The Swedish Revolution Under Gustavus Vasa

by Paul Barron Watson

FIRST MILITARY ADVENTURES OF GUSTAVUS; A PRISONER IN DENMARK. 1514-1519.

Description of Stockholm.—Christina Gyllenstjerna.—Hemming Gad.—Christiern II.—Gustaf Trolle.—Dissension between Sten Sture and Gustaf Trolle.—Siege of Stäket.—First Expedition of Christiern II. against Sweden.—Trial of the Archbishop.—Arcimboldo.—Second Expedition of Christiern II. against Sweden.—Capture of Gustavus Vasa.—Resignation of the Archbishop.—Hostilities of Christiern II.—Farewell of Arcimboldo.

THE old town of Stockholm was beyond all doubt the most picturesque capital in Europe. Perched on an isle of rock at the eastern extremity of Lake Mälar, it stood forth like a sentinel guarding the entrance to the heart of Sweden. Around its base on north and south dashed the foaming waters of the Mälar, seeking their outlet through a narrow winding channel to the Baltic. Across this channel on the south, and connected with the city by a bridge, the towering cliffs of Södermalm gazed calmly down upon the busy traffic of the city's streets; and far away beyond the channel on the north stretched an undulating plain, dotted with little patches of green shrubbery and forest. On the west the city commanded a wide view over an enchanting lake studded with darkly wooded isles, above whose trees peeped here and there some grim turret or lofty spire. Finally, in the east, the burgher standing on the city's walls could trace for several miles the current of a silver stream, glittering in the sunlight, and twisting in and out among the islands along the coast until at last it lost itself in the mighty waters of the Baltic.

The town itself was small. The main isle, on which "the city," so called, was built, stretched scarce a quarter of a mile from east to west and but little more from north to south. Nestling under the shadow of the main isle were two smaller isles, Riddarholm on the west and Helgeandsholm on the north, both severed from the city by a channel about fifty feet in width. Through the centre of the main isle ran a huge backbone of rock, beginning at the south and rising steadily till within a few feet of the northern shore. The summit of this ridge was crowned by the royal citadel, a massive edifice of stone, the northern wall of which ran close along the shore, so that the soldier on patrol could hear the ripple of the water on the rocks below. From either side of the citadel the town walls ran south at a distance of perhaps a hundred feet from the shore, meeting at a point about the same distance from the southern channel. Within the triangle thus formed, not over twenty-five acres all told, lived and moved five thousand human beings. The streets, it need scarce be said, were narrow, dark, and damp. The houses were lofty, generally with high pitch-roofs to prevent the snow from gathering on them. The doors and windows were high, but narrow to keep out the cold, and were built in the sides of the house, not in front, owing to the darkness and narrowness of the streets. To economize space, most of the houses were built in blocks of five or six, wholly separated from their neighbors and forming a sort of castle by themselves. The only church inside the walls was the so-called Great Church on the summit of the hill. Adjoining this church on the south was the old town-hall. As to public squares, there were but two,—the Grand Square, on the summit of the hill immediately south of the town-hall; and the so-called Iron Market, a smaller square just inside the southern gate. These squares, the largest not more than eighty yards in length, served at once as the market, the promenade, and the place of execution for the town. The town-walls were fortified at several points by towers, and were entered by gateways at the northwest corner and at the southern point, as well as by several small gateways along the sides. The city was connected with the mainland north and south by turreted bridges, the north bridge passing across the island of Helgeandsholm. All around the main island, some fifty feet from the shore, ran a long bridge on piles, built as a safeguard against hostile ships. Protected thus by nature and by art from foreign intrusion, the burghers of Stockholm learned to rely on their own industry and skill for every need. They formed themselves into various trades or guilds, each under the surveillance of a master. To be admitted to a guild it was necessary to pass a severe examination in the particular trade. These guilds were marked by an intense esprit de corps, each striving to excel the others in display of wealth. Some guilds were composed wholly of tradespeople, others wholly of artisans; and there were still others formed for social or religious purposes, comprising members of various trades. Of these latter guilds the most aristocratic and influential was the Guild of the Sacred Body. Inside a guild the members were bound together by the warmest bonds of friendship. They ordinarily lived in the same quarter of the town; they cared for their brothers in sickness or poverty, and said Mass in common for the souls of their deceased. Each guild held meetings at stated intervals to vote on various matters concerning its affairs. In case of war the different guilds enlisted in separate companies. Over and above all the guilds were a burgomaster and council elected by their fellow-townsmen, their duties being to regulate the relations of the various guilds to one another, and provide for the general welfare of the city. Thus the inhabitants of Stockholm formed a miniature republic by themselves. They governed themselves in nearly all local matters. They bought, sold, and exchanged according to their own laws and regulations. They married and gave in marriage after their own caprice. Industrious, skilful, with little ambition, they bustled about their narrow streets, jostling those at their elbow and uttering slander against those out of hearing. In short, they led the humdrum life incident to all small towns in time of peace, and were ever eager to vary this monotony at the first sound of war.[14]

Into this community Gustavus was ushered in the year 1514. He was then but eighteen, and was summoned by the regent to the royal court to complete his education.[15] He found himself at once in clover. Three years before, his mother's half-sister, Christina Gyllenstjerna, had married the young regent; and the youth on coming to Stockholm was received as one of the family in the royal palace.

Among all the personages then at court, the most interesting, by all odds, was the regent's wife, Christina. This woman is one of the most puzzling characters in Swedish history. On her father's side of royal lineage, and on her mother's descended from one of the oldest families in Sweden, she inherited at the same time a burning desire for personal advancement and an enthusiasm for the glory of her native land. Wedded to a handsome, daring, impetuous youth of twenty-one, the nation's favorite, she entered with her whole heart into all his projects, and was among his most valuable counsellors whether in peace or war. In force of character and in personal bravery she was scarce inferior to her heroic husband, and yet she lacked not discretion or even shrewdness. She was the idol of the Swedish people, and before many years were passed was to have an opportunity to test their love.

Another personage at court, with whom we have already become acquainted, was Hemming Gad. Although of humble birth, this man had received a careful education, and during twenty years of his early life had held the post of Swedish ambassador at the court of Rome. On his return to Sweden he had been elected bishop of the diocese of Linköping, but had never entered on his duties owing to the opposition of the pope. He was not indeed a priest. Diplomacy was above all else the field in which he shone. A warm supporter of the Stures, he had more than once averted trouble by his powers of conciliation, and was regarded as an indispensable servant of the people's cause. Fearless, eloquent, untiring, conciliatory, persuasive, perhaps not too conscientious, he was the most influential person in the Cabinet and one of the very foremost statesmen of his time. It was to this man, then seventy-four years of age, that the care of the young Gustavus was intrusted when he came to court.

Affairs at this time were in a state of great confusion. King Hans of Denmark had died a year before, and after several months of hostile demonstration had been succeeded by his son. This person, known as Christiern II., was as vile a monster as ever occupied a throne. Gifted by nature with a powerful frame, tall, burly, with large head and short thick neck, broad forehead and high cheek-bones, prominent nose, firmly compressed lips, a plentiful supply of shaggy hair on his head and face, heavy overhanging eyebrows, his eyes small, deep-set, and fierce,—his appearance furnished an excellent index to his character. Firm, courageous, by no means wanting in intellect or executive ability, he was sensual, gross, and cruel. Though often full of hilarity and hearty animal spirits, there was ever hanging over him a cloud of melancholy, which occasionally settled on him with such weight as to rob him wholly of his reason. At such times he seemed transformed into some fierce monster with an insatiable thirst for blood. When a mere boy in the royal palace at Copenhagen, he is said to have amused himself by midnight orgies about the city's streets.[16] He was well educated, however, and early became a useful adjunct to his father. At twenty-one he displayed much bravery in an assault which Hans then made on Stockholm; and a few years later he became his father's deputy in the government of Norway. While there, his secretary one day came to him and portrayed in glowing terms the beauty of a maiden who had dazzled him in Bergen. The sensitive heart of Christiern at once was fired. He left his castle at Opslo without a moment's waiting, and, crossing hill and vale without a murmur, hastened to feast his eyes on the fair Dyveke. Being of a romantic turn of mind, he resolved to see her first amidst all the fashion of the town. A splendid ball was therefore held, to which the aristocracy were bidden with their daughters. Among the guests was the renowned Dyveke, who outshone all in beauty. No sooner did Christiern see her, than his whole soul burned within him. He seized her hand, and led off the dance in company with his fair enchanter. Rapture filled his soul; and when the ball was over, Dyveke was secretly detained and brought to Christiern's bed. This incident had a far-reaching influence on Christiern's later life. Though already betrothed to the sister of Charles V., his passion for Dyveke did not pass away. He erected a palace at Opslo, and lived there with his mistress until recalled to Copenhagen, when he took her with him. The most singular feature in this whole intrigue is that the royal voluptuary was from the outset under the absolute sway, not of the fair Dyveke, but of her mother, Sigbrit, a low, cunning, intriguing woman of Dutch origin, who followed the couple to the royal palace at Opslo, and afterwards accompanied them to Stockholm, the complete ruler of her daughter's royal slave. On the accession of Christiern to the throne, he resolved, at the instance of this woman, to add the Swedish kingdom to his dominions. In order to comprehend the measures which he adopted, it will be necessary to trace events in Sweden since the death of Hans.

The Danish party, in no way daunted by their futile effort to secure the regency of Sweden, had kept up continuous negotiations with their friends in Denmark, with the object ultimately to place the king of Denmark on the throne. Owing, however, to the manifest and growing popularity of the young Sture, they deemed it wise to wait for a more auspicious moment before making open demonstration, and for the time being yielded to the regent with the best grace they could command. The thing which they most needed, in order to counteract the influence of the chivalric young Sture, was the infusion of new life among their ranks. The archbishop and Erik Trolle both were old, and, though in the full vigor of their intellectual ability, lacked the energy and endurance required to carry on a policy of active war. It was resolved, therefore, to throw the burden of leadership on younger shoulders. There was at this time in Rome a man who seemed to possess more qualifications than any other for the post. This was Gustaf Trolle. He was young, highly educated, energetic, and above all a son of Erik Trolle, the powerful leader of the Danish faction. He had seen much of the world, and had lived on terms of familiarity with some of the greatest men in Europe. But his whole power of usefulness was lost through his inordinate personal and family pride. Weighted down by the sense of his own importance, with haughty overbearing manners, and a dogged obstinacy in dealing with his inferiors, he was the last man in the world to be successful as a party leader. Yet it was on this man that the Danish party fixed its hopes. The matter first took shape on the 31st of August, 1514, when the archbishop in conversation with Sture suggested that old age was now coming on so fast that he desired to resign his office, and asked whom Sture deemed most fit to serve as his successor. To this the courteous regent answered that he knew no one better fitted for the post than the archbishop himself. With this the conversation ended. On the 12th of October following, the crafty archbishop, not averse to feathering his own nest, formed a compact with Erik Trolle by which Ulfsson was to commend the latter's son for the archbishopric, and in return Erik promised to support Ulfsson to the utmost of his power and to see that Gustaf Trolle did not deprive Ulfsson of the archiepiscopal rents during the latter's life.[17] This done, Erik Trolle went to the regent and asked him to recommend Gustaf Trolle for the post of archdeacon of Upsala. This request was complied with. But when, soon after, Erik appeared again before the regent with a letter from the archbishop informing him that the Chapter of Upsala had decided on Gustaf Trolle as the new archbishop, Sture was so startled that he wrote to Upsala to say that he had never consented to such a proposition, but nevertheless if God wished it he would raise no opposition. The pope having already declared that no one should be appointed without the regent's consent, no effort was spared to dispose Sture well towards the new candidate, and with so good result that when the archbishop's messengers went to Rome to secure the confirmation, they carried with them a letter from Sture to his legate in Rome, instructing him to do all he could before the pope in favor of Gustaf Trolle.[18]

In May, 1515, the young man was consecrated archbishop of Upsala by the pope,[19] and started in the following summer for the North. Passing through Lubeck, where he is rumored to have had an audience of Christiern,[20] he pursued his journey by water, and at last cast anchor off the Swedish coast about twelve miles from Stockholm. Here he was met by certain of the Danish party, who urged him to give the cold shoulder to the regent. Instead, therefore, of proceeding to the capital, he drove direct to Upsala, and was installed in his new office: all this in spite of the fact that the old archbishop had assured the regent, before he wrote to Rome, that he would not hand over Upsala nor Stäket to Trolle till the latter had sworn allegiance to Sture.[21] The immediate effect of his investiture was to augment the haughtiness of the young archbishop. Scarcely had he become domiciled in Upsala, when he wrote a letter to the regent warning him that he, the archbishop, was about to visit with punishment all who had wronged his father or grandfather, or his predecessor in the archiepiscopal chair. To this the regent, wishing if possible to avert trouble, answered that if any persons had done the wrong complained of, he would see to it that they should be punished. But the archbishop was in no mood for compromise. The breach now opened, he resolved to make it wider; and he had no difficulty in finding pretext. The fief of Stäket had long been a bone of contention between the Church and State. Though for many years in the hands of the archbishops, it had never been clearly settled whether they held it as a right or merely by courtesy of the crown; and at the resignation of Archbishop Ulfsson the fief was claimed by his successor, Trolle, as well as by the regent. In order to put an end to this vexed question, the regent wrote to Ulfsson asking him to produce the title-deeds on which his claim was based. After considerable correspondence, in which, however, the deeds were not produced, Sture, deeming it unwise to leave the fief any longer without a steward, entered into possession, and applied the incomes to the royal treasury, at the same time assuring Ulfsson that if he or the Chapter at Upsala could prove a title to the fief, they should enjoy it. This only added fuel to the flame. Trolle, unable as it seems to prove his title, assumed the posture of one who had been wronged, and scorned the urgent invitation of the regent to come to Stockholm and discuss the matter. Indeed, there were rumors in the air to the effect that Trolle was engaged in a conspiracy against the throne.[22]