The Swedish Revolution Under Gustavus Vasa

by Paul Barron Watson

BEGINNINGS OF THE REFORMATION. 1523-1524.

Nature of the Reformation in Europe.—Cause of the Reformation in Sweden.—The Debt to Lubeck.—Riches of the Church.—Relations of Gustavus to the Pope.—Johannes Magni.—New Taxation—Dissension among the People.—Opposition of Gustavus to the Pope.—Trial of Peder Sunnanväder.—Expedition against Gotland.—Repudiation of the "Klippings."—Berent von Mehlen.—Negotiations between Fredrik and Norby.—Congress of Malmö.—Efforts to appease the People.—Lutheranism.—Olaus Petri.—Laurentius Andreæ.—Brask's Efforts to repress Heresy.—Religious Tendencies of Gustavus.—Character of Brask.

WE have now reached that point in our narrative where the history of modern Sweden takes its start. With the close of the war of independence those features which mark the face of mediæval Sweden disappear, and a wholly new countenance gradually settles upon the land. Nor is this transformation peculiar in any way to Sweden. Early in the sixteenth century all Europe was passing from mediæval into modern history. In the Middle Ages there was but one criterion for every question that arose, and that criterion was the past. Whatever had been, should continue. All Church dogmas were settled by an appeal to the ancient Fathers; all political aspirations were fought out on the basis of descent. Tradition was the god of mediæval Europe. At last, however, questions arose for which tradition had no answer. On the Renaissance in Italy, on the invention of printing and of gunpowder, on the discovery of America, the ancient Fathers had not spoken. On these things, therefore, which raised the greatest questions of the age, men had nothing for it but to do their thinking for themselves. The practice thus evoked soon spread to other questions, and gradually men grew bold enough to venture opinions on certain stereotyped matters of religion. As all the world knows, the Reformation followed, and from an age of blind acceptance Europe passed to an age of eager controversy. Instead of searching to find out what had been, men argued to determine what it was desirable should be. If tradition was the characteristic of mediæval, policy is the characteristic of modern, history. Some old dogmas, like the divine right of kings, still linger; but since the fifteenth century kings have had little chance whose claims conflict with the balance of European power.

The beginnings of modern history are inextricably bound up with the beginnings of the Reformation. It is a common belief that the Reformation in Europe worked a radical change in the doctrines of religious men, raising up two parties with diametrically opposing creeds. Such a conception, however, is misleading. The Reformation was not so much a religious as a political revolt. It was the natural outcome of a growth in the power of northern Germany at a moment when Rome was losing her political prestige. The alliance between the German Empire and the popes of Rome had its origin in a need of mutual assistance. Western Europe consisted, at the accession of Charlemagne, of many independent principalities at war among themselves, and what they needed was a powerful protector to adjust their various disputes. Later this need of a protector became still more urgent, when Germany and France fell under different rulers, and the German Empire began to be threatened by the monarchy across the Rhine. Rome, by reason of her spiritual supremacy, was the arbiter to whom the northern nations naturally turned, and she found ready recompense for her services in the treasures poured generously into her lap. Such was the basis of the Holy Roman Empire. But by the beginning of the sixteenth century all this had changed. Germany was no longer weak. Her little principalities had become cemented together under an emperor well able to repel every invasion of the French. Society had made vast progress, not only in its comforts, but in its demands. Rome, on the other hand, had lost her prestige. In Italy, where the brutality and licentiousness of the popes were open to every eye, people had long since lost all reverence for the Church. This feeling did not spread readily across the Alps; but it came at last, and at a moment when Germany no longer needed aid. A nation guarded by the strong arm of Maximilian could ill brook new levies to feed the extravagance of its decrepit ally, and the infamous practices of Tetzel served as a timely pretext to shake off the burdensome alliance of the papal see. The abuses of popery were little more than a war-cry, while the real struggle of the Reformation was against the political supremacy of Rome.

In Sweden, more than in almost any other land, the Reformation was a political revolt. Indeed, it may well be called a political necessity. At the moment when Gustavus Vasa was elected king, Sweden was on the verge of bankruptcy. The war just passed had drained the resources of the country, and left her heavily involved in debt. The principal creditor was Lubeck. Precisely how much had been borrowed from that town it is impossible to determine, though it is certain the total amount fell not far short of 300,000 Swedish marks.[74] One payment of about 17,000 Swedish marks Gustavus had made in 1522.[75] This of course was a mere drop in the bucket, and other devices were necessary to relieve the general distress. One favorite device, to which allusion has been already made, consisted in a debasement of the currency. That device, however, had soon lost its savor, and the coin which in 1522 Gustavus had issued for an öre and a half, he was forced in 1523 to place upon the market as an öre.[76] So that when the new monarch ascended the throne it was manifest that the treasury must be replenished in other modes. The natural direction was that in which the greatest wealth of Sweden lay,—in other words, the Church. We have already seen how completely, in the centuries preceding the Reformation, the Church in Sweden had freed herself from all authority of the people, and had gradually accumulated for herself a vast amount of wealth. Some conception of this treasure may be had by comparing the edifices belonging to the Church with those owned by individuals. Such a comparison reveals at once an enormous disparity in favor of the Church. At a time when well-to-do citizens dwelt in what would at this day be known as hovels, they worshipped in churches that must have seemed to them palatial. The six cathedrals that existed in the time of Gustavus still remain, and even at this day compare favorably with the finest structures in the land. In addition to a magnificent palace, the archbishop and the five Swedish bishops each possessed a fortified castle in his diocese. In each diocese, too, there were an enormous number of estates belonging to the bishopric; those in the diocese of Linköping, for example, numbering over six hundred. The rents and profits from these estates went directly to the bishopric, and were wholly exempt from taxation, as were also the untold treasures of gold and silver belonging to the various churches. Beside all this tithes of every species of farm produce raised in any part of Sweden were due the Church, also tithes of all other personal property acquired. Further, a small annual tax was due the Church for every building in the land from a palace to a pig-sty; also a fee for every wedding, death, or childbirth. No one could inherit property, or even take the sacrament, without a contribution to the Church. And every peasant was bound one day each year to labor for his pastor without reward.[77] How all this money was disbursed, seems difficult to comprehend. Some clew, however, may be gained when we consider what a vast horde of clergy the Swedish people had to feed. Take, for example, the cathedrals. Most of them formed a little hierarchy in themselves. First of all was the archbishop or the bishop, who lived in regal splendor. Around him was his chapter, comprising in one instance as many as thirty canons. Then there was the archdeacon, the cantor, the scholasticus, and some thirty or forty prebends. This little army of Church officers required to be fed, and fed well—and the people of Sweden had to pay the bill. It was but natural, therefore, that, Sweden being heavily involved in debt, the monarch should seek to stay this wasteful extravagance and divert a portion of the Church incomes to the crown.

By the war of independence the way had been already paved for a war against the Church. Christiern had declared himself the champion of the pope; and the higher clergy, as vicegerents of the pope in Sweden, had generally allied themselves with the foreign party. So that the rebellion had been in large measure directed against the authorities of the Church itself, and the victory of Gustavus was felt distinctly as a victory over the powers of the Church. The Chapter of Upsala had therefore deemed it policy to please Gustavus, and were talking of electing his chancellor archbishop in place of Trolle, who had fled the realm. For a like reason the Chapter of Vesterås had chosen a former secretary of Sture to their vacant bishopric. The bishoprics of Strengnäs and Skara, made vacant by the expulsion of the Danes, had also been filled by persons favorable to the general policy of Gustavus. So that when the new monarch assumed control, the dignitaries of the Church seemed likely to listen to his demands.[78]

It is not for a moment to be supposed that Gustavus at this time contemplated an opposition to the pope. Such an idea had been spread abroad by Christiern with a view to win sympathy in Europe; but Gustavus had written to all the potentates of Europe to deny the charge, and had sent a messenger to the pope to raise a counter charge against Christiern as the murderer of two Swedish bishops in the slaughter of 1520. The pope, already distrustful of his Danish ally, had listened favorably to the message, and in the following summer, 1523, had sent a legate to Sweden to inform him further on the subject.[79]

This papal legate, Johannes Magni, was the son of a pious burgher of Linköping, and along with his two brothers had been educated from childhood for the Church. At the age of eighteen so marvellous was his precocity that he was made a canon both of Linköping and of Skara. Later, as was the practice with scholars of that period, he continued his studies at several of the leading universities in Europe. But in spite of a sojourn of some seventeen years away from Sweden, he never ceased to keep up a fervid interest in the affairs of his native land. As soon as the atrocities of Christiern reached his ears, he made a personal visit to Pope Leo X. and denounced the practices of the Danish king. The suggestions which he offered seem to have been scorned by Leo; but in 1521 that pontiff died, and his successor, Adrian VI., listened more readily to the Swedish canon. Adrian himself was from the north of Europe, and had earlier been an instructor of Johannes in the University of Louvain. The characters of the two were not unlike. Both held strong theological opinions, and looked with dread upon all opposition to the papal power. But they were both keenly alive to the abuses that had gathered about the Church, and were eager to repress them. Johannes was peculiarly suited by nature for a work of compromise. With no ordinary talents, of untiring energy, sympathetic, generous, and conciliating, but withal imbued with an ardent love of the Church, Adrian at once discerned in him a valuable mediator. When, therefore, Gustavus wrote to Rome to defend himself against the charge of heresy, the pope selected Johannes as his legate, with instructions to proceed to Sweden and investigate the charges made against each other by Christiern and Gustavus. The legate, complying with these orders, arrived in Sweden while the diet of Strengnäs was in session. He therefore made his way directly to that town. While on the road the tidings reached him that Gustavus Vasa had been elected king. As soon as the new monarch learned of his approach, he sent for him to come before the house. There he was overwhelmed with expressions of gratitude for his past interest in the Swedish cause. In return the legate addressed the house at great length in favor of Gustavus. The impression left upon his hearers was so pleasing that the Cabinet drew up a letter to the pope requesting that Johannes be given full authority, with the bishops of Sweden, to reform the Swedish Church. In the same letter opportunity was taken to denounce the vices of Archbishop Trolle, and to beg that, he having already resigned and fled the kingdom, the pope should use his authority to have a new archbishop chosen in his stead.[80]

This document bears strong evidence of the influence of the king. Its allusion to the resignation of Archbishop Trolle was of course untrue. That prelate had fled the realm to escape the fury of his opponents, but he still looked for the restoration of Danish power and a return of his own prerogatives in the Swedish Church. The king's desire, as reflected in the letter of his Cabinet, was to secure from the pope a recognition that the archbishopric was vacant, and then to use this recognition to force the unwilling Chapter of Upsala to nominate as archbishop one who was in the interests of the king. The scheme, however, failed; for Pope Adrian died before he had had time to act, and was succeeded by a pontiff who hated everything which savored of reform.

During the first months of his reign Gustavus was made wretched by the importunate demands of Lubeck. Her ambassadors continually dogged his steps, and declared they would not leave him till every cent that Sweden owed was paid. After the fall of Kalmar the monarch needed his foreign mercenaries no longer, and would gladly have cashiered them and sent them off. But the "klippings" struck the year before had so far lost the confidence of his subjects that the soldiers refused to take them at any price at all, and Gustavus was compelled to keep his men on foot till he could obtain the silver requisite to issue better coins. The diet just dissolved had passed an act providing for the levy of new taxes to be paid in silver, and the king apparently had been given power to fix the mode in which the levy should be made. This was a matter which required skilful handling; and it is fair to say that the policy which the king pursued, if not perfectly straightforward, showed, at any rate, rare skill. Fearing lest another direct call upon the peasantry would raise an outcry, he resolved to make his application to the Church, and give her the option of surrendering a portion of her riches or of losing her prestige by laying new burdens on her devotees. With this in view he wrote first of all to Brask, and after demanding some five thousand guilders which he understood that prelate had stored away in Lubeck, he called upon him to collect four hundred marks in silver from the clergy of his diocese. He then issued a proclamation to the churches and monasteries throughout the land to send him all the chalices, patens, and ornaments that could be spared from the altars, as well as all the silver coin that could be found; and along with this he published a statement of the total amount which each diocese and monastery must provide. Two things are noticeable in this proclamation: first, it does not specify the amount which each particular church must furnish; and, secondly, it distinctly states that the sums handed over are to be deemed as loans, which he will duly acknowledge and ultimately pay in full. In his letter to Brask, on the contrary, the exact amount for which the bishop must be responsible is named, and no definite promise is given to repay it. The document seems part of a deliberate plan to crush the power of the crafty bishop. This Brask noticed, and in his reply adverted to a suspicion lest for some reason he had incurred the king's displeasure, which he would willingly avert. The simplest mode of averting the king's displeasure would have been a speedy compliance with the king's demand. For this, however, Brask had little relish. So Gustavus, two weeks later, wrote again. "We are much surprised," he said, "that you show no more concern while a weight like this rests upon the kingdom. The amount which we must raise without a moment's delay is two hundred thousand guilders, and the Lubeck ambassadors refuse point-blank to depart unless they take that sum with them. If they don't get it we fear open war, which God forbid! Therefore, by the allegiance which you owe us and the realm, we exhort you, send the four hundred marks' weight without delay." Even this appeal had no immediate effect, and after two weeks more he sent Brask another despatch. "The Lubeck ambassadors," wrote the king, "will not leave us till they get the money which we owe in Lubeck,—a vast sum. It is, therefore, of necessity that we lay this tax upon the churches and monasteries. Strain every nerve to obtain some relief for us in your diocese, especially from your churches and monasteries; the clergy we shall spare for the present." The bishop finally complied, though with an ill grace; and on the 10th of August we find Gustavus writing that he has so far satisfied the demands of Lubeck that her ambassadors have parted from him on good terms.[81]