The state council took no pains to hide the truth from the king, rather using strong colors in their descriptions of the critical condition in order to obtain the much-sought-for and needed peace, or at least the gratification of seeing the armies of the country used exclusively for the defence of its own possessions. King Charles considered the members of the state council as a body of weaklings, cowards and fools, who painted the devil on the wall because they lacked the courage and endurance to await the final and infallible triumph of his royal arms in a righteous cause. The climax was reached after the arrival of Charles at Bender. The state council commenced to negotiate for peace on its own responsibility. It also convoked a committee of the Estates of the Riksdag to a meeting for deliberations on measures which would better the hopeless conditions of the state and people. King Charles learned of it and sent from Bender a remarkable order, in which he absolutely forbade such meetings, “especially because the last convention of the Estates,” he wrote, “had no other consequence than to let them still plainer discover their impoverished condition.”
King Charles lingered in Bender, fascinated by the plans made by several Turkish princes of an armed support against his enemies, or at least an escort of troops for his return through Poland. The king succeeded in his efforts to force the sultan of Turkey to an attack on Russia. The Turks, 200,000 strong, made an invasion, according to plans drawn up by Charles, and were successful in completely surrounding a Russian army, commanded by Czar Peter in person, at the shores of the river Pruth. The czar saved himself by a supreme effort, sacrificing all his gold and the jewels of the czarina as bribes to the grand vizier, who commanded the Turkish army. This dignitary let the Russians escape, thus spoiling the plans of the whole campaign. To Charles it was a great disappointment. His hope to see the Russian giant crushed, and the defeat at Pultowa avenged, was gone forever. His plan of reaching Poland with Turkish troops to join Stenbock and a Swedish army was shaken with the loss of confidence in his barbarous allies. The perfidious grand vizier was punished, but the agreement of peace which he had made with the czar was sanctioned by the sultan, in 1711.
The Swedish state council was quite reluctant to obey the repeated orders of the king for a new army, hesitating to impose new burdens upon the suffering people. The king grew impatient and there was no escape possible. Magnus Stenbock, the most popular man in all Sweden, set an example of personal sacrifices which was followed by many others, and a new army of 9,000 men was at last equipped with a navy to carry it across the Baltic to Pomerania. Stenbock landed in the island of Rugen, in September, 1712, and increased his army to 14,000. He abandoned the idea to march toward Poland because the king remained at Bender, and entered Mecklenburg after having skilfully avoided meeting a superior force of Russian and Saxon troops, which followed him at a distance. Negotiations of peace had been commenced before the arrival of Stenbock, between the dethroned Stanislav of Poland, who was then in Pomerania, and King August. This caused a standstill in the operations, an armistice of a fortnight having been agreed to, with a prospect of renewal. The Danes made an end to it, entering Mecklenburg in December. When the armistice was at an end, Stenbock hastened with his troops to Gadebusch, where the Danish army was encamped, by this rapid move preventing the latter from joining the Russian and Saxon forces. Only a detachment of Saxon cavalry had succeeded in reaching the Danish camp. The battle of Gadebusch was fought December 9, 1712, and was the last of the great victories on land that a Swedish army ever won on the Continent. The Danes were crushingly defeated, and their allies found it safest to return to their former fortified positions. The Swedish artillery, commanded by Charles Cronstedt, distinguished itself in this battle against an enemy of superior strength. But Stenbock could not for any length of time keep up the struggle against the armies of three countries, not receiving any support from Sweden, nor sufficient provisions in Mecklenburg. When the Danes burned the town of Stade, Stenbock in revenge burned Altona, toward the end of the year. His army was reduced for lack of provisions, and Stenbock saw no other course to take than to shut himself up with his troops in the fortress of Tœnning, in the possession of the young duke of Holstein-Gottorp. Stenbock persevered in his hopes for support from Sweden, or friendly powers, in vain. Efforts were made in Sweden to send him troops and provisions, but did not prove successful. When death from starvation was impending, the valiant general concluded to surrender. May 6, 1713, it was agreed that Stenbock and his army of 11,000 men should become Danish prisoners, but that they should be exchanged at the earliest opportunity. King Frederic IV. of Denmark dishonestly neglected to fulfil this agreement, repeatedly and flatly refusing to exchange any of the prisoners. The hero of the victories at Helsingborg and Gadebusch at first received a tolerably good treatment in Danish captivity, which later was changed in a horrible manner. After years of cruel suffering, he died in a miserable dungeon, in 1717, one year prior to the death of Charles XII. This great descendant of Eric Stenbock and Magdalen Sture tried to kill the time of his captivity by carving in ivory, some articles of exquisite design by his hand still being preserved.
At the surrender of Tœnning, Sweden lost her last army and her ablest general. Her king dwelt among the Turks in circumstances fraught with increasing dangers, and her enemies on every side stood ready for attack, the country being a prey to discontent and despair. Still her measure of misery and contumely was not filled.
Charles XII. persevered in his strange sojourn at Bender, being a guest who caused the sultan continual worry through his great political influence. The king was resolved to leave Turkey only in one manner, and that was escorted by a Turkish force. He was successful in persuading the sultan to declare war on Russia once more, but Czar Peter hastened to make so many concessions that peace was made before any campaign was begun. King Frederic of Prussia offered Charles an alliance on the condition that he should at once return to Sweden. Charles seemed at last inclined to do so, but then a conspiracy was brought to his notice, disclosing a plan by which the perfidious Turkish princes of his intended escort were to deliver him into the hands of King August of Poland. King Charles refused to leave Poland, and the conspirators effected an order from the sultan to attack Charles with an army of 10,000 men, and bring him, dead or alive, to Adrianople. The order was executed February 11, 1713, Charles defending himself with his few hundred Swedes and some Poles of his escort against the overwhelming force of Turks and Tartars. The house of the king, near Bender, had been strongly fortified for the occasion. When the trenches were taken most of his men surrendered, but Charles remained with fifty Swedes in the house, which was built of wood, warding off the attack and putting the enemy to flight with a heroism vividly recalling the tales of the ancient Sagas. The Turks returned toward evening and ignited the building. The Swedes valiantly continued their struggle, fighting with their swords against the Turks, surrounded by heavy fire and by the smoke of the burning building. The king at last was forced to leave the house and tried to make his way to the neighboring chancery building, which was of stone and better fit to withstand an attack. Charles stumbled and fell, and was at once made prisoner, together with his followers. This peculiar incident, which has been called the Kalabalik, or Popular Tumult, of Bender, aroused universal surprise and dislike. Charles was conducted to a Turkish pasha, who treated him with respect. He was under supervision first at the town of Demotika, later at the palace of Timurtasz, both in the vicinity of Adrianople. Charles considered it incompatible with his royal dignity to call on the grand vizier. For this reason it was given out that he was ill, and in his miraculous stubbornness he persevered in keeping his bed for a whole year! During all this time, Charles followed up his policy of governing Sweden from afar with absolute despotism. He prepared new rules for the chancery, attempting to change the form of administration from one of faculties, or colleges, to one of departments, or bureaus. He made negotiations of peace in the same spirit as of yore, viz., without being willing to make any concessions, and planned new campaigns. For recreation he played chess and listened to music.
In Sweden the peculiar Turkish adventures of Charles XII. were not understood or appreciated, and the country seemed forsaken by all, even by the king, who by many was thought to be insane. The state council saw no possibility of maintaining a government without the consent and goodwill of the people. Plans for a new constitution, a reduction of the royal power and a peace at any cost were in the air. Princess Ulrica Eleonore was called as a member of the state council and a Riksdag was convoked, to meet toward the end of 1713. The Estates declared that they were, in case of necessity, ready to seek peace under the auspices of the princess and the state council, and were in favor of appointing the princess to the regency. Arvid Horn, the leading spirit of the state council, used the utmost of his influence in keeping the Riksdag from the revolutionary acts which would be involved in making Ulrica Eleonore regent, but he saw to it that the declaration of the Riksdag, of intended peace-making through the princess and state council, was communicated to the king. Hans Henric von Liewen, one of the state councillors, was selected to carry this communication to the king, together with letters from the queen-dowager and the state council. Count Liewen gave a full and true account to the king, telling him in plain words that if he did not return home without delay his kingdom would be lost to him.
King Charles at last decided to return to his country. He sent an embassy of seventy-two people to officially announce his departure to the sultan at Constantinople, made a loan of a considerable sum of money, and left Demotika with a large escort. In Wallachia he left the Turks behind, and continued on his way through Hungary and Germany, followed by two Swedish officers. The emperor of Germany, who was desirous of winning over the Swedish king for his plans, prepared a hospitable reception, but Charles passed Vienna incognito as Captain Peter Frisk. He rode on, through night and day, taking care of his own horse and never changing his clothes. Charles arrived at the gate of Stralsund, in Swedish Pomerania, in the night of November 11, 1714, accompanied by one officer. In a fortnight he had, on horseback, traversed a stretch of 1,300 miles.
The situation at the arrival of Charles XII. in Stralsund was beset with new dangers and complications. Prussia had ceased to be friendly and was planning to seize the Swedish possessions in Germany. Hanover, united with England under the same ruler, had the same ambition. The dilapidated fortifications of Stralsund were attacked by Saxons and Danes, commanded by their respective kings, August and Frederic. For more than a year, Charles, with admirable heroism, withstood the siege. Once, while the king was dictating a letter to a secretary, the latter sprang to his feet in consternation, a bomb having shattered the roof of the building. “The bomb, your majesty, the bomb!” exclaimed the scribe. Charles answered: “What connection is there between the bomb and my letter?” quietly continuing his dictation. The king found it at last impossible to keep up the defence of Stralsund, leaving it a stormy December night, and arriving safely in the town of Trelleborg, on the southernmost point of Sweden, December 15, 1715.
What a different country that Sweden was which Charles XII. left in August, 1699, at the very summit of her political grandeur, to the impoverished and suffering Sweden in which he had now landed! And what a different man he had himself become during these sixteen years of absence! Sweden had won a new hero king, of greater fame than any of his predecessors or successors, but lost her prosperity for the time being and her political grandeur forever. The people received the king with demonstrations of joy and with reviving hope for an honorable peace. The state council and the intelligent few received him with badly concealed hopelessness and indifference. They knew that although the young ambitious king had changed to a world-famous hero, prematurely aged in victory and defeat, the unyielding stubbornness and the never satiated desire for glory had remained unchanged in Charles XII. Charles was met by a message from the dying queen-dowager, his grandmother, with an ardent prayer for peace. Charles answered to hopes and prayers, to silent indifference and despair, with a command of more money and more troops! He wanted peace, but as he spoke in the same terms as when he was the victorious commander of an apparently invincible army, nobody cared to consider his demands in earnest. The absolute power reached its last stage of development, a military despotism which had no other policy than war, no other administration than the one requisite to maintain and provide the requirements of war. The state council fell in deepest disgrace, and its functions ceased, in 1715.