master bringing a fleece
which he attached with chains of gold around the monarch's neck, thus
receiving him into the great Burgundian League. After this, a throne was
placed before the altar, and Christiern conferred the order of
knighthood on Krumpen and some of his other officers. It was observed,
however, that all thus honored were of Danish birth. With this the
ceremony of consecration closed, and the whole concourse poured forth
once more from the house of God.[51]
During three days the whole town now was given over to mirth and
merrymaking. These days seem like the lull that goes before a storm. All
strife was ended, all past injuries forgotten. The future seemed full of
promise, and the Swedish peasants went hurrying back to their firesides
to tell their wives and children of the peace and blessings promised
them by Christiern. But it was not yet. Scarce had the echo of warfare
died upon the wind when a frightful tragedy took place in Stockholm
which sent a thrill of horror to the heart of Europe. At noon on the
Wednesday following the coronation all the Swedish magnates with the
authorities of Stockholm were summoned to the citadel and ushered into
the august presence of their king. As they ranged themselves about the
great hall, the nobles and their wives, all wondering what this dismal
summons meant, they heard the castle gates grate upon their hinges, and
a cold shudder gradually spread among them, as the thought now flashed
upon them for the first time that they were no longer free. They had
been decoyed by the fulsome promises of their ruler into the trap which
he had laid. The noose was already tightening around their necks. Before
them, on the throne hallowed by memories of former rulers, sat their
tyrant, grim and lowering. Not a trace of mercy was visible in his
features. Through a long pause, awful in its uncertainty, they waited,
the cold sweat fast gathering on their brows. At length the pause was
ended. Archbishop Trolle, chuckling at the near prospect of his revenge,
stepped forward and addressed the throne. He began by portraying in
ardent language the sufferings he had undergone. He declared that the
cathedral at Upsala had been plundered while he was being besieged in
Staeket. He dwelt at great length on the wrong which had been done him in
the destruction of his castle. He drew attention to the conspiracy
entered into against him by certain of the magnates, and their united
oath never again to recognize him as archbishop. Finally, he denounced
the conspirators by name, and called upon the king to visit them with
the punishment which they deserved. At this Christina was summoned
before the throne and asked for an explanation of her husband's conduct.
She was at first struck dumb with terror; then, recovering herself, she
pleaded that her husband had been no more guilty than the other
conspirators, as would appear from the document which they all had
signed. Christiern, learning for the first time of this document,
demanded that it be produced. When this was done, and the king had
examined it to his heart's content, he gave it to his clerk to copy, and
called on each of the signers in turn to answer for his act. Christiern
with his Cabinet then withdrew, leaving the patriot leaders in the great
hall guarded by a body of Danish soldiers. At dusk two Danish officers
entered with lanterns, "like Judas Iscariot" says a contemporary, and
the doomed magnates were led out to the tower and thrown into prison to
await the morn. When day broke, Christiern ordered the trumpets sounded
and proclamation made that no citizen should leave his house. About noon
the condemned patriots were led from their dungeons to the Grand Square,
and huddled together beneath the platform on which they were to bleed.
The citizens had by this time been permitted to leave their houses and
had gathered around the foot of the scaffold, from which they were
addressed in soothing language by several of the Danish Cabinet, whose
words however were interrupted by constant cries of the victims calling
on their fellow-countrymen to avenge them. At last the agony of suspense
was over. One after another the condemned mounted the scaffold and were
decapitated with all the refinement of cruelty that the bloodthirsty
monarch and his satellites could devise. Over seventy in all were
slaughtered, and their gory bodies piled up in one promiscuous mass in
the centre of the square. On the following day the scene of carnage was
renewed, several suspected citizens being seized in their houses and
dragged to the place of blood. One poor wretch was executed for no other
reason than because he was discovered weeping at the sight of his
friends' death. Not till the following Saturday was the carnage over and
the weltering mass conveyed outside the town. The body of Sture,
together with the body of one of his babes, was dug up by Christiern's
orders and burned, and the property of all who were slaughtered was
seized and confiscated. Having thus effected his diabolical purpose and
ridded himself of the flower of the Swedish patriots, the gory monarch
set his officers at the head of affairs, and taking Christina and her
two boys with him, marched through the land to Denmark, where he threw
Christina and her children into prison.[52]
Through all that summer and autumn Gustavus Vasa had been cooped up in
his hiding-place on the Maelar. Once, in peril of his life, he had
approached the venerable Archbishop Ulfsson and solicited his advice.
But he found little comfort there. Ulfsson urged him to go boldly to
Christiern and beg for mercy. He even offered to intercede for the young
man, and encouraged him with the assertion that he had been included
among those to whom the king had promised immunity at the surrender of
Christina. Gustavus, however, knew too well what reliance he could place
on Christiern's word. With a downcast spirit he went back to his
hiding-place, resolved to await further developments before he ventured
forth. It was a time of harrowing suspense, the iron entering into his
very soul. Each day brought new intelligence of the victories of
Christiern and the gradual dismemberment of the Swedish forces. His
hopes were already well-nigh shattered when the report was wafted across
the lake that his father, along with the other patriot leaders, had been
slaughtered in the capital. Horror-stricken and overwhelmed with grief,
he sprang to his feet, resolved to brave death rather than prolong this
agony. Buckling on his sword, he mounted one of his father's steeds, and
set forth for the north, filled with the dream of rescuing his native
land. It was near the 25th of November, and the scenery was well in
keeping with the dreary thoughts that flooded the horseman's mind. The
stern gnarled oaks along the wayside, twisting their leafless boughs
athwart the sky, seemed as perverse as the Swedes whom he had vainly
sought to rouse. Even the frosty soil beneath him, unyielding to his
tread, recalled the apathy with which his fellow-countrymen had listened
to his cries. Had he been fired solely by a love of Sweden, he would
very likely long ere this have renounced his hopeless task. But a
selfish purpose kept him in the path. He was a pariah, hunted down by
his enemies, and driven through sheer necessity to play the patriot. It
was liberty or death. And so he pushed on, resolved to mingle among the
hardy mountaineers of Dalarne, and strive at all hazards to rouse the
flagging pulses of their hearts.[53]
Crossing Lake Maelar about four miles from his father's house, Gustavus
hurried through the forests north of the lake with all the speed that a
patriot's zeal could lend. To one companioned by happier thoughts the
journey in those late autumn days must have been filled with delight.
Dalarne, through which his journey lay, is the paradise of Sweden. As
its name imports, it is "the land of valleys." The whole province stands
high above the sea, rising higher as we travel farther north. The hills
which separate the valleys are mostly crowned with pine and fir, and
down their sides run broad and gently sloping fields. Here and there the
scenery is varied by a little hamlet nestling along the hillside. Little
lakes, too, dot the surface of the land, and tiny brooks go babbling
across the fields. One stream, famous in Swedish history, bisects the
district from north to south, passing through various lakes, and finally
pours its waters into the Baltic. This tortuous river, called the
Dalelf, is in some places broad and majestic, while in others it is
narrow and goes foaming like a cataract over the rocks. Along the banks
of this stream Gustavus traced his steps, making first for a village on
Lake Runn, where an old Upsala schoolmate dwelt. Here he arrived some
five days after he left his father's house, and presenting himself in
peasant's dress was given refuge. However, he declared to no one who he
was, probably wishing first to learn how his host and others were
affected towards the king. While yet uncertain what course he should
pursue, one of the servants noticed that he wore a gold-embroidered
shirt, and told her master; and this, coupled with his language and
general appearance, led to his discovery. He thereupon appealed to his
old schoolfellow to shield him from his enemies, but in vain. The danger
was too great; and though full of sympathy for the young refugee, he
told him he must leave the place. Thus once more an outcast, Gustavus
hurriedly skirted the south shore of the lake, and after a narrow escape
by breaking through the ice, reached the house of another schoolmate,
who offered him protection and then went off to inform the Danish
officers. From this catastrophe Gustavus was rescued by a warning from
his betrayer's wife, and had fled ere the officers appeared. His next
asylum was some twenty miles farther north, where he found protection at
the hands of the parish priest. The king's officers were now upon the
scent. The whole province was alive to the fact that it was harboring
within its borders the regent's ward. The strictest vigilance was
therefore necessary in order to save his life. So the priest kept him
but a week, and then hurried him some thirty miles farther through the
woods to Raettvik, a hillside village at the eastern extremity of Lake
Siljan. There he tarried several days, talking with the peasantry, and
urging them to rebel against the tyranny of their Danish ruler. He was
now on ground to be ever afterwards famous in Swedish history. Here for
the first time his words were heard with some degree of favor. The proud
spirits of these mountain peasants had been already often roused by
evidences of foreign usurpation, and it needed little to induce them to
rebel. But their isolated position in a measure saved them from the
burdens of the Danish yoke, and they answered they could venture nothing
till they had held a conference with their neighbors. The disheartened
outlaw therefore set forth once more. He traversed the icy meadows that
lie along the eastern side of Lake Siljan, and after a journey of about
twenty-five miles reached the village of Mora, lying at the head of the
lake. It was on Christmas day that he addressed the people of this
village. Knowing this to be his last hope of success, he took his stand
on an elevated mound, and gazed over the white fields, dotted here and
there with little hamlets, and to the snow-clad hills beyond. The
surroundings added even to the zeal with which his own needs made him
speak. He portrayed in burning terms the wrongs and insults that had
been heaped upon the Swedish people. He alluded to his own affliction
and to the general scene of carnage that had taken place in Stockholm.
He pictured the evils in store for the proud highlanders before him, and
appealed to them in the name of Almighty God to join him in a war for
liberty. But all this eloquence was wasted. His appeal struck no
responsive chord. The people flatly refused to give him their
assistance. He had, therefore, but one course left. With no further hope
of keeping his whereabouts unknown, he hastened with all speed from the
town, and fled over the ice-bound hills of the west, to seek a last
asylum in the wilds of Norway.[54]
Black indeed were the clouds now gathering over the head of Sweden. Even
the liberty-loving province of Dalarne had refused to strike a blow for
freedom. Soon, it seemed, the whole of Sweden would be groaning under
the burden of a foreign despotism. Yet such an issue was by the design
of Providence to be averted. But a few days after the flight of Gustavus
out of Mora news arrived that Christiern was preparing a journey through
the land, and had ordered a gallows to be raised in every province.
Rumor was rife, too, with new taxes soon to be imposed. Nor was it long
before a messenger arrived who confirmed the words of Gustavus as to the
cruelties in Stockholm, and added further that there were many magnates
throughout the realm who not only had not bowed the knee to Christiern,
but had declared that rather than do so they would die with sword in
hand. Then the blood of the villagers of Mora boiled within them.
Post-haste, and trembling lest it were now too late, they put men on the
track of the young fugitive with orders to push on by day and night and
not rest till they had found Gustavus and brought him back. They found
him on the very frontier of Norway, and announced to him that their
people were ready to join his banner and with him pour out their blood
for freedom. With a joyous heart he turned about and hurried back to
Mora. The whole province was now awake. Raettvik had already had a
conflict with a body of Danish horsemen; and when the outcast hero
appeared once more at Mora, he found a vast throng of peasants flocking
from every side to join his ranks. By common consent he was chosen to be
their leader and a body of sixteen stout highlanders selected to be his
guard. This was in the early days of 1521. The perseverance of the
stanch young outlaw was rewarded, and the supremacy of Gustavus Vasa had
begun.[55]
FOOTNOTES:
[36] Svaning, _Christ. II._, p. 387; and Svart, _Gust. I.'s kroen._, p.
8.
[37] Rensel, _Beraettelse_, p. 17; Svaning, _Christ. II._, pp. 387-388;
and Svart, _Gust. I.'s kroen._, pp. 8-9.
[38] _Svenska medeltid. rim-kroen._, vol. iii. pp. 210-212; Olaus Petri,
_Svenska kroen._, pp. 316-317; Johannes Magni, _De omn. Goth._, p. 780;
Svaning, _Christ. II._, pp. 173, 279, and 281-299; and Laurent. Petri,
_Then Svenska chroen._, p. 144.
[39] _Ibid._
[40] Olaus Petri, _Svenska kroen._, pp. 318-320; Johannes Magni, _De omn.
Goth._, p. 781; Svaning, _Christ. II._, pp. 299-315; Laurent. Petri,
_Then Svenska chroen._, p. 145; _Bidrag till Skand. hist._, vol. v. pp.
618-623; and _Kongl. och furst. foerlijkn._, pp. 437-440.
[41] Olaus Petri, _Svenska kroen._, pp. 320-321; and Svaning, _Christ.
II._, pp. 316-320.
[42] Olaus Petri, _Svenska kroen._, pp. 321-322; Svaning, _Christ. II._,
pp. 320-329; Laurent. Petri, _Then Svenska chroen._, p. 145; _Christ.
II.'s arkiv_, vol. i. pp. 147-152; and _Nya Kaellor till Finl.
Medeltidshist._, pp. 704-705.
[43] Olaus Petri, _Svenska kroen._, pp. 322-323; Svaning, _Christ. II._,
pp. 330-341; Laurent. Petri, _Then Svenska chroen._, p. 145; and _Bidrag
till Skand. hist._, vol. v. pp. 631-632.
[44] Olaus Petri, _Svenska kroen._, p. 323; Svaning, _Christ. II._, pp.
341-353; Laurent. Petri, _Then Svenska chroen._, pp. 145-146; _Bidrag
till Skand. hist._, vol. v. pp. 632-634; _Christ. II.'s arkiv._, vol. i.
pp. 152-153; _Dipl. Dal._, vol. i. pp. 231-235; and _Kongl. och furst.
foerlijkn._, pp. 440-442.
[45] Svart, _Gust. I.'s kroen._, p. 9.
[46] Svart, _Gust. I.'s kroen._, pp. 9-10.
[47] _Bidrag till Skand. hist._, vol. v. pp. 624-627.
[48] Olaus Petri, _Svenska kroen._, pp. 323-326; Svaning, _Christ. II._,
pp. 353-362; Laurent. Petri, _Then Svenska chroen._, p. 146; Ludvigsson,
_Collect._, p. 87; _Bidrag till Skand. hist._, vol. v. pp. 637-648;
_Dipl. Dal._, vol. i. pp. 235-236; _Kongl. och furst. foerlijkn._, pp.
444-450; and _Nya Kaellor till Finl. Medeltidshist._, pp. 705-708.
[49] Olaus Petri, _Svenska kroen._, p. 326; Svaning, _Christ. II._, p.
362; Laurent. Petri, _Then Svenska chroen._, p. 146; _Acta hist. Reg.
Christ. II._, pp. 3-4; and _Christ. II.'s arkiv_, vol. i. pp. 153-157.
[50] Olaus Petri, _Svenska kroen._, pp. 326-327; Svaning, _Christ. II._,
pp. 363-366; and Laurent. Petri, _Then Svenska chroen._, p. 147.
[51] Olaus Petri, _Svenska kroen._, pp. 327-328; Svaning, _Christ. II._,
pp. 366-369; and Laurent. Petri, _Then Svenska chroen._, pp. 147-148.
[52] _Svenska medeltid. rim-kroen._, vol. iii. pp. 218-219 and 233-234;
Eliesen, _Chron. Skib._ p. 569; Olaus Petri, _Svenska kroen._, pp.
328-334; Johannes Magni, _De omn. Goth._, p. 781; Olaus Magni, _Hist. de
gent. Sept._, p. 612; Svaning, _Christ. II._, pp. 369-384; Laurent.
Petri, _Then Svenska chroen._, pp. 148-150; and _Handl. roer. Skand.
hist._, vol. ii. pp. 1-12.
[53] Svart, _Gust. I.'s kroen._, pp. 10-12.
[54] Svart, _Gust. I.'s kroen._, pp. 12-15.
[55] Svart, _Gust. I.'s kroen._, pp. 15-17.