But the royal library has 75,000 volumes, and if it had the library that Queen Christina sent to the Vatican at Rome, it would be still a greater wonder, and then would be increased if the ancient collection made by Charles X., and consumed by fire in 1697, had been preserved. The Codex Aureus, a Latin manuscript of the gospels, dating in the sixth or seventh century, “is written in Gothic characters of gold, on folio leaves of vellum, alternately white and violet.”
“This book is additionally interesting, from its containing an Anglo-Saxon inscription, of which the following is a translation: ‘In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I, Alfred Aldorman (Senior or Prince), and Werburg, my wife, got up this book from a heathen war-troop, with our pure treasure, which was then of pure gold. And this we got for the love of God, and for our souls’ behoof, and for that we would not that this holy book should longer abide in heathenesse; and now will we give it to Christ’s Church, God to praise, and glory, and worship, in thankful remembrance of his passion, and for the use of the holy brotherhood, who in Christ’s Church do daily speak God’s praise, and that they may every month read for Alfred, and for Werburg, and for Alhdryd (their daughter), their souls to eternal health, as long as they have declared before God that baptism (holy rites) shall continue in this place. Even so I, Alfred, Dux, and Werburg, pray and beseech, in the name of God Almighty, and of his saints, that no man shall be so daring as to sell or part with this holy book from Christ’s Church, so long as baptism there may stand. (Signed) Alfred, Werburg, Alhdryd.’ No trace appears to exist of the history of this volume from the time it was thus given to Canterbury Cathedral until it was purchased in Italy, and added to this library. Here also is a huge manuscript copy of the Bible, written upon prepared asses’ skin. It was found in a convent at Prague, when that city was taken by the Swedes during the Thirty Years’ War. A copy of Koberger’s Bible, printed at Leyden, 1521, and the margins of which are filled with annotations by Martin Luther. Besides these, the library is rich in manuscripts and rare editions.”
The King of Sweden is the most affable and approachable monarch in Europe. In his daily walks, or while going about in the public steamers that ply through the waters of the city, as omnibuses do in New York, he enters freely into conversation with the people. To strangers, especially Americans, he is exceedingly kind, or, as his subjects would say, gracious. I saw him frequently while he was riding, but came no nearer to his Majesty. He had one of the most splendid reviews that I had ever seen, when the whole of the Swedish army that is stationed in this part of the country, together with the militia, all liable to be called on to do military duty, are put through a drill for a few days and nights every year, in the summer season. A vast open country, hill, wood and plain, is chosen, tents pitched, and for a few days mimic war goes through all its motions, saving and except that there is no blood shed. This annual exercise does something to keep up a martial spirit, and makes a few grand holidays, when the whole city is agog with the excitement. A fête day in Rome, an emperor’s day in Paris, or Derby day in London, would not exceed the annual review in Stockholm. The nobility and fashion, the beauty and folly, the masses of people in all sorts of conveyances, and more on foot than on wheels, were out at the parade. The squadrons were set on the hills, so far apart that a telescope was needed to see what was going on, and the marching and countermarching made a pretty show that delighted the people, and gave the soldiers a taste of the amusements they would have when rushing into battle under a blazing sun, and blazing guns in front of them.
The wars of Sweden occupy a large place in European history. Yet when we see how small the population, how limited the resources, and remote the situation of the country, it seems incredible that human wisdom has been so foolish as to permit a race of kings to waste the lives and wealth of a nation of honest men, in the miserable game of war.
But the genius of Sweden is seen in a very clever arrangement to make the burden of soldiering as light as possible. The standing army proper is very small and has little to do at present. But the reserve is large, and consists of men who are distributed about the kingdom and quartered on the government lands, which they work in time of peace, and thus earn their own support. If the crown lands are leased to others, a certain number of these soldiers is set apart for, or quartered on the land; and the lessee has their labor, and is responsible for their support. In this ingenious way the government makes its land pay the expenses of its army in peace. We might take a leaf out of the royal book of Sweden, and, by a wise administration of our vast national landed property, make it contribute something to the support of the government, while we improved its value. That would be certainly more statesmanlike than to give it away by millions every year to speculators. The Swedish soldiers are also employed in making roads, and on other public works, as ours might be, greatly to their own moral benefit, and to the advantage of the country.
It strikes me that there is more order and less crime in this northern part of Europe than in any other country I have yet visited. I see little evidence of abject poverty and low vice. By night or day I have not seen a person on the streets at Stockholm who seemed to be of the abandoned class. Longer acquaintance may correct this impression and reveal another state of facts. Two American travellers were robbed of their watches and money, at the hotel where I am lodged, but a few days ago. It is not at all likely the thief is a native of these regions. He has probably followed the travellers, or, what is quite as likely, been one of their travelling companions. The landlord paid the losses without a lawsuit, and the Americans went on their way.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
SWEDEN (Continued).
BY the beautiful island of Drottningholm, on which the king’s mother resides in a palace within a park, that seems the abode of peace and plenty, and along the shores of other islands small and picturesque, but lovely to look on as we pass them on our way, we sail out into Lake Malar.
It is a wide, winding, beautiful sheet of water,—one of the many noble lakes that Sweden holds in her bosom. Two islands in it come so nearly together, that a drawbridge for a railroad stretches across, and opens for us to pass through, and then we sweep out into another expanse of water, the shores skirted with pines and hemlock; no hills in sight, but the scenery is lovely, though lacking grandeur. We are going into the heart of Sweden. Now the shores are cultivated to the water’s edge, and fine farms rise to view, with here and there a red cottage, with a tile roof: all the peasant houses and fisherman cottages are painted with red ochre, cheap, but unpleasant to the eye. Now the shores are bolder, rocky, and great forest trees, fir and spruce, are abundant.
The oldest place in Sweden, and that carries us back into far antiquity, is Sigtuna, and we have come to it, on the shores of Lake Malar, about four hours from Stockholm. We are in the midst of the remains of the old pagan worship of Scandinavia, where the altars to heathen deities, whose graves (!) we are going to see to-day, have smoked with human sacrifices.