"A prince being thus obliged to know well how to act as a beast must imitate the fox and the lion, for the lion cannot protect himself from snares, and the fox cannot defend himself from wolves. One must therefore be a fox to recognise snares, and a lion to frighten wolves."
Niccolò Machiavelli, the Prince 1513
"Luther’s face mirrors his books. His eyes are piercing and almost ominously lustrous, as one often finds it to be the case with people who are driven by a single cause. The king of Denmark has those very same eyes."
Johannes Dantiscus, Prince-Bishop of Warmia, speaking of Christian II
Christian II of Denmark is one of the most disputed kings in the entire historiography of Scandinavia. His relatively short reign of less than a decade saw the definite dissolution of the Kalmar Union, the dawn of the Reformation and the advent of more than a hundred years of noble domination over the Dano-Norwegian state. He was the last Danish king to be deposed by force and a man despised by his successors in Copenhagen and Stockholm as a bloody-minded tyrant.
Much of the consternation pertaining to his reign can be traced to the king’s copious and ambitious plans to drastically reform Scandinavian society along Netherlandish lines, driven by a desire to strengthen the Crown at the expense of the church and nobility. He flaunted his accession charter[1], appointed burghers to high office and ruthlessly executed those who stood in his way. Thus, in his one-handed governance, he almost exactly mirrored Machiavelli’s ideal renaissance prince.
In this timeline I will explore what could have happened, if Christian II had been exposed to a slightly different set of circumstances in the years immediately before his reign. This should affect how the Reformation, the fate of the Kalmar Union and the establishment of a new mercantile class might play out. The exact point of divergence will be made clear in the following prologue.
[1]The Scandinavian word håndfæstning/håndfestning (fixating the hand) has no definite English translation, I’m using John P. Maarbjerg’s rendering. In effect it was a proto-constitutional document, aimed at limiting the royal power of the executive.
Author’s Note: A map originally made for another project which I've adapted to fit this timeline. Chronologically, it shows the administrative, ecclesiastical and urban division of the Danish realm and the Duchy of Schleswig in the period from 1490 (Schleswig) to the death of King Hans (Denmark) in 1513. While there might be some mistakes here and there, I can confidently say that this is probably the most accurate map available in English of the situation in Denmark just prior to the coronation of Christian II. Although the map does not advance the story as it stands at its current juncture, I thought it might be a nice reference point for new readers when the timeline returns to Scandinavian matters in a few updates' time. As such I've inserted it in the threadmarks immediately following the introduction. I hope you'll enjoy it as I work on Chapter 28 and the Hungarian situation
Sources:
Appel, Hans Henrik: At være almuen mægtig - de jyske bønder og øvrigheden på reformationstiden (Odense: Landbohistorisk Selskab, 1991)
Arup, Erik: Danmarks historie, Bind 2 - Stænderne i herrevælde (København, 1932)
Christensen, Harry: Len og Magt i Danmark 1439-1481 (Viborg: Universitetsforlaget i Aarhus, 1983)
Erslev, Kristian: Danmarks Len og Lensmænd i det sextende aarhundrede 1513-1596 (København, 1879)
Hørby, Kai & Venge, Mikael: Danmarks historie, Bind 2 - Tiden 1340-1648, første halvbind (København: Gyldendalske Boghandel, Nordisk Forlag A.S., 1980)
Jespersen, Mikkel Leth: "Dronning Christines politiske rolle" in Dronningemagt i middelalderen edited by Jeppe Büchert Netterstrøm & Kasper H. Andersen (Aarhus: Aarhus Universitetsforlag, 2018)
Poulsen, Bjørn: "Slesvig før delingen i 1490: Et bidrag til senmiddelalderens finansforvaltning" in Historisk Tidsskrift 90 (1990): pp. 38-63
Prologue The Chancellor of the Viceroy Bergen, Norway
Autumn 1507
Erik Valkendorf thought himself to be a learned man. He had after all studied at the university of Greifswald like a great many other men of substance. Indeed, the current archbishop of Lund, Birger Gunnersen, had attended lectures at the very same pulpit, Erik reflected complacently. Although in no way close to the authority of the second most powerful man in the realm, Erik still considered himself to be important. He was, after all, the chancellor of the royal heir, the prince-elect Christian. He might not be counted amongst the greatest of men in the three kingdoms, but his master was the viceroy of Norway - and he was his right hand man.
At the moment though, he was getting thoroughly soaked by a strong current of rain. It seemed as if it was always raining in Bergen. He raised his hood and stepped out from under the leaky panoply of the stall, where he had listened inattentively to a merchant’s complaints. He had to continue. Gingerly, he crossed the muddy street, his squire, Axel, taking the lead whilst his scribe, Mikkel, fell in behind him. The busy throng parted to let him pass, as the young noble quibbed for them to let the king’s man through. He liked that a lot.
As they made their way past cloth and fur stalls and shops, Erik could hear the various traders peddle their goods. German, Scots and Dutch voices mingled with the vernacular Norwegian of the townspeople. Trade was the lifeblood of Bergen. 30 years ago the city had practically burned to the ground, but commerce had raised it once more from the ashes. Down the road he could vaguely eye the harbour and the Kontor of the Hanseatic merchants. He passed a group of nobles from the hinterland, come to town to trade with the foreigners. They bowed their heads politely at him, water trickling down their drenched beards. He liked that too.
The Hansa, however, he did not particularly like. Complaints had been coming in to the viceregal court at Askershus for years about the bullying behaviour of the German merchants’ league and the harassment petered out by them on competing traders. If commerce was the blood of the city, the Kontor was the giant tick leeching off it. Some even said that the league’s representatives were the real power in Bergen - and with Bergen being the largest and most prosperous city of Norway, the real power in the country as well. That, he knew, his master strongly disliked. It was also the reason Erik had left Oslo and the comforts of his chancery. The prince had swung the rod of chastisement over the backs of the intransigent local nobility and disposed of the traitor Alvsson[1]. In effect, his master’s rule was all but absolute, save for the German ticks prancing about the docks.
Soon, the prince would arrive himself and take charge of the deteriorating situation and Erik had been sent ahead to ascertain how affairs were in the city. Maybe the gibbets outside the city palisades would even have some new occupants when they left.
He stepped in under a canopy protruding from a half-timbered burgher’s house as the skies opened for an even worse downpour. As he shuddered from the rain, Erik noticed the open windows and stands of the house, displaying flemish cloth, copperware and honey. A warm smokey smell of roasted almonds and pastries alleviated his nose from the city’s stench of fish, saltwater, piss and shit.
Suddenly, a portly crone appeared at the window. She had shrewd look, a big nose and a set of cunning blue eyes framed by a linen wimple. Below her many cheeks a silver crucifix dangled. From the back-end of the shop he could hear the faint sound of a girl coughing. “Would the good sir like a pastry?” The old woman enquired in a chopping accent Erik immediately knew to be Dutch. He eyed her over and accepted the warm sweetthing with a curt nod. “If the good sir sees anything he fancies let me know. It’s just me in the shop all day, what with my poor dove having the coughs.” Erik Valkendorf swallowed the pastry in two bites, complimented the woman for her baking and stepped back out into the rain. Axel and Mikkel followed suit. There were ticks to squash and he did not like the look of her.
The Money Changer and His Wife, by Quentin Matsys,1514
***
There you have it, the POD. For those who did not notice, what happened was Erik Valkendorf avoided meeting Sigbrit Villoms and her daughter, Dyveke, thus keeping the pair out of Christian II’s life. I thought long and hard about the POD, but saw this as the most minor, yet most likely and most consequential. A lot of the problems and tribulations of Christian’s reign can be traced to his involvement with the Dutch beauty, which led me to the conclusion that her and, especially, her mother’s exclusion would be the most interesting way to divert events from our own time.
Sigbrit herself was one of the most remarkable women of that period of history. A common Dutch tradeswoman who rose to unprecedented heights within the late medieval Danish government (in effect becoming Chancellor of the Exchequer) on account of her daughter’s relationship with the king. Such was her influence and the hatred which it invoked in the nobility that once the rebellion against the king erupted, the vast majority of the letters of renunciation included some kind of reference to her perceived wrongdoings and corruption. Once the king had been exiled and she herself passed on, one of these noblemen uprooted her gravestone and had it placed at the entrance to his manor house where all his tenants were ordered to spit and “do other much worse things” on it.
Footnotes:
[1]Knut Alvsson of the House Tre Rosor (Three Roses) was a Norwegian, pro-Swedish nobleman who led an ill fated rebellion against King Hans of Denmark in 1501. He was killed during peace negotiations with his nemesis, the noble Henrik Krummedige who acted on the authority of the king’s son, the later Christian II.
In February 1513, king Hans of Denmark fell off his horse and plunged into the swollen and marshy waters of the Skjern River in Western Jutland. Grievously injured, the king was taken to the city of Aalborg, whereto he had already summoned a number of Jutish councilors of the realm. After a few days, Hans, the second of the Oldenburg dynasty, king of Denmark, Norway and Sweden committed his soul to God, and died.
The king’s reign had been a troubled one and the results of it a mixed bag. He had fought the Swedes and won, successfully restoring the Kalmar Union. He had fought the peasant republic of Dithmarschen in the Battle of Hemmingstedt, and suffered a crushing defeat. The loss of prestige was so grievous that the anti-union party in Sweden once more took up the cause of separation, and allied with the king’s old foes in the Haseatic town of Lübeck, waged war against the king. However, the newly established royal navy proved to be too great a foe for the allies in the war at sea, and at the subsequent Peace of Malmø in 1512, the union was once more upheld, the Swedish council of the realm being obliged to recognize the king’s son and heir, Christian, as the next king of Sweden.
The Adoration of the Magi by the Master of Frankfurt, a Flemish painter active in Antwerp ca. 1520. Altarpiece from the House of the Holy Ghost, Nykøbing-Falster, Denmark. On the left panel, Balthazar, true to renaissance tradition, is depicted as a young moor observing the holy family, holding his gift of Myrrh. In the central panel, the holy family receives the adoration of Caspar (in the likeness of King Hans I), kneeling in prayer before the Infant Christ, who smilingly reaches out for the old man. On the final panel of the triptych, young Melchior (depicted as Christian II) steps into the barn, tipping his crowned hat in greetings with his right hand grasping the gift of gold, symbolizing Christ’s divine kingship. In the middle the coat of arms of the house of Oldenburg is shown.
However, Christian’s very ascension to the throne of Denmark was in no way certain. His father had governed the realm in a remarkably headstrong way, disregarding his accession charter and placed commoners and burghers as fief holders at important royal castles, a right to office usually and legally reserved for those belonging to the nobility. Prince Christian, who had accompanied his sire on the journey to Aalborg was at the king’s side when he passed and he swiftly moved to secure the loyalty of the noble magnates gathered in the city. Despite the fact that the royal council on three occasions had sworn to make Christian their king after his father, the assembled lords refused outright to proclaim him ruler before a new accession charter had been formulated and the remainders of the council and estates had been heard[1]. After a heated exchange, the two parties split in anger. In the words of the Swedish nobleman and commander at Älvsborg castle, Ture Jönsson, reporting on the events after the king’s passing, the prince found few friends amongst the upper aristocracy as:
“...ere hannem jnge tiilfalne ythen de Byller.”
“...none have come to his side other than those Beetles.”[2]
These so-called Beetles were the members of the House of Bille, one of the more prominent families within the realm. The ecclesiastically educated Ove Bille had been the late king’s chancellor whilst his brother Eske served as castellan and fief-holder at Copenhagen castle. Both brothers had thus occupied important positions within the administration, but their unwavering support was a rarity. Although certain members of the high nobility were sympathetic to the young prince, such as the immensely rich and powerful Gøye-family, the aristocracy as a whole had its own best interests at heart.
The constitutional precedent was clear. No king could be elected until he had signed an accession charter, formulated in concert with the councilar nobility and church prelates. To accept the prince as king without any royal concessions or confirmation of the aristocracy’s feudal privileges, as Christian had demanded in Aalborg, would be to poison to the very institution of the elective monarchy. Consequently, the lesser nobility and the councils of all three union realms were issued a summons, to appear in Copenhagen in the summer of 1513 to negotiate the terms of a new charter.
Although the commoners and burghers had received the handsome and strapping-looking[3] prince ecstatically[4] upon his return from Norway, the high nobility had good cause to be alarmed at the prospect of Christian assuming the throne. During his tenure as viceroy, Christian had forcefully advanced the cause of the crown, effectively ruling the country in a proto-absolulist manner, at the expense of both the worldly aristocracy as well as the church’s prelates. He had all but obliterated the Norwegian council of the realm as an independent political entity and brought the strong-willed Norwegian church to heel by outright imprisoning a bishop of the church who stood in his way. King Hans too, had flaunted the constitutional restraints placed upon him by his own charter, and now it seemed his as if his son would follow in his footsteps at a marching pace.
The city of Copenhagen had in the course of the 15th century evolved into a respectable royal and national capital thanks to its location in the centre of the Danish realm.
Two groupings within the aristocracy came up with separate ideas of constraining the head-strong would-be monarch. One faction, rallying around the Jutish nobility and knights under the leadership of Predbjørn Podebusk, fief-holder at Riberhus and councilor of the realm, wanted to simply bypass the prince and offer the crown to his uncle, Frederick, the duke of Holstein[5]. However, to the chagrin of the conspirators, the skillful political operator Frederick rejected the proposal of the conspirators, who instead joined forces with the second oppositional grouping: the aristocratic constitutionalists.
Taking the lead in the councilar aristocracy’s opposition was the archbishop of Lund, Birger Gunnersen. Gunnersen had risen to his high office as the leader of the Scandinavian church from a remarkably lowborn background (his father had been a mere provincial bellringer in Halland) with the support of king Hans. However, the archbishop firmly believed in the independence of the church, and Christian’s numerous feuds with the Norwegian church as well as his involvement in disrupting Gunnersen’s ambition to choose his own successor had turned the prelate firmly against the crown and into an alliance with his old foes in the aristocracy[6].
The archbishop helped formulate a damning indictment of his old friend and protector, king Hans’ rule. Of the 51 articles in the late king’s charter, 30 had supposedly been violated, including particularly grave issues such as the execution of members of the high nobility without due process, the appointment of commoners as fief-holders and the waging of war without the consent of the council of the realm. In order to prevent a further deterioration of the nobility’s control with the monarchy, the aristocratic constitutionalists demanded the inclusion of several new articles and the dismissal of all burgher fief-holders.
Fiefs were the building blocks of power politics in late-medieval Scandinavia and the control of these were consequently of immense economic and political importance. Christian was forced to accept the removal of the commoner castellans, marking an important win for the councilar opposition, but the prince conceded graciously and without much fuss, persuaded in part by his own noble supporters and friends[7]. Although he himself had lived at the home of a prominent Copenhagen trader as a child, and consequently held the burghers and commoners in high regard as possible allies of the crown, the prince understood full well the tactical necessity of placating the council of the realm. Although the burgher fief-holders were utterly dependent on the crown for their advancement and thus only owed the king their loyalty, it would be a small loss for the king to replace one supporter with another of a higher social standing.
Danish fiefs and hundreds at the time of Christian II's ascension.
All land not owned directly by the aristocracy and the church belonged to the Danish feudal system. Although inherently feudal in nature, they were not as a rule passed on within certain families, but enfeoffed as a result of a tangible service rendered by a nobleman. Fiefs consisted of an amalgamation of lesser administrative divisions known as hundreds (corresponding to shires in England) and were enfeoffed on vastly different terms - the only commonality being the fief-holder’s obligation to supply military forces when called upon by the monarch[8]. Generally speaking the various fiefs fell into four broad categories:
The account fief: the most profitable arrangement for the crown. The fief-holder served as a royal appointed official who received a previously agreed upon salary in exchange for his service.
The rent fief: the second-most profitable enfeoffment for the crown. A certain rent was placed on the fief’s revenue which was paid directly into the royal coffers, whilst the fief-holder retained the remaining surplus in exchange for his services.
The pledge fief: usually granted in exchange for a loan provided by the fief-holder. In place of paying an interest rate, the crown pledged the income of the fief to the creditor until the debt had been paid.
The service fief: the least profitable enfeoffment for the crown as the only compensation provided the royal treasury was the military service of the fief-holder, who otherwise kept all the revenue gathered in the fief for himself.
However, the most worrisome demand by the councilar opposition was the enlargement of their jus resistendi - their right to resist a prince governing against his promises and the stipulations of his accession charter. A comparative article had been present in king Hans’ charter, but it had been vague and self-contradictory. Under the constitutional guidance of archbishop Gunnersen, the council of the realm now demanded that the king promised:
”…at holde thenne wor recess, som wii Danmarkis oc Noriges indbyggere swærge skulle, […], swo well som indbyffer skulle wære plictug at holde oss huldskab oc mandskab, oc gøire wii emodt forschreffne wor recess oc wele ingelunde lade oss vnderwise thervti aff riighens radh, […] tha skulle alle riighens indbyggere wedt theris ere troligen tilhielpe thet at affwærge oc inthet ther met forbryde emodt then eedh oc mandskab, som the oss giøre skulle.”
“... to uphold this charter, which we have sworn the inhabitants of Denmark and Norway [...] likewise the inhabitants shall pledge us their loyalty and fidelity, but should we act against this charter and not allow ourselves to be rightly guided by the council of the realm [...] then all the inhabitants of the realm shall be honour-bound to prevent it[9] and in doing so shall not break the vow of loyalty and fidelity which they have us so sworn.”
In effect this right to rebellion legalized armed uprisings by the nobility against the crown, if the monarch violated any of the many articles in his accession charter. However, the article had some serious flaws, as it did not stipulate which institution should be the judge of exactly what constituted a breach of the charter. This had been the case of Alvsson’s rebellion, where the tentative legality of the uprising was crushed by the sheer force of king Hans’ troops. In a political reality without institutional restraints, the only judge was raw unmitigated military power.
Nevertheless, Christian was presented with a fait-accompli. Accept the charter or face the prospect of civil war against the council and a possible pretender. Chaos in Denmark would leave the flood-gates open and likely mean the damnation of the three state union, the golden calf of the House of Oldenburg. Thus, Christian had little to no choice. The council had the constitutional high-ground and if he were to advance the cause of the crown, he would, at any rate, first have to wear it. With his scribes, squires and friends around him, the prince agreed to the radical stipulations[10] of the charter, and affixed his seal to the document above those of 29 Danish and 7 Norwegian councillors. On the 22nd of July 1513, five months and two days after the death of his father, the matter of the succession had finally been settled.
The Swedish delegates, however, had made excuses and pleaded that their orders from Stockholm had not included instructions as to how to act in relation to drawing up an accession charter.
Still, the prince was now the legally elected king of Denmark and Norway, rightfully chosen king of Sweden, king of the Wends and the Goths, Duke of Schleswig, Holstein and Stormarn as well as Count of Oldenburg and Delmenhorst - the issue of the Swedish succession would have to be postponed for the immediate future.
He needed to be crowned.
And he needed a wife.
Footnotes:
[1]As happened OTL.
[2]The English translation of the name of the noble house of Bille. Jönsson derogatorily referring to them as “those Beetles” is a bit of poetic license on the translation on my part.
[3]The king’s good looks were often noted in OTL, even by the likes such as Albrecht Dürer.
[4]As in OTL. According to one historian, “... there hardly was a single soul amongst the commoners in the entire realm who wished for another successor to king Hans.”
[5]The exact nature of this plot is somewhat disputed, but it is certain that a fraction within the aristocracy wished to reject the king’s son and take his uncle for their king.
[6]Gunnersen was a fascinating person. He led a vicious feud with the Scanian nobility which culminated in the killing of the Steward of the Realm, Poul Laxmand (if you played Denmark in EU IV, you might have seen an event relating to this murder).
[7]One of the first divergences, although not a major one. Even in OTL, Christian was remarkably pliable during the 1513 negotiations. ITTL, he has surrounded himself with noble friends and allies such as the Bille and Gøye families. However, commoners will continue to play a prominent part in Christian’s government, as will be expanded upon later.
[8]The so-called rostjeneste (horse-service)
[9]“It” meaning the continued rule of the king.
[10]Besides the inclusion of the “right of resistance” the charter included 68 articles, a considerable enlargement of the 51 articles found in the charter of king Hans.
“It is a virtuous and beautiful princess Your Grace has wooed. She has taken Your Grace fully to heart and never takes her eyes off Your Grace’s portrait… she is noble, wise and skilled and is thought sweet and pretty by all of Your Grace’s servants.”
- Erik Valkendorf, 1515
Bella gerant alii, tu felix Austria nube
Nam quae Mars aliis, dat tibi regna Venus
Let others only war, but you happy Austria, marry!
For the realms bequeathed to others by Mars, you shall receive from Venus
- Latin couplet, ca. 1500
By all accounts the new king of Denmark and Norway was a tall and handsome man. In 1513 he was 32 years old, with a fierce bifurcated beard which grew in redder than his shoulder-long auburn hair, a feature which, according to some foreign dignitaries, made him look “... like an unruly barbarian king.”[1] However, besides being the heir to one of the largest state conglomerates in all of Europe, he had been educated in the classics and statesmanship as well as the art of war. He was an accomplished jouster and hunter and to these skills he added a considerable interest in both religion and the humanist teachings of Erasmus. Furthermore, he had commanded armies on behalf of his father and conducted military campaigns before taking on the duties of viceroy in Norway. Thus he was, by all standards, quite the catch.
Consequently, gossiping had permeated the subject of the prince’s marriage for years. In 1493, a wild rumour had spread through Sweden that Christian was to marry the daughter of the grand prince of Muscovy, Ivan III, in exchange for the surrender of Finland to the Russians. To these speculations, king Hans was said to have wryly remarked that “... he certainly hoped that he needn’t purchase his son a bride.” Some years later, an earnest attempt by the grand duke to secure a marriage alliance through the betrothal of one of his daughters to the heir to the North did seem to have been made though. Such an alliance would have been combined with the wedding of Ivan’s son and successor Vasili[2] to Hans’ daughter Elizabeth. However, nothing came of the Russian proposal, as the rapprochement with Muscowy had primarily been made in order to frighten (which it certainly did) the unruly Swedish aristocratic caretaker government.
Other rumours had the prince promised to the youngest daughter of Henry VII of England, Mary, the later queen of France, but these too proved to be unfounded. Only in 1505 did king Hans put serious effort into finding his son a suitable match when he approached his old ally Louis XII of France through the intermission of his nephew, James IV of Scotland. The Oldenburg king proposed a match between Christian and Anna de la Tour, the daughter of the Count of Auvergne and a relative of the French queen. However, by the time the Danish embassy arrived, the countess had already been married off to the Scottish Duke of Albany, John Stewart.
King Christian II of Denmark, Norway and Sweden by Michael Sittow, ca. 1515. A painter from Tallinn, Sittow worked for most of his life as the court painter of Isabella of Castille, the wife of Ferdinand II of Aragon.
However, the French queen Anne[3] seems to have been genuinely disappointed that the marriage fell through and as such hastened to propose that Anna’s younger sister Madeleine[4] wed the prince instead. King Hans refused. Even though his personal affinity for France had enamoured him to the match, he had come to the realisation that his hope of dragging Louis into his conflict with the Hanseatic traders and their Swedish pawns would come to naught. The marriage would further France’s prestige and put a French princess on the throne of a vast state on the Holy Roman Empire’s northern border, but it would do little to aid Hans in his quest to bring the Hanse to heel and end trade with his rebellious Swedish subjects.
Frustrated, King Hans made one last feeble attempt at securing a bride for his son before his passing, but his overtures towards a Polish princess came to naught and stranded on Danish inaction. Likely, the cause of the failure is to be found in the fact that, just like the marriage negotiations with the grand duke, the Polish proposal was meant to drive a wedge between the Polish realm and the Swedish rebels who had sought its support. Once the Poles lost interest in aiding the Swedes, king Hans lost interest in the Polish princess and thus Christian remained a bachelor at the time of his father’s death.
However, the military developments on the continent would dictate that Christian II would not remain so for long.
In the late summer and early autumn of 1513 The War of the League of Cambrai had taken a catastrophic turn for the French and their Scottish allies. Henry VIII of England had crossed the Channel, linked arms with the emperor and decisively defeated a French army at Guinegate before capturing the town of Tournai. A month later, the industrious king James IV of Scotland was killed in action alongside the flower of Scotland’s chivalry at the Battle of Flodden. Consequently, the Holy League seemed poised to once and for all end any French pretensions to Italian hegemony.
Desperate for new allies, Louis XII remembered the young Madeleine de la Tour and the stranded marriage plans with the Northern king. Now more than ever the need for a friendly power on the Empire’s flank seemed imperative. As a result, on the 5th of October 1513, Louis issued Antoine d’Arcy, the lord de la Bastie[5], with a royal instruction to seek a marital and military alliance with the new king of Denmark and Norway. Furthermore, the French king pledged a dowry of a 100.000 francs. Setting off with great haste, d’Arcy reached Edinburgh a month later to join forces with a Scottish embassy headed by Andrew Brownhill and together they made the perilous crossing of the North Sea. The combined Franco-Scottish diplomatic mission reached Copenhagen in early march 1514[6] and was received with all the splendour such an embassy demanded. However, as d’Arcy and his Scottish colleagues made their representations before Christian, they found the situation drastically changed. The king had taken personal charge of the matter of his marriage.
Wood-cutting illustrations from Der Weisskönig, ca. 1515 by Hans Burgmair. Left: English troops armed with longbows and flying the Tudor banner rendezvous with Imperial forces before the Battle of the Spurs. Right: King James IV of Scotland lies slain at Flodden whilst his army routs over his body and broken standard. The Franco-Scottish military situation in late 1513 was not decidedly enviable.
Shortly after the conclusion of the negotiations pertaining to his accession charter, Christian had sat in council with his friends and closest family to debate the best match for a prince such as himself. Although the king like his father was personally enamoured to France, he understood the political limitations of a union with that country[7]. A French alliance would pivot the Oldenburg state against the pope, the king of England and, most importantly, the Emperor himself. The geographical realities being what they were, it would furthermore be highly unlikely for France to be able (or willing) to support the king in his ambition to restore royal authority in Sweden. Given the empire’s proximity and the emperor’s authority, the logical outcome would be to seek a bride from the House of Habsburg.
In the late summer of 1513, when French military fortunes plummeted, Christian wrote his uncle Frederick III Elector of Saxony[8] to enquire if he thought he had a chance at obtaining the hand of one of Emperor Maximilian I’s granddaughters. Christian himself preferred the oldest, Eleanor, but his uncle advised against it. Instead, he proposed that the younger Isabella would be far more suitable, as it appeared Eleanor had already been betrothed to another. To such a match, Frederick wrote, Maximilian himself had given his consent. Isabella was then only 12 years of age, 20 years younger than her proposed husband.
On the 6th of November 1513, just as the French embassy of d’Arcy arrived in Scotland, a delegation left Copenhagen for the imperial court at Linz. Representing the king was Mogens Gøye who was to act as his sovereign’s proxy in the proceedings. At his side Gøye had the bishop of Schleswig, Godske Ahlefeldt, and the knight and councilor of the realm, Albert Jepsen. The bishop was an eminently learned man with a commanding grasp of the latin language and was thus well suited to accompany the worldly splendour of the two noblemen.
However, the Emperor, it turned out, was just as inclined to use the marriage as a way to further his own designs as his counterpart Louis XII. The Grand Master of the Teutonic Order had for some time been begging Maximilian for aid against Polish encroachment on his territory and the Emperor had come around to the idea of forming a grand alliance to help the Ordensstaat. In this alliance the participation of Christian II would be quintessential. The Emperor thus proposed that a condition of the marriage of state be that the Danes would have to spend a third of Isabella’s dowry on a war against the Poles in defence of the German knightly order of the Baltic. This, however, was anathema to established Danish foreign policy. There existed widely cordial relations between the two courts and vital commerce between the two states flowed across the Baltic Sea. Furthermore, hostilities would revitalize the possibility of Polish support for the Swedish separatists and remove the pressure the Poles could bring to bear on the important Hanseatic port of Danzig whose trade with Sweden would need to be cut off in the event of hostilities breaking out.
On the advise of Frederick III, the three Danish deputies made vague promises and offered a counter-proposal. The king of the northern realms would gladly join a defensive alliance of the Terra Mariana, provided that the Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg likewise gave their support[9]. To this the imperial negotiators could not object and as such the matter was settled amicably whilst the Danes avoided an outright provocation of the Polish government.
The Emperor Maximilian I and his family by Bernhard Strigel, 1516. The Emperor is shown with his first wife Mary of Burgundy and their son Philip the Fair who had predeceased his father in 1506. In front are Philip’s children Ferdinand and Charles as well as Louis of Hungary, who would be adopted by Maximilian.
Whilst awaiting further counsel from the Elector of Saxony, the three delegates received word of the arrival of the Franco-Scottish embassy in Copenhagen. D’Arcy was working hard at convincing the king of the merits of a marriage to the young Madeleine and dangled the promise of the large dowry in front of Christian and his royal council.
Although the king had already elected against a French alliance, he decided to put on a good face regarding the envoys of Louis XII. D’Arcy and Brownhill were politely delayed and protracted at court with vague and uncommitted negotiations were commenced, whilst Gøye and his companions were ordered to continue with their endeavours in Linz.
Even though the issue of the anti-Polish coalition had been settled satisfactorily to both parties, there still remained two issues keeping the parties from signing the pact. First of all was the issue of Isabella’s age. The Imperial negotiators did not think the princess mature enough to wed the northern king immediately after the conclusion of the pact and pushed for a prolonged engagement period before a consummation of the marriage. To the Danish representatives this was problematic. They knew their king was impatient for a wife to secure the dynasty, the production of an heir was, after all, a great matter of state. The second issue was the size and downpayment of Isabella’s dowry.
An agreement would soon be reached on the first issue with the Danes conceding to the demands of the imperial court. The wedding would be conducted in two stages. A marriage by proxy would be held at the same time in Copenhagen and Brussels, where the princess lived under the tutelage of her aunt Margaret of Austria with Mogens Gøye serving as a stand-in for the king of Denmark. The second wedding ceremony would be held in person the year after in june 1515, allowing for Isabella to remain with her family until she had almost turned 14.
The second issue however, proved a harder nut to crack. The imperial councilors refused to settle on a given amount and it was only by the intermission of the Emperor himself that a solution was found. Isabella would bring a quarter of a million Rhenish guilders into her marriage - a sum of staggering proportions[10]. However, the imperial negotiators proclaimed that even the mighty House of Habsburg and their Fugger bankers did not possess pockets that ran quite so deep. Instead of a single payment, they asked that the dowry be broken into three installments, to be paid on the day of the wedding in 1515, 1516 and 1517.
Gøye and his compatriots very well knew that such an arrangement would disappoint their master greatly and as a result the negotiations ground to a halt. As the two parties retreated to reevaluate their positions, the Danish embassy became alive with rumours. Grooms and squires lived in uncertainty on how long they would remain in Linz. Stewarts were being told one day to purchase supplies for a long journey only to receive counter-orders on the morrow. Into this state of confusion, bishop Ahlefeldt casually remarked at a dinner with local dignitaries that the king had other suitors - such as the eminently beautiful Madeleine. As the three delegates let the news of the French “negotiations” slip, it soon found their way to the imperial councilors where a cold feeling of panic immediately took hold.
Isabella of Austria by the Master of the Legend of the Magdalen, ca. 1515.
Although the French and Scots were surely wrong-footed, the League had failed to keep up its momentum and end the war on their own terms. Furthermore, there were even rumours of Henry VIII seeking a separate peace with Louis, frustrated as he was by the lack of profit, which his investments in the Emperor’s war had garnered[11]. A new front in the north would prove disastrous for the imperial war effort and even though a great deal of the imperial councilors saw the ploy of Ahlefeldt for what it was, the danger was simply too great to ignore. Consequently, when the two parties reconvened for further talks, the imperial position was much more pliable.
The amount of the dowry would remain at 250.000 guilders, but the dates for the installments would be moved ahead. A quarter of the sum would be paid at the proxy marriage in Brussels that very same year whilst the yearly installments would follow as originally proposed until 1516. The dowry would prove to be of enormous importance to the king and his desire to see the Oldenburg three-state union revived. If paid in total, the dowry would enable him to hire more than 5000 German Landsknechts and pay their wages for an entire year, giving credence to the latin phrase pecunia nervus belli (money is the soul of warfare)[12].
Emperor Maximilian was also pleased with the successful end of the negotiations. He had turned a potential (or imagined) French ally around and bound him by marriage to his house, a policy deeply rooted in the Habsburg polity. Furthermore, as he wrote his daughter Margaret (who did not share his enthusiasm for the match) “... the marriage shall bring great joy to the House of Austria-Burgundy and especially our Netherlandish possessions who will benefit greatly in the ways of trade and commerce [...] my good son’s daughter couldn’t have achieved a better match, unless it was permitted a prince to take two wives.”[13]
On the 7th of June, the Danish company reached Brussels, where the Count of Hoorn received them in the name of Isabella’s brother Charles and her aunt Margaret of Austria, the Habsburg viceregent in the Netherlands. Great honour and splendour were showered on Christian II’s representatives, as the mood in the city was decidedly pro-Danish at the time. Despite the extra loans and taxes levied on the rich Dutch merchant cities by the imperial government to fund the dowry of Isabella, the king had enamoured himself to the people of Brussels by dispatching one of his trusted naval commanders, Søren Norby, alongside a small fleet and 500 men to aid the Emperor in his feud against Charles II Duke of Guelders[14].
Four days later Isabella wed Christian II through his representative Mogens Gøye in a pompous ceremony presided over by Jacques de Croÿ, bishop of Cambrai, and in the presence of her siblings as well as the Duke of Saxony[15] and the elector of Brandenburg. After another four days of celebrations, the embassy received the first quarter of the dowry and began their long journey home.
They had been gone for half a year.
The Habsburg possessions in the Netherlands at the time of Isabella and Christian's betrothal in 1514. The house of Austria-Burgundy had spun a web of matrimonal alliances throughout the continent which has pivoted it to the forefront of European grand politics. The Habsburg Dutch domains constituted some of the richest and most urbanised areas in all of Europe at the turn of the 15th century.
Footnotes:
[1]Being the perception of Margaret of Austria, to be precise. Outside of Scandinavia, at this point of time, full beards were considered inappropriate and somewhat barbaric.
[2]Who would go on to father Ivan the Terrible.
[3]Anne of Brittany, wife of Louis XII
[4]Who IOTL became the mother of Catherine de Medici.
[5]A good friend of the previously mentioned Duke of Albany.
[6]The proposal and embassy was also made in OTL, however, various delays meant that the Scots and French only reached Copenhagen on the 30th of April - the very day after the marriage contract between Christian and Isabella had been signed! ITTL, they haul their behinds along a bit faster.
[7]Just like he did in OTL.
[8]You know, the guy who went on to protect Luther in OTL after the Edict of Worms.
[9]This was actually an OTL proposition by Maximilian. The Danish response is the same as in OTL, too.
[10]The same amount as in OTL. To illustrate how truly staggering an amount the dowry constituted, it would equal roughly 14 million Euro in today’s money according to this site: http://www.iisg.nl/hpw/calculate2.php
[11]As he would go on to do in the summer of 1514.
[12]A rough estimate on my part. In 1522 the monthly wage of an infantry landsknecht was 4 guilders. A mounted soldier was paid 10 guilders a month. 4 guilders a month for 12 months equals 48 guilders for one year’s salary for a single infantryman Divided by 250.000 that should equal the pay for approximately 5200 soldiers.
[13]My own translation.
[14]In OTL, the flagship of Norby’s fleet “The Angel” was used by Charles V on his journey to Spain in 1517 to assume his Iberian crowns.
[15] John the Steadfast, the younger brother of Frederick III of Saxony.
“In no victory do they glory so much as in that which is gained by dexterity and good conduct without bloodshed.”
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Sir Thomas More, Utopia 1516
In the spring of the year 1515 another delegation sat sails from Copenhagen. At its head was Erik Valkendorf, the recently elevated archbishop of Trondheim and a score of young and prominent nobles and prelates. The time had come for Isabella of Austria-Burgundy to meet her husband and be crowned as queen of the North at his side. This time, upon their arrival in Brussels, the Danish ambassadors were received not by the Count of Hoorn, but by the bride’s own brother, Charles, who rode to meet them outside the city walls alongside a great many local potentates and prelates[1].
However, even though the delegation was feasted and dined, complications soon arose. The Habsburg government in the Netherlands had been unable to secure the promised second installment of Isabella’s dowry, with less than 60.000 guelders being at hand. An amount drastically short of the agreed-upon 94.000 mark. As a way of recompense, Margaret (who had been most displeased by the portrait of the king which Valkendorf had brought along[2]), promised to speak to her father the Emperor on expanding trade relations between the Northern realms and the Netherlands as well as making vague commitments on her sire’s behalf regarding reining in the Hanseatic League.
To the young archbishop the situation was not ideal, but the assembled flower of Denmark and Norway’s nobility as well as the imperial and papal legates would by that time be making their way for Copenhagen to attend the wedding. Any unnecessary delays had to be avoided. Consequently, after obtaining the reduced dowry and whatever assurances Margaret could commit to paper, Isabella boarded the ship Juliane in Veere and began the journey North. The voyage was not an easy one. As the fleet entered the Skagerrak, summer storms harassed the bridal company to such a degree that Isabella begged Valkendorf to anchor in Jutland and continue on to Copenhagen by land. However, her guardians convinced the young princess to soldier on and on the 22th of June the masts of the Dano-Netherlandish fleet were spotted entering the Sound. Making landfall immediately North of Copenhagen’s city walls, the princess was received by 300 mounted knights, the entire council of the realm and the king’s mother, Christina of Saxony[3].
On the first of July 1515, Christian II wed Isabella of Austria-Burgundy in a magnificent ceremony in the Church of Our Lady. In attendance were the councilors of the realm from Norway and Denmark, the king’s sister Elizabeth, Electress of Brandenburg, the king’s uncle Frederick III, Elector of Saxony, as well as representatives of both Emperor Maximilian and Pope Leo X. To all those present, it must have been quite clear that they were in the presence of a most exuberant congregation.
The archbishop of Lund presided over the wedding service, blessing the couple and announcing that the pope had decreed that all those in attendance were to receive a special papal remission of their sins. As Christian led his bride from the Cathedral they were showered with flowers and cries of adoration from the gathered townspeople waiting outside. For three days the guests and newly weds feasted at the royal castle - thirty-three courses were served on the first day, fifteen on the second and on the third jousting tournaments were held on the Gammel Torv - the king and queen observing the martial games from the town hall’s balcony. As evening approached, the burghers of Copenhagen threw a splendid ball for the two majesties and their guests where the Imperial ambassador presented Christian II with the Emperor’s greatest honour: The Order of the Golden Fleece[4]. In all subsequent paintings of the king, he chose to be depicted wearing that badge of honour and his induction into the most prestigious chivalric order of Europe came to be the icing on his wedding cake.
Altarpiece from the Carmalite monastery in Helsingør, possibly by the Netherlandish painter Jan Mostaert, ca. 1517. In front, Christian II and Isabella are seen kneeling in prayer. Between the royal couple their coat of arms are depicted whilst the king’s helmet and armour are shown just in front of him. The motive is judgement day. In the upper most field, the trinity is depicted immediately above Christ, sitting in judgement. On his left is the Virgin Mary and on his right John the Baptist. Below Christ the righteous are brought to the Virgin Mary whilst demons drag the damned down to hell. Behind Christian II, Saint George battles the dragon, symbolising chivalry and the fight against satan and injustice.
One delegation at the wedding festivities, however, resulted in raising a considerable amount of eyebrows from the other guests. Awkwardly making his way past the Imperial legate, the royal couple was presented with Antoine d’Arces. The Franco-Scottish embassy had returned to Copenhagen.
Whilst “negotiating” with the French and Scots regarding a potential marriage to Madeleine de la Tour in April 1514, Christian II had stated his intention to redeem the Orkney and Shetland Isles, pawned off to Scotland in order to finance the dowry of his aunt Margaret upon her marriage to James III. Even though the isles had been under the Scottish crown for close to fifty years, Norwegian law was still applied and both archipelagos remained under the ecclesiastical authority of the archbishop of Trondheim. Furthermore, the king had pledged in his accession charter to do his utmost to return the islands to the Norwegian realm[5]. During the negotiations, Andrew Brownhill had promised to raise the matter with his government, even going so far as to tentatively suggest that a return of the isles might become a stipulation of the marriage pact and the proposed military alliance. It was a remarkable proposition, as the princess was French and the financing of her dowry did not strictly constitute a Scottish matter of state. It was, however, a testament to the closeness which the two parties of the Auld Alliance felt towards one another.
The domestic political situation in Scotland had, however, edged towards disaster upon the return of Franco-Scottish embassy. Besides the king, thousands of common soldiers had perished alongside an archbishop, two abbots, nine earls and fourteen lords of parliament. Such slaughter was bound to prove disastrous. The late king’s widow, Margaret Tudor, elder sister of Henry VIII, had been named regent in the slain monarch’s will, but its terms also stipulated that she only keep her office as long as she remained a widow. For less than a year, Margaret led a pro-English regency which in concord with France concluded a separate peace with England, ending Scottish involvement in the War of the League of Cambrai.
However, the French party headed by the archbishop of Glasgow, James Beaton, deeply distrusted Margaret’s intentions and attitude towards Scotland’s ancient alliance with France. Distrust soon gave way to outrage when, in early August 1514, the queen regent married Archibald Douglas, the 6th Earl of Angus in a secret ceremony. Utterly infatuated with the “young witless fool” Margaret had handed her opponents a golden opportunity to strike against the very foundation of her government. Before the end of the month, the privy council had staged a coup against her, forcing the dowager queen to rescind her regency. In her place, the triumphant pro-French faction recalled the very physical embodiment of the Auld Alliance, John Stewart - the duke of Albany, from France where he had been one of the prime instigators of the attempt to wed Madeleine de la Tour to Christian II. Furthermore, in September 1514, the council struck another blow, declaring Margaret had lost her right to the custody of the royal children. To this Margaret did not consent. Alongside Douglas and her two sons she fled court for the safety of Stirling Castle, fortifying her position and rallying supporters for a showdown with the Duke of Albany[6].
John Stewart landed at Edinburgh in April 1515 alongside a sizeable French contingent and numerous supporters who had been part of the embassy to Copenhagen the year before, including Antoine d’Arces. Thus, in effect, the Franco-Scottish diplomatic mission to the court of Christian II had returned to Scotland as its new caretaker government.
John Stewart, Duke of Albany by Jean d'Albret ca. 1520. Stewart was the embodiment of Franco-Scottish relations. It was said that were the Auld Alliance to walk and talk, it would do so in the manner of the Duke of Albany. Fabulously wealthy on account of his wife's vast estates in the Auvergne, the duke was hesitant to take up the mantle of regency in his native Scotland. When he did, however, it set in motion events that would upend the fragile peace on the British isles.
By the turn of the month, Albany had been proclaimed Governor and Protector of the Realm and thus held the constitutional high ground vis-a-vis the dowager queen. In early May, Stewart led a host representing the forces of the estates and privy council towards Stirling, bristling with arms and French ordnance. Meanwhile, Henry VIII had attempted to persuade his sister to flee the country with her children for months and urged her to take up residence in Tudor London with her children.
As Albany’s forces prepared to invest Stirling Castle, Margaret finally resolved to flee south with her sons to seek her brother’s aid in deposing Stewart’s regency[7]. Her husband the Earl of Angus, conversely, decided to remain and hold the fortress against the duke’s troops until relief from England could arrive. However, the escape of the queen or “The Flight of the Rose” did not go entirely according to plan. During Margaret’s retreat, her company was set upon by outriders loyal to the Governor. In the ensuing scuffle the dowager-queen managed to flee across the River Forth alongside the one year old king James, but her newly-born son, Alexander, and his wet nurse were taken by the pursuers. Thus, the children of James IV were divided between the opposing parties.
Albany soon forced Angus to surrender control of Stirling castle, where he in turn would be imprisoned under lenient terms by the victorious pro-French faction. However, the Governor’s victory was bitter-sweet. He was finally sole regent, but the king for whom he was supposed to govern, had been abducted abroad. Furthermore, the new government was not well liked amongst the commoners on account of Albany’s reliance on French support and the many favours he consequently showered upon his continental allies. Margaret’s escape, however, changed the political landscape drastically. There were a great many in council who thought that by fleeing the jurisdiction of the privy council and effectively kidnapping the king for her brother’s court, the dowager queen had forfeited her eldest son’s claim to throne and that either the regent or the infant Alexander should succeed him.
Consequently, at an emergency meeting back in Edinburgh, the lords assembled declared James V deposed and proclaimed his newborn brother, the Duke of Ross, king Alexander IV, with Albany serving as his regent. The decision, however, was not unanimous. Alexander Home, 3rd Lord Home, and his brother William disagreed, vehemently, as did the powerful Douglas clan, fuming over the continued imprisonment of the Earl of Angus at Stirling castle.
Albany himself greatly desired to return to his wife’s estates in the Auvergne, but with the realm edging towards civil war between the guardians of the late king James’ sons, such leisure in government could scarcely be afforded. Margaret for her part had reached the English marches by June where she recuperated under the protection of the Lord Dacre, before hurrying on to London. Henry VIII welcomed his sister and nephew with open arms, settling them in the traditional lodgings of visiting Scottish monarchs, the Scotland Yard.
However, even though the Tudor coffers were still woefully empty after the burden of the War of the League of Cambrai, the single greatest concern of Albany’s government was the prospect of Margaret returning North at the head of an English army to reinstate her oldest son. To counter this, the Governor-Protector needed funds and he needed them quickly. It was then that Antoine d’Arces and Andrew Brownhill reminded the duke of Christian II’s desire to redeem the Orkney and Shetland Isles. Issued with a royal command to secure Danish support and funds for the inevitable conflict with the deposed queen-regent and her pro-English faction, d’Arces arrived in Copenhagen as the wedding festivities were drawing to a close.
They were warmly received by the king and queen, but the newly wed monarch was uneased by the prospect of a civil war between the sons of his cousin and even more so by the possibility of supporting the losing side. Thus, Brownhill’s pleas for military support were politely refused whilst earnest negotiations on the return of the isles were initiated at the royal castle. Numerous reports had been trickling in for years of the abuses handed out by English traders towards the Norse population on Iceland and despite repeated protestations, Cardinal Wolsey’s government had refused to interfere. Much embittered by this hostile attitude and knowing that Henry VIII’s separate peace with France and Scotland hadn’t won him any favours with the Emperor, the king decided to recognize Albany’s government as Scotland’s legitimate regency. As the days passed the two parties agreed to a settlement. 20.000 Rhenish guilders were taken from the dowry of Isabella and ceremoniously handed over to the Scottish ambassador who in turn signed a declaration on behalf of Alexander IV stating the return of the Orkney and Shetland Isles to the realm of Norway[8]. By September 1515, d’Arces boarded his ships, and accompanied by a Danish fleet, began the journey back to Edinburgh.
Commanding the royal Danish flagship was the gallant privateer Søren Norby, whom the king had named fief-holder at Kirkwall and tasked with restoring Danish control to the windswept isles. Furthermore, in lieu of outright military support, Christian II had pledged to try to act as a mediator between Albany and Margaret. In this regard, Norby would be representing the king himself.
As the sails of the departing fleet disappeared into the horizon, one can imagine how the mood at the court of Christian II must have reached new heights. The king had been wed, the marriage consummated and after 50 years, the sore Norwegian wound in the Atlantic had been healed. To the king himself, however, the vindication of the old North Sea provinces had been but a taste of what he hoped to accomplish. He meant to restore the union crown of Sweden - and he meant to do it sooner rather than later.
Scotland in the early 16th century after the return of the Orkney and Shetland (not shown) isles to Dano-Norwegian control.
***
So there you have it, finally an update! Christian II is wed, he's a member of the Order of the Fleece and he's scored his first foreign policy victory without firing a shot! Other things to note: the king is getting his dowry, but it's reduced already by delays and excuses. However, he's already received more than in OTL. Furthermore, he's still consorting with the burghers, so expect some new trade policies to start rolling soon! Lastly, Scotland in the 1510s isn't exactly my forte, so please let me know your thoughts.
Footnotes:
[1]In OTL, Valkendorf received a decidedly hostile welcome as Margaret of Austria was positively furious at Christian II’s continued liaison with Dyveke. There was talk of calling off the wedding, a downpayment of the dowry was denied and the actual ceremony was postponed and postponed. This was very embarrassing for Christian II, as he had already summoned all the guests and made all the required arrangements. ITL, relations between the Oldenburgs and Habsburgs are consequently MUCH better and even though he doesn’t get to get all of the promised dowry, Christian II’s wedding is a far more pleasant affair. The king’s relations with Erik Valkendorf also suffered in OTL because of the delay in the wedding. This too is also butterflied away.
[2]The one painted by Sittow, featured in last update.
[3]As in OTL
[4]In OTL this honour was denied him until his conquest of Sweden on account of his continued liaison with Dyveke.
[5]This is all OTL. Negotiations were initiated, but the matter stranded when no solid government emerged in Scotland and Christian II was soon distracted by events in Sweden.
[6]As happened in OTL.
[7]In OTL, Margaret refused to flee with her children fearing it would likely mean the deposition of James. ITTL, she’s amongst other things persuaded by the Duke of Albany’s sizeable French contingent.
[8]I’m no expert on late medieval inflation, but 20.000 guelders is 20.000 guelders and Albany isn’t in a situation to haggle over it.
“Wele wij alle forscreffne waga liff, halss etc. mot kong Hans, wor oppenbara fiendhe, oc affwaerie richesens skadhe oc forderff oc aldrig tiilstaedie sadanne affgiifft af richet, oss alle tiil skensszel...“
“We signatories will all risk our lives, necks etc. against king Hans, our manifest enemy and ward off damage and ruin to the country and never allow such taxes be put on the realm, which would shame us all...”
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Declaration by the Swedish council of the realm, 1510.
“De for then store hoffmod oc skade, han [Sten Sture the Elder] wor kæreste nådige herre, hans nådes fader, Danmarks Rige oc Indbyggere i langh tid giordt haffuer [...] tha welle vy fyllie hans nåde man aff hussæ medh wore største macht till landz eller van [...] oc ville være veluillige till ther fore for hans nåde at worre worth liff…”
“On account of the great arrogance and harm to which he [Sten Sture the Elder] has exposed our dearest most gracious lord, his grace’s father, the realm of Denmark and its inhabitants [...] we pledge to follow his grace all as one with our greatest strength at land and at sea [...] and in this we would be willing to risk our very lives for his grace...”
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Declaration of the peasantry and burghers of Funen on their willingness to aid king Hans in his struggle to reclaim his Swedish crown, 1497.
The Coats of Arms of some of the more important Swedish noble houses at the turn of the 15th century. All credit to the exceptionally talented folk at Wappenwiki.
The Union of Kalmar had been in force for less than 50 years when the eastern part of the three state collegatio began to drift away. The rising of Engelbrekt Engelbrektsson and the Swedish peasantry against Erik of Pomerania in the late 1430s, not only led to the deposition of king Erik and the onset of a bitter struggle between the Danish and Swedish realms, but also meant that Sweden itself would face a period of deep political instability. Engelbrektsson had succeeded in severing the knot tying the union together for a time, but the seeds sown by queen Margaret proved to have sprouted deep roots as not everyone saw the sundering of the Kalmar project as a positive thing.
Consequently, Sweden saw two opposing parties coalescing around the union question. Representing the amalgamated power of the council of the realm, the high nobility and prelates of the Catholic church, the unionist party, unsurprisingly, favoured a continuation of the dynastic union.
To these men of quality, the union meant peace and prosperity. By keeping the three realms united under a single monarch, rivalry and conflict would be prevented, securing the free flow of commerce across the inter-Scandinavian border. Furthermore, the authority of the monarch would naturally be curtailed, as he would have to rely on the council of the realm to manage his vast conglomerate of states. Thus, it was not for nothing that those favouring the union proclaimed themselves to be the peace party, as peace was the surest mean to advance their political and economic agenda. To this assembly of noblemen the great House of Trolle came to the forefront during the last decades of the 15th century.
Opposing the council and its noble partisans were the so-called Sture-party which relied on support from the immensely powerful Swedish commoners and peasantry. Drawing their strength from the mining district of Bergslagen and the commercial centre of Stockholm, the Stures vehemently rejected the Nordic dynastic union and advocated the establishment of a strong, centralised and independent Swedish monarchy in its place. They were, to some extent, quite successful in their endeavours. The Battle of Brunkeberg in 1471 shattered the first attempt of the new Oldenburg kings to reassert the union, but the Stures found it no easier to limit the political power of the church and aristocracy than their royal counterparts in Copenhagen.
After king Hans’ successful subjugation of the Swedes in his war against Lübeck, Svante Nilsson of the House of Natt och Dag[1] (who was related to the Sture family on his grandmother’s side) remained Lord Steward in preparation for renewed negotiations with the Danes on the future of the union. However, when he passed away in early January 1512 the old feud between the two Swedish parties flared up once more.
Sweden in the late middle ages. Eriksgatan was the traditional route of royal acclamation undertaken by medieval Swedish kings. Full version here.
As the realm was still reeling from the devastating war with king Hans, the unionist party seized the opportunity to capitalise on the prevailing war weariness and sought to proclaim one of their own Lord Steward. Another Sture at the helm of the stewardship would mean continued warfare with the Oldenburg monarchs, they argued. Consequently, the council of the realm had the former churchman Erik Trolle declared Lord Steward at a meeting at Arboga in early 1512. Erik boasted strong unionist credentials as his father had been the most prominent domestic adversary of the elder Sture. Additionally, two of his sisters had respectively married the prominent Danish councillor and admiral of the realm, Jens Holgersen Ulfstand and the Swedish councillor of the realm, Nils Bosson Grip who had been a fervent supporter of king Hans.
For a time it seemed as if the pro-union party had managed to secure the realm and wrest control from the Stures. Lord Svante’s son, Sten, and a cabale of his late father’s partisans, however, refused to acknowledge the peace party’s candidate and declined the council’s request to hand over the royal castles in their possession, thus retaining their economic and military advantage. As spring bloomed that very same year, Sten Svantesson travelled extensively throughout Sweden and put his case directly to the commoners and peasantry whilst penning letters to the various fief-holders throughout the realm. By March, Svantesson had secured the loyalty of Öster and Västergötland, Dalarna and the stout mountain men of Bergslagen.
Around the time of midsummer, Svantesson had gathered a considerable force of armed peasants and regular troops, at whose head he showed up for a supposedly conciliatory meeting in Stockholm. As the city and its castle welcomed the forces of the Sture party, the unionists camped at the Franciscan monastery on Riddarholmen (the Knights’ Islet). Despite ongoing negotiations between the two parties, tensions began to soar. On the night of the first of July 1512, a rumour suddenly arose claiming that the partisans of the council were preparing to storm the city and execute Sten Svantesson and his chief supporters. Fuelled by the presence of some drunken partisans of the Stures a full blown riot erupted with hundreds of armed peasants and men-at-arms marching towards the aristocratic encampment.
However, the councilar forces had been alerted of the impending danger and under the command of Erik Abrahamsson Leijonhufvud the knights, squires and sworn men of the high nobility had formed up in plate and mail with swords drawn and crossbows aimed at the approaching enemy. Stalled by this show of force the would-be attackers fell back in order to reassert their positions.
The appearance of the venerable archbishop of Uppsala, Jakob Ulvsson Örnfot, at the scene seemed to have poured some quantity of oil over the troubled waters, and by all accounts it seemed as if the potentially catastrophic riot had been nipped in the bud. However, just as tensions were about to deflate, someone, somewhere on the island loosened a crossbow bolt, severely injuring one of the Sture partisans.
The shot was returned by the attackers and soon carnage reigned on the waters of Riddarholmen. The disorderly, somewhat drunken and leaderless group of Sture partisans were crashed against the shields of the outnumbered unionists like waves upon rocks, suffering dozens of casualties before retreating[2]. Although there is no proof in the source material of either sides premeditating the hostilities on the Knight’s Islet, the deep divide between the two sides was considerably enlarged. Furthermore it wouldn’t prove to be the last time Svantesson would be incapable of controlling his fervent supporters.
As morning came, smoke was still gushing in over the city whilst the passages to the island were besieged by Sture troops. Having been alerted to the scene, young Svantesson mobilised his entire force and rode out to confront Erik Trolle himself. Hopelessly outnumbered, Trolle caved in. The council of the realm might have been able to stave off an unruly mob, but they stood no chance of resisting the assembled might of the Sture pretender, let alone contending the many castles and cities proclaiming him regent.
Consequently, on the 23rd of July 1512, Sten Svantesson was proclaimed Lord Steward and immediately afterwards began to style himself as Sten Sture, taking the hallowed name of his great-grandmother. He was only 19 years of age[3].
Vädersolstavlan (The Sun Dog Painting) is the oldest preserved depiction of the city of Stockholm in colour. The city’s strategic location at a point where Lake Mälaren flows into the Baltic Sea led to it prospering by way of trade with the Hanseatic cities. Consequently, Stockholm had deep economic and cultural ties to mercantile hubs such as Lübeck and Danzig. By the turn of the 15th century the city had a sizeable German population.
However, as his clever play to his family’s traditional base of support goes to show, the younger Sture was no youthful amateur. In 1510 he had received much praise for his conduct on the battle decks of the Hanseatic fleet as it scourged the Danish shores and he had even fought in a pitched battle against the later Christian II outside the walls of Bohus in Norway.
Still, although a settlement had been reached with the council, the cleavages in Swedish society had deepened after the Battle on the Riddarholm. A testament to this is the fact that even at the conciliatory feast at Stockholm castle, the two sides came to blows. Erik Abrahamsson Leijonhufvud got into a heated argument with Gustav Kristersson Vasa over the fighting on the island and mortally wounded him with his sword[4]. Leijonhufvud fled the city and took sanctuary at a nearby Dominican monastery. The remaining bishops and temporal councillors soon scattered, fearing the retribution of the victorious Sture.
The younger Sture, however, did not retaliate and proved to be rather magnanimous in his triumph. Leijonhufvud was passed over as fief-holder at any important castles and forced to pay compensation to Vasa’s family, but was not harmed in any other way. Feeling secure in his command over the realm, the new Lord Protector began a tour of his provinces and worked to tighten his grip over the country even further.
In the summer of 1513 another reprieve was agreed upon with the Danes whether the Swedes would accept Christian II’s as their king or pay the stipulated tribute. Sten Sture the Younger, however, had no intention of accepting either terms. The extension of the truce between the two halves of the Kalmar Union would serve as the cover from under which the Lord Protector would strive to undo the knots tying the union together. By 1514 he had begun to formulate claims on the Norwegian border province of Bohus as well as other alleged grievances against Christian II.
It was then, in the moment of the Sture party’s apparent triumph that a new player entered the stage.
Archbishop Jakob Ulvsson Örnfot as depicted in the church of Yttergran, approximately 50 km from Stockholm. Ulvsson's resignation paved the way for the entrance of the Stures' most deadly enemy upon the political stage of late medieval Sweden.
In the autumn of 1514, the archbishop of Uppsala, Jakob Ulvsson Örnfot, had proclaimed his intention to resign his high office. After 45 years of service in the church and sickened by the bloody power struggle between the two pro and anti union forces, the 80 years old Ulvsson was in declining health. As his successor, he nominated the 26 year old Gustav Trolle, son of the deposed Lord Steward Erik and newly elected dean of the bishopric of Linköping[5].
Having finished his studies at the University of Cologne[6], the younger Trolle had speedily relocated to Rome when he learned of his chances of succeeding to the archbishopric and was thus eminently placed to further his own candidacy at the very knee of the holy father. Despite the support of both the incumbent archbishop and, grudgingly, Sten Sture the Younger, the papal court made slow process of accepting Trolle and only endorsed him the in the autumn of 1515. However, when the pope finally gave the young prelate his nod of approval he also bequeathed on him three important boons. First of all, Trolle received the power to place a person or persons under interdict, denying them the right of partaking in mass and receiving communion. Secondly, he was granted papal mandate to equip and maintain 400 men-at-arms for his own defence. If his personal forces would not suffice, he was, thirdly, given the right to request assistance from the head of the temporal authorities: i.e. the king, Christian II.
This was, of course, unacceptable to the Younger Sture. Gustav Trolle’s fanatical hatred of the new Lord Steward’s family was well known and his new papal-given powers were seen as a dire threat to the Stures’ political programme of enforcing a strong central authority. Furthermore, as the peace with Denmark expire, the prospect of Trolle inviting Christian II into the country if the Swedish spiritual and temporal authorities were to come to blows sent a chill down the spine of every anti-union magnate.
Before Trolle had even returned to his native Sweden, the Sture response materialised. The archbishopric’s castle, Almarestäket, was situated at a strategically significant position on lake Mälaren. From its impressive walls, the defenders not only commanded the economically important road towards Enköping and Bergslagen, but were also in a position to dominate the sea route between Stockholm and Uppsala, the temporal and spiritual centres in Sweden. Deeming such a fortress to be too important to leave in his opponent’s position, Sten Sture demanded the archbishop surrender the castle.
For a man of such pride and ambition as Gustav Trolle, such a demand was ludicrous. He was the defender of the holy catholic church in Sweden, the spiritual equal of the Lord Steward, the natural heir to the pro-union party and he had no desire to hand over his most impressive military asset. Despite the ardent efforts of the rest of the council of the realm, the political power struggle between the two young men soon escalated into open warfare as both sides feuded with each other. In the summer of 1516 Sture troops stormed the city of Nyköping, which had been held by Steen Oxenstierna, a noble associated with the Peace Party[7]. As the forces of the Lord Steward approached the fortifications, they were met with scorn and disdain from the garrison who openly proclaimed their loyalty to the king in Copenhagen by drinking toasts to his health in full view of the besiegers. However, the Lord Steward’s men made short work of the defenders and Oxenstierna was taken in irons to Stockholm where he soon began to denounce his allies as traitors in league with the Danes.
Based on Oxenstierna’s testimony, the Younger Sture struck against his other enemies. The old archbishop, Ulvsson, was placed under house arrest whilst the former Lord Steward Erik Trolle and many other members of the aristocracy were imprisoned alongside Oxenstierna in Stockholm.
By October 1516, the Stures finally felt secure enough to move against Almarestäket. Seeing the troops of the Lord Protector in front of his wall whilst his remaining allies, friends and family were taken away to an uncertain life in prison, one would think the young archbishop would have had ample opportunity to consider caving in. However, Gustav Trolle refused to do so. He dauntlessly paced the battlements whilst giving good cheer to his beleaguered garrison and denouncing any of the besiegers who came within earshot for persecuting him and the church. Indeed, his position was not at all as grim as one would’ve thought. The canons and deacons of Uppsala remained loyal, whilst dissatisfaction amongst the nobility over the Lord Steward’s wanton imprisonment of his political adversaries increased by the day.
Furthermore, even though it seemed that no help would be forthcoming from the domestic enemies of the Lord Steward, Trolle had other strings on his bow.
He had invoked his papally ordained right to request temporal assistance in the defence of the church by writing Christian II in Copenhagen and begged him to come North and protect the church with all his power and might.
The king, he would soon discover, was all too happy to oblige.
Author's Note:
Whew! Almost two months without an update! Life's been happily busy for me lately: I went to see my girlfriend's family in the Low Countries, participated in a seminar where I presented the findings of my BA-paper and got two new jobs! Besides, for some reason, it was really difficult writing this update. Consequently, thoughts and criticisms are very much appreciated! Also, do people like the 15/16th century Scandinavian quotes? Or would you prefer the to see only the English translations?
Footnotes:
[1]Meaning Night and Day
[2]This ALMOST happened in OTL. Only the presence of cooler heads prevented the stand-off from turning into a battle. Everything else up to this point is OTL.
[3]I’ll refer to Sten Svantesson as Sten Sture the Younger from this point on.
[4]This happened too in OTL, only the quarrel was over something else and Vasa didn’t die. I have a hard time finding out exactly which Vasa this guy was and what his relation to the Gustav Vasa is. Erik Abrahamsson Leijonhufvud had married a Vasa noblewoman in january 1512, so this encounter really strikes home how deep the division in the Swedish nobility was. Any help would be appreciated.
[5]As OTL. The Archbishop of Uppsala and the bishop of Linköping were the most prestigious and powerful ecclesiastical titles in late medieval Sweden.
[6]As I mentioned in the prologue, Northern Germany was primarily the place where Scandinavian churchmen studied.
“Hence it comes that all armed prophets have been victorious, and all unarmed prophets have been destroyed.”
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Niccolò Machiavelli, the Prince 1513
“Dansken, juten, tysken och djävulen alla rädes Dalasocken.” “The Dane, the Jute, the German and the Devil all fear Dalarna Parish.”
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Sir Hemmingh Gadh, 1508
As previously mentioned, the Peace of Malmø in 1512 had stipulated that the Swedish realm was to either accept the Danish monarch as its king or pay him a yearly tribute. During the turbulent years following the deaths of king Hans and Svante Nilsson (the father of Sten Sture the Younger) the resurgent Sture Party had purposely delayed the issue to such a degree that when the Great Ecclesiastical Struggle between the Younger Sture and archbishop Gustav Trolle descended into open warfare, Christian II and his government was of one mind to break the back of the intransigent Stures by force.
At a meeting in Copenhagen in early 1517, the king was given constitutional mandate by the Danish council of the realm to initiate a feud against the Lord Steward in order to defend his “... obvious claim and right to the Swedish crown and defend the unjustly persecuted Sir Gustav.”[1] Consequently, plans were made for the relief of Almarestäket and the archbishop's vindication. However, time was of the essence: the episcopal forces had been besieged for almost half a year, and could not be expected to withstand the Sture troops for much longer.
Tentative diplomatic feelers had already been extended to the other Baltic states. As a result, Sten Sture the Younger had been all but completely encircled by either hostile or malevolently neutral powers. Christian II had signed a letter of alliance with the Moscowian grand duke in 1516 and at the same time, his ambassador in Poland had received Krakow's assurances that the trading city of Danzig would adhere to an economic blockade of Sweden[2]. At the courts of the German and Livonian Orders, the king’s messenger had been promised the grand masters’ unwavering support in the coming struggle. Furthermore, both Henry VIII and Albany’s regency had proclaimed their support for Christian’s endeavours[3]. The former as a way to dissuade the Danish king from rendering further support to his sister’s usurpator, the latter to maintain it. However, one problem remained unsolved for the otherwise remarkably successful diplomatic offensive of 1516/17: the question of the last downpayment of queen Isabella’s dowry.
The Danish ambassadors in Brussels had been unable to obtain the remaining 30.000 guelders. The Habsburg government was woefully short of revenue as the war against the duke of Guelders was still being fought in the North. Emperor Maximilian’s Netherlandish viceroy, Margaret, sang the same old tune of putting pressure on the contrarious Wendish Hansa, but her vague efforts proved inefficient. Still, the diplomatic activity at the Brussels court did result in some concessions from Lübeck, as the leader of the Wendish union promised not to directly aid the Lord Steward’s forces against king Christian.
The Voyage of the White King Against the Turks, wood-cutting illustration from Der Weisskönig, ca. 1515 by Hans Burgmair. Thanks to a purposive effort by king Hans, the Royal Danish Navy at the turn of the 15th century was a modern and powerful force, considered by many to be the strongest fleet in the Baltic.
While the diplomatic offensive proceeded, the military preparations was undertaken at great haste. By the summer of 1517, the Royal Danish Navy stood out to sea from its Copenhagen dockyards carrying a motley force of some 4000 noble retainers and men-at-arms from Scania, Zealand and Funen as well as levied peasants. Several mercenary companies from Northern Germany had also been mustered at great haste. However, the combined might of the Danish rostjeneste[4] had not been given enough time to assemble whilst the ducal forces in Holstein hadn't even been able to gather. This had without a doubt its roots in duke Frederik's reluctance to assist his nephew in scoring a prestigious military victory, which would have transferred Christian’s focus from Sweden to the duchies of Schleswig and Holstein.
Three capable naval commanders were in charge of the royal expedition, inadvertently representing each of the three Scandinavian realms. At the head was the daring privateer Søren Norby, freshly recalled from service in the Atlantic. He was aided in command by the wealthiest man in Norway, Karl Knutsson of the House of Tre Rosor[5] and the Swedish nobleman Joakim Trolle, the paternal uncle of the besieged archbishop[6].
The fleet made good progress through the Sound of Kalmar whilst raiding the Småland coast viciously, burning the castle of Stegeholm to the ground and capturing its commander. By late July the fleet had reached the Stockholm Archipelago where the army disembarked in August. Soon the surrounding countryside was thoroughly harrowed: the fires, supposedly, visible as far away as Almarestäket. To Gustav Trolle, it was the sign of approaching vindication - to the Stures it was a bloody foreign invasion, facilitated by an intransigent traitor.
When the archbishop saw the Stockholm countryside burning, he is said to have gleefully exclaimed: “... the half-hoses are here! Now the time is at hand for me to pour benediction on my enemies and the unruly peasantry and bless them with my sharp glaive!”[7] However, the Union commanders knew full well that their army was far too small to crush Sten Sture in the field. Instead, their main objective was to fight their way across Uppland, relieve the archbishop and take him and as many of his men as possible back to the safety of Gotland[8].
This had already been deduced by the Lord Steward who had amassed a sizeable host of stout Dalarna peasants as well as a great number of armoured cavalry, provided by the local nobility. Although he commanded a numerically superior force, the Younger Sture still felt unsure whether or not he would carry the day if it came to open battle. Consequently, he made one last attempt to reconcile with his nemesis, Trolle. The Lord Steward’s chancellor and a couple of counsellors made their way through the siege lines outside Almarestäket and demanded to speak to the beleaguered prelate. Attempts at reconciliation had already been undertaken by the Stures twice before and the archbishop had rejected them each and every time. The third time did not prove to be the charm, even though Sten Sture promised Trolle that he would keep his office and titles, if only he surrendered his castle and swore him allegiance as the steward of the Swedish crown. The archbishop replied angrily that he knew no other representative of Sweden’s sovereign than those of king Christian and that he would only open his gates to that monarch’s lieutenants.
The Political Situation in the Balticaround the time of the relief of Archbishop Trolle.
On the 10th of August, the royal army disembarked on Ladugårdslandet to the north east of Stockholm and advanced on the village of Vädla. The Danish van was immediately attacked by Sture cavalry, headed by the Lord Steward. The onslaught was so fierce that the royal troops were forced to give ground. Karl Knutsson, who commanded the vanguard, attempted to rally his men, but was set upon by the Younger Sture himself. The two commanders exchanged blow after blow and after a fierce contest, Knutsson was fighting for his life with his back against a hedge. Just as the Lord Steward was about to run his opponent through, Knutsson swung himself over the hedge and escaped towards the Danish main force. The Sture Chronicle[9] described the encounter as:
“Hade ey then gårdhen warith / en sorgeligh färd hade the thå farith.”
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“Had the hedge not been there / a sad road they’d had to fare.”
Had Knutsson indeed been slain by the Lord Steward it is very possible that the rest of the skirmish would have fared a lot worse for King Christian’s troops.
Battle was now joined in earnest. As the royal cavalry fell back towards their infantry advancing in support, Sture gave the signal for his own foot to descend the Brunkeberg. Aboard the Union fleet, the pause in the enemy onslaught alerted Søren Norby to the dangers of his men being completely overrun and smashed against the sea[10]. The Danish host was battered by repeated charges of the Swedish cavalry and Joakim Trolle, in overall command of the ground forces, began a fighting retreat towards the beach. However, as the Sture foot joined the fray, the Danish levies broke into a confused rout and even though Norby had brought many smaller boats and vessels close to the shore, a great many men drowned in their attempt to reach safety.
One can only imagine the sense of elation, pride and adrenaline pumping through the barely 25 year old Sten Sture as he witnessed the confused rout of his hated enemy’s would-be rescuers. In Stockholm, at least, the mood was one of exultant celebration as the Lord Steward entered the city at the head of his bloodied cavalry and retainers, his own banner being held high by the young nobleman Gustav Vasa[11]. Hundreds if not a thousand of the enemy force had been slain or drowned in the fight, and the citizens of Stockholm gloated gleefully over the three captured standards and numerous prisoners the Younger Sture brought with him into the city.
The Battle of Vädla shattered what remained of the Peace Party. Its remaining adherents either flocked to the Lord Steward’s banner or scattered into hiding at their rural castlets. Sitting victorious at Stockholm Castle, Sten Sture moved in for the kill. He issued a summons for a Riksdag of the Estates (akin to a national assembly) which was to issue a final judgement on whether it was he or the archbishop who was the rightful lord of Almarestäket. Although the council of the realm theoretically was the highest court in the country, Lord Sten was still not certain he could carry a majority. Consequently, representatives from the lower estates were called as well, all but ensuring a pro-Sture verdict. Gustav Trolle was given safe conduct to the capital so that he might defend himself and argue his case.
Drawing by German landsknecht engineer Paul Dolnstein depicting a battle in Västergötland circa 1502. On the right Swedish peasants armed with crossbows and wearing half helmets face off German mercenaries wielding pikes. The armies of the Swedish peasantry proved a formidable fighting force when led by skilled commanders.
By November 1517 the assembly had convened in Stockholm and begun its deliberations. Appearing before the delegates, the Lord Steward violently denounced the archbishop as a traitor and murderer who had brought death and destruction on his native land by allying with the plundering Danes. Gustav Trolle, furthermore, had in the eyes of the Younger Sture proved himself an ungodly man, unworthy of his high office and his actions had brought shame on the ecclesiastical estate. He was in other words, not fit to lead the Swedish church. His speech incensed the assembled commoners and peasantry and as Trolle rose to retort, he was met with cries and scorn from the audience. For his part, Gustav Trolle’s defence was a defence of the church and the political programme of his ancestors. He was no murderer nor was he a traitor: He had been given spiritual as well as temporal mandate by the pope to protect himself and he had only supported the king which the estates themselves had elected. If there were any murderers and traitors present, it were those men who had killed his servants and denied the rightly elected king his crown[12]. Furthermore, the title of archbishop was the pope’s to bestow and revoke and as such, no temporal court had any jurisdiction over the matter.
Although Trolle’s points might have been valid from a legal perspective, his fiery defence only served to enrage the commoners even further. The Lord Steward’s demands were carried with an overwhelming majority.
The Riksdag declared Trolle deposed and mandated Lord Sten to take Almarestäket and raze it to the ground so no enemy of the realm, foreign or domestic, ever again would use it to threaten Sweden’s liberty. In Trolle's place, the Lord Steward appointed the former bishop and vitriolic anti-Danish politician sir Hemming Gadh to the office of archbishop[13]. In order to further bind the reluctant bishops and members of the higher nobility to the court’s decision, Sture demanded everyone present to affix their seals to the final verdict. The document proclaimed that the signatories would remain united in their opposition to Gustav Trolle and that they would never again allow him to occupy the office of archbishop - regardless whatever the Pope himself might think. The clergy had been terrified into submission by the forceful actions of the Lord Steward and only Hans Brask, the bishop of Linköping, managed to protest, by secretly affixing a scrap of paper underneath the wax bearing the words, “... this I do against my will.”[14]
The verdict, however, did not affect the archbishop’s iron resolve to continue the defence of Almarestäket. Unfortunately, the garrison at the archiepiscopal castle did not share his sentiments. Upon the prelate’s return, a majority of his men mutinied and forced a surrender of the fortress, hoping to be spared by the Lord Steward, who had arrived at the siege lines hot on the archbishop's heels.
Determined to meet his tormentors in the splendour of a prince of the church, Trolle donned his mitre and cope before lowering the drawbridge and moved in procession with his men and deacons towards the siege lines. At first, the sea of levied peasants parted for the prelate’s party, but the atmosphere soon soured when men who had been present at the Riksdag recognised the archbishop. Before Trolle could reach Sten Sture’s tent, a group of enraged commoners had begun to hurl insults. Curses and denunciations was swiftly followed by stones and rotten fruit. The squires and men-at-arms escorting the archbishop quickly melted away in the sea of violently angry peasants, many of whom had lost farms and family members in the Danish scourging of the Stockholm hinterland.
When Sten Sture was alerted of the uproar in the distance, he jumped on his horse and hurried towards the scene, the banners of his office streaming behind him. However, when he dismounted, Gustav Trolle laid bloodied and bruised on the ground, his magnificent robes dirtied by mud, filth and blood and his neck cleaved by a woodsman’s axe[15].
Standing over the body of his most magnificent enemy, Sten Sture proclaimed his sadness at the prelate’s death, but also defended himself by declaring that the archbishop’s “... wild disposition breathed death and destruction against all those he strove to undo.”[16]
Death and destruction, however, would all too soon return to Sweden, and it would be from beyond the grave that Gustav Trolle was to do the most harm to the Sture cause.
Footnotes:
[1]As his accession charter stipulated.
[2]As in OTL.
[3]Also happened in OTL, but the reasons have changed of course.
[4]Meaning something like horse service. Essentially the armoured noble cavalry and their retainers. Also known as adelsfanen, “the noble banner.”
[5]Whose father, ironically, had rebelled against King Hans and consequently ‘executed’ supposedly on the orders of Christian II when he served as viceroy of Norway. See the introduction for more info. Knutsson, who was descended from some of the most prominent families in Sweden, Norway AND Denmark, hated Sten Sture the Younger passionately for the wrongs he and his family had done his mother.
[6]A similar attack was attempted OTL under the command of the very same men.
[7]My own translation. A hose was sort of the pants of the middle ages. I have absolutely no idea why Trolle referred to the Danes as “Half-hoses.” The quote is attributed to him, but I find it quite plausible that it is a later invention of the Vasa chroniclers.
[8]Also OTL.
[9]In OTL, confusion made the Danish sailors fear the Swedes would storm aboard the ships and consequently put them to sea. ITTL, Norby rallies his men and manages to keep several ships close by the beach to take on survivors. The defeat, although still substantial, is thus not as catastrophic as in OTL.
[10]Gustav Vasa was a favourite of Sten Sture and his personal banner bearer in many of the battles of the late Kalmar period.
[11]The Sture Chronicle is a chronicle in verse that details the time of the Sture regencies.
[12]Which was technically true, as the Swedish estates had accepted Christian as the next king of Sweden.
[13]As happened in OTL.
[14]Which he also did in our time and thereby avoided losing his head at the great Stockholm Bloodbath.
[15]In OTL, Gustav Trolle was assaulted quite badly as he exited his stronghold and only the timely arrival of Sten Sture saved him from being devoured by the mob.
[16]These actually being the words used to describe of the archbishop in OTL's Skibby Chronicle. I imagine the Younger Sture would have agreed with such a characterization.
Chapter 6 For the Good of Yourself and Your Children
“Vi ere tilsinds, at ville have det til en endelig Ende med denne lange og svare Feide, som os og de Svenske mellem er, og agte derfor med Guds Hjælp udi vor egen Person at drage ind i Sverrig med al den Magt, vi kunne afstæd komme. Al vor og Rigets høieste Velfærd hænger paa dette Tog.”
“We are of a mind to seek a final solution to this prolonged and severe feud, which is being waged between us and the Swedes, therefore it is our intention, with the help of God, in our own person to enter into Sweden with all the might we can muster. The entire welfare of ourselves and the realm depend on this campaign.”
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Letter from Christian II to Eske Bille, 13th of June 1518
Even though the murder of Gustav Trolle was not widely mourned in Sweden, the archbishop’s death put the Sture government in a thoroughly difficult position. Albeit the Lord Steward had not directly ordered the slaying of Trolle, there was widespread suspicion that the Younger Sture had had a Henry II moment during the last stages of the siege of Almarestäket. Any implication in the murder of an archbishop would be disastrous for the Lord Steward, as it would leave him open to persecution from the church and lend credit to the cause of his opponents. Consequently, the Sture Party desperately sought to distance itself from the murder. A few peasants were arrested at the scene of the murder and sent to Stockholm in chains, but this desperate act did little to remove the taint of suspicion. However, the stalking-horse behind which the Stures sought to hide themselves was too thinly built and did not result in averting scandal. If anything it weakened the party’s otherwise considerable support amongst the commoners in Dalarna and Uppland.
Furthermore, the provisional archbishop of Uppsala, Hemming Gadh, was a well known Sture partisan and as such, his assurances that the Lord Steward had no hand in his predecessor’s murder were hardly convincing. The remaining Swedish bishops had fled Stockholm after the Riksdag of 1517 and sought sanctuary within their own castlets and to drag them from their manor houses would only enforce Lord Sten’s growing reputation as an enemy of the church. The other Scandinavian archbishops of Trondheim and Lund were either Christian II’s men like Erik Valkendorf or staunch proponents of the church’s sovereignty like Birger Gunnersen. Either way, to Sten Sture, it must have been as if it would only be a matter of time before his excommunication became fact.
In order to counter these grave threats, the Lord Steward needed ecclesiastical support from a comparative if not higher standing. Luckily for the Younger Sture, the perfect candidate had arrived in Stockholm from Copenhagen in early 1518. Giovannangelo Arcimboldi[1], legate and special envoy of Pope Leo X, had travelled North to peddle indulgences.
The Pope as a Pedlar of Indulgences, wood-cutting illustration by Hans Holbein ca. 1524. The sale of indulgences had by the turn of the 15th century become a thriving business and a major source of income for the Catholic Church.
Arcimboldi, originally a minor Milanese clergyman, was a thoroughbred sycophant well versed in the cloak and dagger schemes of the late renaissance papal court, but he had found little support for his business at the court of Christian II. The king’s convictions mirrored those of the humanist thinker Erasmus and as such, the legate’s endeavours had been largely fruitless, some of his pamphlets even being confiscated and burned in the courtyard of Copenhagen castle[2].
In Sweden, however, Arcimboldi found the Lord Steward far more receptive and was even given passports for his servants so they could travel to Finland and expand the trade. Thus it came to pass that the papal legate soon devoted himself wholly to the Sture cause. This, the Younger Sture accomplished by dangling the vacant archiepiscopal see of Uppsala in front of the fiercely ambitious Italian. At first glance, it appeared to be a sound tactical move, but to put the mitre of Sweden’s most hallowed ecclesiastical office on the brow of a foreigner was a deeply controversial act, which infuriated the higher nobility. Worst of all, Sir Hemming Gadh, the bypassed archbishop of Uppsala, left Stockholm in anger, vowing to defend his country in the field.
Arcimboldi’s own entourage was deeply troubled by his negotiations with the Lord Steward and his principal secretary, a Westphalian clergyman named Didrik Slagheck[3], subsequently fled Stockholm with a considerable amount of his master’s revenue and records. In Copenhagen, Slagheck was received warmly and commended for his actions by the king’s chancellor, Ove Bille, who tasked him to return to Rome as an envoy of Christian II in order to counter the machinations of his previous superior.
If the response to Trolle’s murder had resulted in little more than a cautious growl amongst Sweden’s bishops, the reply from Denmark and Norway had the force of a tornado. The venerable archbishop of Lund, Birger Gunnersen, rose to the occasion with gusto, all hatred of Christian II’s transgressions against the Norwegian church forgotten. Gravely as the imprisonment of the bishop of Hamar might have been, the slaying of a prince of the church was a capital sin with a capital s, and as the primate of Sweden it was Gunnersen’s duty to ensure that the murderers were punished. Consequently, when Christian II’s emissaries arrived at the Cathedral Chapter of Lund, they found the usually pugnacious archbishop remarkably pliable. Birger Gunnersen had already composed a letter of excommunication addressed to the people of Sweden, wherein he declared that:
“Vi Byrge med Gyds Naade, Erchebisp udi Lund, Sueriges Første och Paffvens Legat. Hilse edir alle verdige Faedre, Biscoper [...] Strenge oc aedle Riddere oc gode Maend, Sverigis Rigis Raad, menige Prelater oc Clericie… oc menige Almue [...] vi kundgiøre obenbare Steen Svantessøn Ridder med sine Tilhengere oc medfølgere udi den hellige Kirckis [...] oc Paffvens Band oc andre Piner oc Kirckens Strengheder for den obenbare Bands gierning hand haffver med Vaaben oc Verie feydet,forfuld oc miurdet [..] verdige Fader Her Gustaff Erchebisp udi Vpsalle, paa hans oc Domkirckens Slaat Steckit...”
“We, Birger, by the grace of God archbishop of Lund, papal as well as first legate of Sweden, greets all you noble fathers, bishops, strict and noble knights and noblemen, the council of the Swedish realm, prelates and clergy... and the common people [...] We publicly proclaim that the knight Steen Svantesson[4]alongside his partisans and supporters are put under the Pope’s and the Holy Church’s ban[5]and other strict penalties on account of the obvious crime of having by force of arms and panoply feuded, persecuted and murdered [...] the just father, sir Gustav, archbishop of Uppsala at his and his archbishopric’s castle of Almarestäket...”[6]
Drawing of Birger Gunnersen’s sarcophagus in Lund Cathedral showing a sculpture of the archbishop by the Westphalian artist Adam van Düren. On his left, the archbishop’s crosier is depicted whilst on his right his primate’s cross is seen. It was in his capacity as primate of Scandinavia that Gunnersen effectuated the excommunication of the Sture Party.
To Christian II, Gunnersen’s bull of excommunication was a heaven-sent propaganda coup. The royal printing works immediately began mass producing copies of the archbishop’s letter, which in turn were distributed to the fief-holders in the Scanian provinces for further publication across the Dano-Swedish border. Likewise, Swedish pilgrims returning from the shrine of St. Olaf in Trondheim were equipped with prints of the bull, thereby spreading the news throughout the northernmost part of Sweden[7].
However, the Oldenburg claim to the Swedish throne could not only rest on the cause of avenging the Sture Party’s crimes against the Church. Christian II might have used the bull of excommunication as an excuse to invade Sweden in the guise of the temporal authority’s avenging arm, but if he hoped to secure his succession to the throne, he needed to soothe the populace. Under the auspices of chancellor Bille and the burgher mayors of Helsingborg and Copenhagen, a manifesto was drafted which would outline the king’s plans for maintaining his hold over the eastern part of the Kalmar Union. The royal proclamation was a curious mix of threats and promises, but the overall theme was the constitutional mandate Christian II had to the Swedish throne as a result of the 1512 Peace of Malmø.
“Vi Christen med Gudz Naade, Danmarckis, Norgis, Vendis oc Gottis Konning, Vdvald Konning til Sverig […] giører alle vitterligt, at som menoge Sveriges Rigis Indbyggare endrecteligen kaaret oc keyst os for en veldig Herre oc Konning at vaere offver Sverigis Rige [...] Derimod haffver her Steen Svantessen [...] veldeligen holdit os faare Sverigis Rige, mod Gudz skiel oc Raetferdighet, oc dertil haffver belagt, bestoldit og miurdet paa den hellige Kirckis Slaat Steckit en vied Crismed Sverigis Riges Erchebisp.
For saadan Wchristelige Misgierninger, som hand mod Gud, den hellige Kircke oc os giort oc bedreffvit haffver oc end ydermere acter at giøre, acter vi med Gudz hiep oc med Sverigis Vold oc Mact at komme til Sverigis Rige [...] oc derpaa haffver vi nu udsend til Sverigis Rige oc Findland imod vore Fiender oc Vvenner it merckeligt Tall Krigsfolck, Indlendisk oc Vdlendiske, tilbørligen at straffe dem, som udi Riiget opsaette sig mot os.”
“Thi bede vi oc strengelig biude alle som bygge oc bo udi Sverige, Findland… oc fuldkommelig raade, at i nu strax giffver eder til os som til eders rette kaarne Herre oc Konning. Vi ville holde eder alle ved S. Erick Konnings Low oc Ret oc gode gamle Sedvaner...[*]... ath wij skulle holle oc styrcke christendomen vdi en cristelig tro, som erlige oc christelige förster vdi fordwms tid giort hatfue, oc icke andet tilstede, en som den menige christelige kirke oc Rommere stoel i fordwm tid holdet oc beslwttet halfue.”
“... Jtem skulle wij holle menige ridderskabet ved alle deris friheder oc preuilegier oc ved gudz oc Suerigis lag oc gode gamble seduaner, nydendis deris gotz arifue oc eyedem (sic) som redeligt оc börligt er....”
“... Jtem skulle wij holle alle Suerigis rigis köpsteder oc köbstedzuiend, tesligest menige bönder oc almue, ved deris friheieder oc preuilegier oc ved gudz oc Suerigis lag oc ret oc gode gamble cristelige seduaner…[**]”
“Thi lader det ingenlunde, saa framt i ville vide eders oc eders Børns Beste oc Bistand.[*]”
"We Christian, by the grace of God, king of Denmark, Norway, the Wends and the Goths, elected king of Sweden [...] hereby proclaim, that the common people of Sweden in unison has chosen and elected us as a mighty lord and king over the Swedish realm [...] against this Sir Steen Svantesen [...] has violently kept us from the realm of Sweden against God’s decision and justice and in addition to this has besieged, robbed and murdered on the Holy Church’s castle of Almarestäket the consecrated and anointed archbishop of Sweden[8].
On account of these unchristian misdeeds which he has committed against God, the Holy Church and ourselves and those he yet plans to commit, we are of a mind to, with the help of God and Sweden’s power and might, to enter the realm of Sweden [...] and therefore we have now dispatched to the Swedish realm and Finland, against our foes and enemies, a great amount of soldiers, native as well as foreign, to punish those in the realm who would defy us.
Thus we ask and strictly command all the inhabitants of Sweden and Finland… to immediately accept us as your rightly chosen Lord and King. We shall govern you all by the law of St. Erik and the customs of old...[*]... we promise to protect and strengthen Christendom and the Christian faith as honest and religious princes have done in the past, and not to diverge from the decisions of the common Christian Church and the Roman See.
[...]
Likewise, we shall preserve the freedoms and privileges of the common knighthood by the law of God and St. Erik as well as the customary practices, they shall enjoy their inheritance, lands and property as is just and proper.
[...]
Likewise we shall preserve the rights of Sweden’s market towns and its citizens, just as we shall preserve the liberties and privileges of the common peasantry as they are kept by God’s and Sweden’s law and justice and the good old Christian customary practices[**].
[...]
This we bid you do for the good of yourself and your children[*]."
Christian II’s banner of conquest thus carried two pennants: The temporal authority’s duty to protect
the Church and his lawful selection as chosen heir to the Swedish throne.
To enforce his claim to the throne the king issued a call to arms throughout his domains. Peasants were either levied or forced to pay a fee to avoid the summons in all the provinces of the Danish realm, just like the noble cavalry was rallied from Jutland to Scania. To augment his forces, a concerted effort was made to recruit mercenary troops from the continent, especially northern Germany. Furthermore, a treaty of friendship was signed with the new king of France, Francis I, which allowed for a contingent of French soldiers, veterans from the Battle of Marignano, to join the king’s host. However, attempts to to recruit highland troops for the campaign stranded on the continued disturbances between Albany and the dowager queen Mary[9].
The arrival of the French auxiliaries in the early summer of 1518 would be of tremendous importance for the conduct of the campaign. Ordnance foundries in Copenhagen and Helsingborg had been hard at work producing heavy artillery pieces, with nicknames such as the Nightingale, the Songstress or the Knife. The foundries were highly commended in the reports of the French ambassador, the Baron de Coulonces. From these efforts a mobile artillery regiment soon arose, staffed by Danish soldiers, but under the command of the renowned French gunners[10].
Preparations were further aided by the fact that Emperor Maximilian had finally issued a strict order to the Hansa, prohibiting them from aiding the king’s enemies in his just cause of chastising the Sture heretics. Christian II’s uncle, Frederick the duke of Holstein, also consented to aid his nephew by dispatching a cavalry contingent under the command of his trusted adviser Johan Rantzau.
The Siege of the City of Alesia by Melchior Feselen, 1533. Feselen’s depiction of Caesar’s victory over the Gauls makes up for its lack of historical realism in its excellent detail of early 16th century warfare. In front, Roman troops cast as Imperial Landsknechts battle the Gaulish forces in the guise of French and Ottoman soldiers. In the background, the city of Alesia is under siege by Imperial artillery with various types of pieces being shown. Christian II’s army would make great use of its own nascent artillery regiments, aided and commanded by French specialists.
By the autumn of 1518, Christian II had amassed a magnificent force of close to 20.000 men, almost evenly split between foreign and native troops. A proposed naval attack on Stockholm was discarded as the death of Gustav Trolle meant that the expediency of a sea-borne rescue had disappeared[11]. Instead, it was agreed that a pincer attack would be attempted at the two strongest positions in southern Sweden - the fortresses of Kalmar and Älvsborg[12]. The navy, under Søren Norby, would meanwhile strike out from its base on Gotland and harrow the coasts of Småland and Öster Götland in order to draw off Swedish troops from the advance of the two Danish field armies.
In the east, Henrik Krummedige, a seasoned military commander with more than 20 years of experience in the field[13], would lead the lion’s share of the army from its staging point at Varberg, where he served as fief-holder, against the border castle of Öresten while Johan Rantzau was to advance north through Halland and strike against the remains of Ävlsborg with his Holsteinian cavalry[14]. Karl Knutsson, recently appointed as fief-holder at Bohus castle, would then cross the Göta älv and join his Norwegian levies to the German horse. From there the two commanders were to seize the town of Nya Lödöse before marching east towards the northern tip of the Viskan river. To the east, a force of some 5000 levies and mercenaries was to advance on Kalmar under the command of Otte Krumpen[15]. After taking the fortress, they were to advance west and supervene with Krummedige’s army. Once joined, the combined host would initiate a direct assault on Jönköping, the chief financial and administrative junction of Sweden south of Lake Vättern.
On the second of november, Krumpen led his army from its encampments at Lykø castle and advanced on Kalmar. Søren Norby struck down south from Visby and made landfall on Öland, where his marines and mercenaries took the strongly fortified, but weakly manned castle of Borgholm in a surprise attack before exposing the hinterland to all the horrors of early modern warfare. From his battlements, the castellan at Kalmar, Johan Monsson of the House of Natt och Dag, could observe the ominous glow of the burning Öland countryside. No doubt remembering the ill fate of the garrison at Stegeholm, he desperately requested reinforcements from Lord Sten, who in turn made vague promises of a swift relief. However, the Danish army met little resistance on its march through south-eastern Småland and as such was able to invest the castle before the end of the month. The peasants in the hundreds surrounding the town and castle greeted the advancing army courteously, and upon hearing the king’s proclamation, a great many of the local aldermen willingly swore to accept Christian II as their king[16]. With the hinterland occupied by enemy forces and with Norby’s fleet anchored in Kalmar Sound, Monsson had little to no choice but to surrender.
The news of the loss of Kalmar and Borgholm reached the Lord Steward at his mustering fields outside Eksjö in central Småland and immediately spread panic throughout the Swedish camp. It seemed as if all of the Kalmar hundreds might go over to Christian II if nothing was done to stop Krumpen’s advance. However, scouts were also reporting troop movements in Väster Götland and the sacking of several border castles. Taking one of his characteristic bold chances, the young Lord Sten rallied his 10.000 man strong army of Dalarna, Öster Götland and Småland levies and made a dash across the frozen Emån river. Making good use of the frost-hardened dirt roads the Sture army descended on Krumpen’s vanguard at the crossing of the Alsterån stream in the early hours of the 9th of December.
Sten Sture the Younger led a charge of his heavy cavalry over the frozen waters, cutting a swathe through the first ranks of Danish levies. However, he was forced back by a counterattack headed by a contingent of pike-wielding German Landsknechts. Seeing the strength deployed against him, Otte Krumpen decided to withdraw from the field and retreat towards Kalmar. Unfortunately, the inexperienced Jutish and Scanian peasants at his flanks broke into a confused rout, mirroring the events at Vädla the year before. The Sture forces were, however, prevented from completely overrunning the Danish army by the Lord Steward’s timid decision to preserve his host. Suffering only minor losses, he had managed to stop any further incursion into Småland and forced Krumpen to withdraw to Kalmar, essentially securing his right flank for his riposte against the main Danish force marching into Väster Götland.
The winter campaign of 1518/1519[17]. Full resolution here.
Wheeling his army around, the Younger Sture set off to counter the second and larger Danish host to the west. With the advantage of campaigning on friendly ground, the Sture troops did not have to safeguard their lines of supply and as such made way at an impressive speed.
Johan Rantzau’s cavalry corps had easily scattered a disorganised militia outside Älvsborg and linked up with Knutsson’s Norwegian infantry, subsequently fortifying the ruined castle. Their combined force of some 2000 men then went on to tax the town of Nya Lödöse. To the south, Henrik Krummedige’s main force crashed across the border from Varberg, sweeping the hastily assembled Västergöta levies off their path. Much like their compatriots in the Kalmar hundreds, the peasants of Väster Götland had been so disheartened by generations of continuous warfare that they offered little resistance to the invading Danes, but few outright heeded Christian II’s proclamation and acknowledged his claim. By the time of the Battle at Alsterån, Krummedige had reached the decrepit castle of Öresten, which fell after a short and uneventful siege. The castellan, Ture Jönsson, seeing the majority of his domains under the occupation of the king’s troops willingly bent the knee, being the first major Väster Göta nobleman to do so.
As the Danish army fanned out with the Viskan and Ätran rivers on either flank, the road towards Jönköping narrowed at the southern tip of Lake Åsunden. In order to circumvent the lake any attacker would have to either take the castlet of Torpa to the north, or the fortress of Opensten to the east, but temperatures had fallen to such a degree that the waters of Åsunden had completely frozen, essentially giving the Danish commander the option of entirely bypassing the two strongholds. Nevertheless, Henrik Krummedige was loath to leave such a threat to his supply lines in his rear and as such camped his host between the two castles, hoping to take one after the other.
Torpa, little more than a fortified manor house, fell after a short bombardment, but as the Danes were about to turn on Opensten, the Swedish army, somewhat fatigued but emboldened by their victory on Alsterån, arrived in force.
Lord Sten’s valiant dash across Småland had already been widely praised in songs and it was widely expected in the Swedish peasant host that the Lord Steward would vanquish his enemies “... from sea to sea.” Having swung around Jönköping to rendezvous with the reformed Väster Göta levies, the Younger Sture commanded a force some 12.000 strong with a considerable cavalry corps, but no artillery[18]. Against him stood Krummedige’s army of an almost equal size, between 10 and 12.000 strong. However, a majority of the Danish army consisted of battle-hardened veterans from the Italian Wars, including the aforementioned French gunnery experts, which more than made up for any numerical disadvantage.
Wood-cutting illustration from Der Weisskönig, ca. 1515 by Hans Burgmair, depicting a Landsknecht battle on a frozen lake. The hard winter of 1518/19 made it possible for both sides to make rapid advances through the otherwise difficult terrain of southern Sweden.
On the crisp winter morning of the 5h of January 1519, the two armies arrayed before each other, the Swedes with their back to the frozen lake, the Danes to the immediate south. Command of the Sture centre was held by the Lord Steward, whilst the right and left flanks were held respectively by Sir Hemming Gadh and Sir Erik Abrahamsson Leijonhufvud[19]. Young Gustav Eriksson Vasa carried the colours of the Lord Steward’s office at the centre around which several other prominent Sture partisans flocked.
Opposing them was Henrik Krummedige, who led the Danish van and centre comprised of a strong corps of Landsknecht infantry, where the rigsbanner, the Dannebrog, was carried by Sir Mogens Gyldenstjerne[20]. Sir Henrik Gøye, the brother of Christian II’s most powerful noble ally, held the left whilst the right was under the of command of Joakim Trolle. The king himself, having made good on his promise to personally participate in the invasion, commanded the reserves and the artillery.
The battle began shortly after sunbreak with a shattering bombardment from the Danish batteries. As the guns fell silent, the Swedish peasantry recoiled from the shock, but the Lord Steward made a passionate ride along the lines, his brilliant Italianate armour shining in the sun, and managed to steady the line[21]. However, Krummedige now gave his infantry the order to advance and with a deafening rolling of the drums, the Landsknechts marched towards the enemy, a second barrage from the artillery covering their attack. As the front row of the German mercenaries discharged their muskets at the Swedes, the Landsknecht pikemen charged with the fearsome roar “... Away peasant! Away! The Lance comes, the Lance comes!” The two centres then became entangled in a gruesome melee, wherein the Swedish front line began to break. As Trolle and Gøye charged with their noble retainers, the Sture levies on either flank likewise began to give way, slowly driving the battle onto the frozen Lake Åsunden.
In the horrifying brawl, Lord Sten was in the thick of fighting, striking down levies and Landsknechts alike from his pale grey destrier. The crossbow bolts were flying low and men were dying left and right, creating a dark stain of blood, guts and excrements on the otherwise virgin winter landscape. For a while the battle fluctuated between the two sides, but it became clear to to the Lord Steward that his men were about to be forced off the field. In a desperate attempt to sow confusion amongst the enemy ranks, Sten Sture set his sight upon the Danish main battle standard. However, Sir Gyldenstjerne was saved in the last minute by the timely arrival of Sir Henrik Gøye’s young squire, Peder Skram[22], who shoved his glaive into the abdomen of Lord Sten’s mount. The Younger Sture was thrown from his horse, but otherwise unharmed as his sworn men rushed to his side, covering him with their shields. However, news of his fall quickly spread throughout the army, which finally tipped the scales in favour of the king’s men. First, Hemming Gadh’s Dalarna troops on the Swedish right routed, leaving the aged commander to be captured by the onrushing Danes. Then, the centre fled with the Lord Steward at its head. Leijonhufvud’s men had managed to keep the Danish noble retainers and men-at-arms opposing them at bay, but his corps was dangerously close to being encircled as the centre and right broke. He managed, however, to withdraw with a good portion of his men in some semblance of order, owing in no small part to the fact that the king, seeing the day being his, ordered Joakim Trolle to refrain from pursuing the retreating Swedes[23].
The Battle of Åsunden, had finally come to a close after only a few short hours worth of brutal fighting. It is difficult to ascertain a convincing casualty figure, but the fighting strength of the Sture host was halved, indicating a loss of between 5-6000 men, the vast majority of which being peasants deserting the defeated army. Conversely, Danish losses are easier to calculate: 800 Landsknechts and a compatible number of levies fell. It was, however, a great victory, but not a decisive one. It was a start, but the Lord Steward remained alive and the power of the Swedish realm north of the great lakes had yet to be extinguished.
Footnotes:
[1]This is OTL and a rather bizarre event, IMHO.
[2]Also OTL.
[3]Slagheck played a prominent role in OTL where he rose to high office after his betrayal of Arcimboldi. This was a result of his close alliance with Sigbrit Willoms, who in TTL doesn’t appear at Christian II’s court. In our time, Slagheck played a prominent role in orchestrating the Stockholm Bloodbath and was a part of the troika governing Sweden after Christian II left the country after his 1520 conquest. By his misrule he was partly to blame for the success of Gustav Vasa’s uprising.
[4]Sten Sture the Younger
[5]To put under the ban, as in anathematize/excommunicate
[6]This is the OTL bull of excommunication. The only addition I’ve made is the “...miurdet/murdered” part.
[7]This happened in OTL as well. The pilgrimage to the tomb of St. Olav was one of the most popular in Scandinavia during the late middle ages.
[8]This is a combination of two different letters penned by Christian II at various times of his life. The first part, which I marked as [*] is from his OTL declaration to the Swedish people before his first invasion, dated 2nd of July 1517. The only alteration I’ve added is the “...miurdet/murdered” part. The second part, marked as [**], is from a proclamation to the Swedish noble and ecclesiastical opposition which the king authored in exile in Antwerp on the 21st of September 1530. By mixing the two sources I hope to convey the changes in Christian II in this timeline. He’s still a machiavellian prince, but he’s not so ruthless and rash as in our time.
[9]Like in OTL.
[10]As in OTL.
[11]In OTL, Christian II attempted a second naval-borne assault on Stockholm by which he aimed to rescue Trolle. Although the battle was far less one sided than the Battle of Vädla, it was a very costly affair, which only served to further depress the state finances and upset both nobility and peasantry as taxes soared to cover the deficit.
[12]This was a standard Danish strategy, attempted during the Northern Seven Years War and the Kalmar War.
[13]In OTL, during Christian II’s 1520 invasion of Sweden, Henrik Krummedige had fallen into the king’s disgrace on account of not sufficiently protecting the Halland peasants from Swedish raids. As such he was passed over for command. This was as much an example of Christian’s distaste for the higher nobility as an indication on his subjects’ behalf. ITTL, he’s far more agreeable to the members of the higher aristocracy and considering that it was Krummedige who executed Knut Alvsson (see the prologue) on Christian II’s orders, it would be very surprising if he were not one of the king’s most trusted military commanders.
[14]Ävlsborg had been ruined during the war between king Hans and Svante Nilsson and not fully repaired by the events currently unfolding.
[15]Otte Krumpen was the one who led the 1520 campaign in lieu of Krummedige’s absence where he completely shattered the Sture forces at Bogesund. ITTL, he’s delegated to a supportive role.
[16]First part is true, second part is ATL based on Christian II’s more conciliatory proclamation and the murder of Trolle. In OTL, Monsson (not sure if it’s the correct Swedish rendering, the Sture Chronicle puts his name as Ioghen Monsson) was genuinely afraid the peasants would go over to Christian II.
[17]I’m very proud of this map. It’s not entirely correct as there were bound to be some changes in the structure of the Danish fiefs between 1513 (which I’ve used here) and 1518, but researching plausible alternate fief distributions seemed such a massive task that I just went ahead with the information I’ve already done. Similarly, the Norwegian hundreds and fiefs are based on the situation in 1570 as that was the closest source I could find. Furthermore, I couldn’t find any source for the Swedish hundreds which is why they’re not shown.
[18]I’ve found no sources which indicate that the Swedish armies at either the battles of Bogesund or Uppsala included field artillery.
[19]In OTL, Leijonhufvud held an independent command, but given the changes ITTL, the Younger Sture prefers to keep him close.
[20]As he did in OTL throughout Christian II’s campaigns in Sweden. Rigsbanner (Reichsbanner in German) roughly translates as Banner of the Realm, i.e. the main battle standard.
[21]In OTL’s Battle of Bogesund, the Lord Steward was struck by a cannonball early in the battle, which caused the Swedish army to rout. I think it’d be too much of a wank to have this happen all over again. Especially since it was a chance stray that crushed the Younger Sture’s leg.
[22]Whom he also saved in OTL’s Battle of Uppsala.
[23]Christian II was no rookie battlefield commander, but he made some dubious choices in OTL. At the Battle of Brännkyrka he could’ve carried the day, but his timid decision to not pursue the withdrawing Swedes turned the tide.
Hafver du frihet fått i hand, Lyck väl till och bind om band,
Att ej hon dig förlåter;
Hon liknar falken, stolt och snar;
Om en gång bort han flugit har, Du får honom icke åter
Have you freedom once received,
Hold unto him tight,
So he shall not leave you;
He is like the falcon, proud and fast;
Has he once but flown,
You shall not have him back
Engelbrektsvisan,
-
Thomas Simonsson bishop of Strängnäs, ca. 1439
“Who are these madmen, who fraternize one day and kill each other the next?”
- Steffen Webersted, 1519[1]
The victory at Åsunden left the Väster Götland plains open for the royal army’s renewed onslaught. After a short break and drunken celebration on the frozen banks of the lake, the troops struck their tents and marched in pursuit of the retreating Swedes. By late January, the army had occupied the cities of Bogesund and Falköping as well as the great ecclesiastical see of Skara without causing too much destruction to the subdued countryside[2]. This effectively derived the Lord Steward completely of any access to to the west. The “Lightning Bolt of the Realm” as Johan Rantzau had become known, subsequently led his cavalry from their staging point at the tip of the Viskan and cut a swathe through western Småland before taking Jönköping after a quick skirmish. Wherever the king’s men went, they nailed copies of his manifesto and the bull of excommunication to every church and town hall door, but the further inland they advanced the more hostile their reception became.
At a drumhead war council outside Skara, Krummedige and his lieutenants persuaded the king to abandon the Kalmar advance and instead commit his full attention to strike north through the great forests of Tiveden. The castle of Axevalla had once been one of the mightiest in the north, but after the Väster Göta peasants took it by storm in 1469, the fortress had gradually sunk into a decrepit state. As such, it posed no obstacle for the advance of the royal army.
The Lord Steward had fallen back and rallied what few survivors he could from the carnage on Åsunden and withdrawn beyond Tiveden, hoping the local militias would delay his advancing enemies long enough for reinforcements to arrive. The heavily forested area had previously served the Swedes well in defending their country from foreign invaders as it provided excellent ambush country where the stout locals excelled in pinning down entire regiments between cut down trees.
However, Karl Knutsson and several other of the king’s noble commanders were well versed in campaigning in the thick Scandinavian forests, and as such the army was alert to the dangers of ambush as it advanced North[3]. Furthermore, Ture Jönsson and an array of minor Väst Göta knights had bent the knee and acclaimed Christian’s claim to the Swedish throne, providing the royal host with excellent opportunity to recruit local guides.
While the Lord Regent set up his headquarters at Örebro in preparation for the Danish onslaught, the inhabitants of Tiveden had been hard at work preparing ambush sites where trees could quickly be felled to hem in the enemy. With the French infantry in the van, under the command of a certain Jacques Valles[4], the royal army crashed into the forest, facing fierce resistance. In a series of extremely bloody skirmishes, the defenders were gradually pushed back, before the king’s dismounted noble retainers and crack German Landsknechts circumvented the Swedish position, taking them in the rear. By the 22nd of January, the royal army had forced the Tiveden and descended upon the expansive plains of central Sweden.
It was an impressive feat: Christian I, the first of the Oldenburg kings, had lost an entire army in his attempt at braving the forest between the Great Lakes. As a contemporary ballad put it:
“De Svenske de fiyede, hvor de kunde, for Kongen af Dannemarks Vold,
havde vi Tiveden paa vor Ryg, han var os fuldgod en Skjold.”
“The Swedes fled wherever they could in the face of the king of Denmark’s might
We had Tiveden upon our backs, it shielded us full well and right.”
In Örebro, the Lord Regent was deeply shaken by the swiftness of the Danish advance. His only consolation was the fact that the commoners and peasants of Närke and the other central provinces hadn’t witnessed a foreign invasion for several generations, which made them far less apathetic than their compatriots in Väster Götland. The king’s enraged mercenary vanguard spilled into the countryside, harrowing it mercilessly as revenge for the heavy casualties they had sustained during the campaign through Tiveden. Before the royal captains could bring them to heel, several hundreds had been virtually razed to the ground, ensuring that peasant resistance to Krummedige’s army would remain extremely potent. It was widely reported in the contemporary chronicles that treason had been involved in the Swedish defeat at Tiveden. How else, the Sture propagandists asked, could the graveyard of Christian I’s ambitions have been so easily passed by his grandson?
Ture Jönsson’s defection[5] might not have come as a great surprise to neither the Lord Steward at Örebro nor to his administration in Stockholm headed by his wife, Kristina Gyllenstierna, but the news that Sir Hemmingh Gadh had thrown his lot in with the king shocked Christian II’s foes deeply[6]. Having been captured after the Battle on Åsunden, Gadh had been presented to the king, who greeted him warmly, which puzzled the royal mercenary captains greatly. His defection was spectacular, as Sir Gadh represented one of the most hardline anti-union wings in the Swedish aristocracy. Consequently, the reasons for the old prelate’s change of heart have been discerned over and over by scholars of the period, but the most widely accepted notion is that a combination of Christian II’s military might, the king’s personal charm and the offer of the vacant Uppsala archiepiscopal see all played a role.
The campaign of january/february 1519. Tiveden is located on the small strip of land at the north point between the lakes Vänern and Vättern. Full resolution here.
In the south, a force of Småland levies and noble retainers marched towards Kalmar from Kronoberg, forcing Krumpen to ensconce himself inside the city’s fortress. However, the Swedish host lacked the siege equipment to successfully invest the castle, which under any circumstances could easily rely on the Danish navy for reinforcements and supplies. Furthermore, the naval superiority of the royal fleet ensured that the island of Öland fully came under union control. With the island completely subjugated, Søren Norby struck out once more from his base of operations on Visby, raiding the Åland coasts. A second expedition at the end of january 1519 saw the town of Söderkoping occupied by a small Danish force, threatening the episcopal city of Linköping, where the cunning bishop, Hans Brask, had taken refuge after the Riksdag debacle two years earlier.
News of the swift Danish advance on the western side of the Vättern combined with the landings of enemy troops on the Östergötland shore served to further incite an all-consuming fear of treason within the Sture government. Temporal members of the council of the realm who had not unequivocally declared for the Lord Steward were sought out at their castlets, arrested and brought to Stockholm in chains. Two such councilors, Steen Kristiernsson Oxenstierna and Knut Nilsson Sparre, were captured, but the latter made a daring escape[7] during his transportation to the capital, taking refuge with Brask in Linköping where other malcontents with the Lord Steward’s regime, such as councilor Peder Turesson Bielke, also had convened. Kristiernsson was not so lucky. Having been paroled after his capture at Nyköping three years earlier, he was immediately arrayed before a Sture jury which swiftly sentenced him to death. Before Lord Sten could intercede, Oxenstierna had been decapitated on the Great Square of Stockholm to the great pleasure of the city’s inhabitants. For a time, it appeared as if the former archbishop of Uppsala, Jakob Ulvsson and Gustav Trolle’s father, Erik, would be sent to the headsman as well, but cooler minds prevailed in Stockholm, sparing the two most senior leaders of the Peace Party for the time being.
As january came to a close, it became clearer and clearer that the Sture war effort was descending into utter confusion with Örebro focused on halting the advance of Christian II’s army whilst the capital had become engulfed in a hysteric hunt for any remaining pro-Union members of the aristocracy. Lord Sten had managed to raise another sizeable host composed of Åsunden survivors under Leijonhufvud and fresh levies from Närke and Uppland and, deciding to not let the destruction of the Närke countryside continue, advanced south from Örebro, keeping lake Hjälmaren on his left with an army some 9000 strong. Krummedige for his part was eager to finish off the intransigent Swedes and marched his battle-hardened force across the frozen lake Tisaren.
To the Lord Steward, it was a now or never moment. If the Danes and their mercenaries were not halted, the heart of the realm, the cities around lake Mälaren and the Stockholm archipelago, would be thrown to the wolves. Consequently, on the third of February 1519, the two armies met on a featureless winter plain immediately to the south of Örebro. The Lord Steward compensated for the state of his troops’ precarious morale and lack of experience by erecting a series of battlefield defences far more elaborate than the makeshift palisades which he had employed at Åsunden. Great fires had softened the frost hardened earth and allowed trenches and stockades to be erected, granting, in effect, the Sture host an impressive defensive advantage. Henrik Krummedige, however, was confident that his veterans and professional soldiers would sweep aside the enemy’s “... pathetic wooden wall.” and crush Sten Sture once and for all.
Landsknechten by Nicolaas Hogenberg, ca. 1530. As the early months of 1519 passed, Christian II’s powerful mercenary force was poised to break the resistance of the Sture party once and for all.
As had been the case at Åsunden, the battle began with a concerted barrage from the Danish batteries. The Swedes ducking for cover in their trenches, fragments of wood and shrapnel splintering around them. However, unlike at Åsunden, the bombardment did not shatter the cohesion of the Swedish host, entrenched as it was behind its strong fortifications. Undeterred, Krummedige gave the order for his trusted mercenaries to advance. With pipes and drums blaring, banners streaming, the German companies marched towards the foe, their battle cries echoing over the snow-covered field.
In the moment the Landsknecht regiments were about to engage, a second intense barrage from the Danish artillery made a final attempt to drive the defenders from their position, but to no avail. Scaling the Swedish stockades proved dangerous work for the royal forces and a furious melee soon erupted along the entire front line; the commoner and peasant soldiers of the Sture host once again proving what a formidable fighting force they could muster. Seeing the impeding stalemate, the king ordered Krummedige to commit his reserves to another assault on the Swedish centre, whilst Karl Knutsson’s Norwegian levies mounted a spirited attack on the enemy right flank. As Sir Henrik Gøye led the second wave of French infantry companies and Danish men-at-arms into the breach, it seemed, for a moment, as if the Sture troops would break. Once again, however, Sten Sture charged into the brawl, his retinue of young knights and sworn shields bolstering the morale of the fatigued attackers. Further bad news arrived when Erik Leijonhufvud successfully repelled an attempt by the Danish cavalry under Joakim Trolle to break through the Swedish left, sending them routing back towards the artillery. Time and time again the defenders threw back the furious onslaught in the centre until Sir Mogens Gyldenstjerne managed to hoist the royal standard over one of the stockades. All the Lord Steward’s attention was thus drawn to this manifest example of the foreign invasion.
As Sten Sture committed his men to a final push against the attackers, the fighting reached a murderous crescendo with a multitude of noblemen and knights perishing on both sides. When Sir Gyldenstjerne was forced off the stockade the royal army was on its last legs, its resolve balancing on a knife’s edge. In that moment, Henrik Gøye and his squire, Skram, broke through the Lord Steward’s perimeter with a motley force of French and German mercenaries, in a charge which the Sture chronicle summarized as the moment when,: “... Fortune thus abandoned me”[8] In the brutal hand to hand combat, the Lord Steward’s personal standard bearer, the young Gustav Eriksson Vasa, was mortally wounded[9] and as the Sture banner fell on the gory ground a tremor of panic and confusion erupted in the exhausted Swedish ranks as rumours spread that it was Lord Sten himself who had perished.
Although the Lord Steward managed to steady his men in the centre, the right wing of his force routed thoroughly and conclusively, with Knutsson’s Norwegian troops in sharp pursuit. Fearing that he might be overrun by the enemy advancing on his exposed flank, Sten Sture resolved to withdraw a short distance towards Örebro in order to regroup, but this was disastrously misinterpreted by Leijonhufvud on the left as a sign of the complete disintegration of the Swedish main force. With the right wing and centre routing, Leijonhufvud decided to leave the field with his remaining troops, retreating towards the Östergötland border. Lord Sten’s situation deteriorated even further when the short respite in the melee gave the royal artillery ample opportunity to loosen its guns once more, tearing deep and bloody furrows in the ranks of the surviving defenders. With the prospect of being utterly overrun by the reformed Danish cavalry, the Lord Steward grudgingly decided to retreat towards the castle of Göksholm, leaving the field to the deeply fatigued union army.
The battle outside Örebro was a colossal blow to the Lord Steward’s cause. For the third time, the anti-Union forces had suffered a crushing defeat in the field, which meant that for the first time in generations, an enemy army was poised to invade the very centre of the Swedish realm. As is often the case when tallying the casualties of early modern/late medieval battles, it is difficult to completely ascertain how great the carnage had truly been. Modern estimates put the number of dead at a total of some 5000, the vast majority of these losses being suffered by the Swedish. In the words of a contemporary ballad from Jutland it was widely reported that:
I Sueriige stod aldriig sliigt ett slaug,
ther nogen mand kand tencke:
thii er ther saa mongent faaderløss barn,
så mongen fattig encke
In Sweden such a battle had never before been fought
So far as any man can tell:
For there are now so many a fatherless child
So many poor a widow
Nevertheless, Lord Sten showed dogged grit and determination in his continued refusal to seek any form of compromise; his feud with king Christian had reached such hateful depths that peace, he declared, would only be , “... found at Stockholm or in the grave.” Instead he withdrew towards the capital, sending messengers ahead to warn of an impending siege as well as ordering his wife to send blockade runners into the Baltic carrying diplomats, whose task it would be to rally the cities of Danzig and Lübeck to the anti-Danish cause.
Furthermore, the Lord Steward tried in vain to get curriers through the Union lines to reach Leijonhufvud’s division in Öster Götland, carrying orders for him to bring as many men as possible across the Mälaren before the king’s men could invest the city. Unfortunately, none of the Sture messengers made it past the royal sentries and when Sir Erik did receive an envoy, he brought news from Linköping and not the capital; a development which would have major consequences for the Sture war effort.
To Christian II, however, the battle had been a crowning moment of the campaign: definite proof that God himself sanctioned his crusade against the Sture heretical rebels. No fewer than 40 men were consequently knighted by the king himself on the bloodied winter field, foremost amongst them, Sir Henrik Gøye’s squire- the 16 year old Peder Skram.
“The first gate of Stockholm has been breached...” the king was rumoured to have proclaimed to his men after the ceremony, continuing; “... and soon we shall knock down its last.”[10]
Footnotes:
[1]The quote is actually from one of the German mercenary captains during the French Wars of Religion, specifically from a short period of truce before the Battle of Dreux on the 19th of December 1562. Webersted was an actual Landsknecht commander who served in Christian II’s OTL Swedish campaign.
[2]In OTL, the dire financial situation of Christian II meant that his mercenary troops wantonly harrowed the Swedish countryside in lieu of not being paid, in direct contradiction of his articles of war. Here, the king’s coffers are in a much better shape, given Isabella’s dowry and the avoidance of a second disastrous campaign.
[3]First part is OTL.
[4]This was also the case in the OTL Tiveden campaign, where the aforementioned Frenchman won much praise for his role in the battle.
[5]In our time, he kowtowed to the Stures, then joined Christian II only to abandon the king once the Vasa uprising gained traction. Then he rebelled against Gustav Vasa to end his life in exile in Denmark.
[6]A curious event of OTL, where Hemmingh Gadh switched sides after he was kidnapped during Christian II’s second Swedish campaign.
[7]Both were members of the Peace Party, the latter dying in the service of Christian II against Gustav Vasa in OTL.
[8]The quote is taken from the actual Sture Chronicle and describes the moment in OTL’s Battle of Bogesund where the Lord Steward is hit by a ricocheting cannon ball.
[9]I spent quite some time brooding over what to do with Gustav Vasa. In the end, I decided to kill him off to throw events even further off the rails. Given his extensive battlefield presence in OTL, I do not think his death is too much of a stress, but let me know you thoughts.
[10]This is actually a slightly altered quote attributed to the king by a Lübeck envoy after Christian II’s OTL conquest of Stockholm. In our timeline, it was, however, the first gate of Lübeck which had been broken - no doubt a way to agitate for Lübeck’s entry into an anti-Danish coalition. I doubt the validity of the quote, but it’s nicely melodramatic, IMHO.
“The liberty of this realm depends entirely on the church and the equestrian nobility.”
-
Hans Brask, bishop of Linköping
“In war there is nothing as likely to succeed as what the enemy believes you cannot attempt.”
-
Niccolò Machiavelli, 1519
On the 10th of February, Christian II led his army towards the Lord Steward’s former headquarters at Örebro which opened its gates for the king. Having established absolute control over the area south of Lake Mälaren, the royal host continued its advance north, aiming to strike at Stockholm by way of Uppland. From Arboga a detachment under Karl Knutsson struck east in order to subjugate the episcopal see of Strängnäs. The city's bishop, Matthias Gregersson Lillie, remained, much against his will, in the capital. However, his deacon, Lars Andersson, opened the gates and bent the knee in his master's place.
The larger part of the union army advanced across the Mälaren and, on the 21st of February, arrived at Västerås, a an episcopal see of some pro-union sentiment. The bishop, Otto Svinhufvud[1], immediately went into the king’s service. Svinhufvud's town house became the seat of an interim royal court, wherefrom Christian II could plot out the course of his next move: the siege of Stockholm.
For his part, Sten Sture had arrived safely in the capital with a few loyal survivors. He found the city in a state of restless panic. Passing the impaled head of Steen Kristersson on his way to the castle, the Lord Steward was supposedly heard to quip darkly “... it is well that my good wife has left ample space on the parapets.” Undoubtedly, the Younger Sture had lost a great deal of audacity on the fields of Åsunden and Örebro.
Not everything, however, was yet lost. A forceful and concerted effort had been made by Kristina Gyllenstierna and her advisers to raise another host of Uppland commoners and peasants, which was set to gather outside Uppsala. Although smaller in size than the previous two armies commanded by Sten Sture, the Uppland levies made up for their lack of numbers in their fierce hatred of the late archbishop Trolle[2]. If the Uppland army could delay or repulse the Danish advance for long enough, the capital would be given a much needed reprieve to gather provisions and await the return of the Sture envoys from their mission to the Danzig and the Wendish Hansa.
Furthermore, the Lord Steward still held several prominent hostages; Jakob Örnfot and Erik Trolle[3] both remained safely behind bars in a well guarded tower in Stockholm castle. In the rest of the country, other resources also availed themselves to the Sture cause. The miners and freemen of Dalarna still supported Lord Sten fervently, although their fighting strength had been greatly diminished af the Tiveden campaign. In Småland, a Swedish force under councilor of the realm Axel Nilsson Posse, remained in the field, hemming in Otte Krumpen’s division in Kalmar, whilst Erik Abrahamsson Leijonhufvud commanded a fairly impressive host of Västmanland and Närke levies, situated in the Öster Götland border regions.
The Massacre of the Innocents by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, 1566-67. Originally the painting depicted the biblical event alluded to by its title, but the grizzly images of impaled infants were covered in the late 16th century with details of foodstuff and cloth; thus transforming the scene into a tale of a hostile army plundering enemy territory. Even though much of the Swedish countryside escaped the wrath of Christian II’s furious mercenary army, it is well-documented that many villages experienced horrors such as those depicted by Bruegel.
Unfortunately for the Stures, their once iron grasp on the mantle of authority had been irrevocably damaged by repeated military defeats. In Linköping, Hans Brask, in effect the most senior representative of the Swedish catholic church, had begun to move. A staunch believer in the old order and the high aristocracy’s preeminence in the governance of the realm, Brask had always been wary of the Lord Steward’s ambition to break the independence of the church. Whilst he had been coerced into passive resistance at the deposition of Gustav Trolle, the archbishop’s murder had finally pushed him into determined opposition. The victorious advance of the Danish king confirmed Brask’s premonition that Christian II soon would come into his third kingdom.
Following the Battle at Örebro, the Linköping bishop had sent councilor Knut Nilsson Sparre north to intercede with Leijonhufvud and hopefully swing him back into the Unionist camp. Leijonhufvud had no great love for the Lord Steward nor his politics[4], but his force consisted of many Närke volunteers who “... would not hear of peace in any way, and would rather kill him and everyone else.”[5]
Nevertheless, Sparre presented his case to the commander, arguing that nothing could be done against the power which had entered into the heart of the realm and that the crimes of the Lord Steward now counted executing members of both the secular and spiritual nobility. Furthermore, he added, Christian II was the legitimately chosen king, as the Peace of Mamø had stipulated. After some consideration, Leijonhufvud agreed that the best course of action would be to seek terms with the king and bring about an end to hostilities, a decision most likely made easier by the fact that his own personal estates in Västmanland would soon fall in royal hands[6]. Upon hearing the news, the peasant companies became enraged[7] and it took the considerable influence and gravitas of Leijonhufvud (the only undefeated Swedish general of the war) to avoid bloodshed between his own soldiers and the Närke troops.
In the end, half of Leijonhufvud’s army, corresponding roughly to the peasant companies not from Västmanland, broke off from the host, elected their own captains and began to march north in order to reinforce the defence of Stockholm. With his force thus diminished, but fully secure in his command, Erik Leijonhufvud returned with Knut Sparre to Linköping in order to rendezvous with Hans Brask.
However, the Peace Party’s apparent intention to not involve itself in the last gasps of the fighting was soon jeopardised by further Danish successes to their immediate south.
Unaware of Posse’s advance in Småland, Rantzau’s Holstenian cavalry corps had left Jönkiping at the end of January, hoping to link up with the main royal force on the eastern side of Tiveden. Easily bypassing the mothballed fortress of Rumlaborg, the ducal commander led his men north along the shore of Lake Vättern, making good progress through the western hundreds of Öster Götland, before breaking into the plains south of lake Hjälmaren. At an intermediary campsite north of Linköping, Rantzau received news of Søren Norby’s landing at Söderköping. Deciding to swing east to reinforce the tentative Danish control of the seaboard, the royal cavalry hurried through the Linköping hinterland, avoiding any confrontation with the local peasantry.
When Hans Brask learned of the presence of enemy forces so close to his city gates, he was immediately forced to reevaluate his position. He had originally hoped to declare his allegiance to the king only when Stockholm had been completely surrounded; a course of action which would have made him the perfect intermediary in negotiating the surrender of the capital and thus placed him squarely in Christian II’s inner circle. Rantzau for his part hurried past Linköping and linked arms with Norby’s 2000 men at Söderköping, a force he had augmented by bringing over the majority of his garrison from Gotland. This combined force then struck out towards Linköping, hoping to take the city. As the royal army deployed outside the city walls, the unionist triumvirate of Leijonhufvud, Brask and Sparre quickly came to the conclusion that bending the knee would be the only way for them to keep their positions in the post-Sture political landscape. Consequently, the three councilors of the realm met Norby under a flag of truce and agreed to join their troops to those of the Danes. With a single stroke, almost all of Östergötland[8] had come over to Christian II’s cause, opening a new front south of the Swedish capital. Thus, around the time the king established himself in Västerås, Norby was able to lead a combined host of some 4000 men into Södermanland, tightening the noose around the Lord Steward’s neck.
Sweden and Denmark, showingthe royal/unionist advance into the heart of the Swedish realm, February to May 1519.
From Västmanland, Krummedige led the main royal force into Uppland and on the 5th of March, intercepted the last remaining Sture field army outside Uppsala. The Swedish levies and peasant troops had amassed a force totalling approximately 6000 men, but Lord Sten had not arrived in person to take command. Consequently, once the Danish army arrayed itself for battle, great confusion took charge of the Swedish host. Some noble commanders declared that they would not fight for a murderer and heretic, who would not even show up to fight, whilst others urged their compatriots to withdraw back towards the capital. After a day of waiting, Krummedige gave the signal to attack and the disorganized Sture troops melted away at the first charge. Some were slain by the pursuing cavalry, but the majority scattered back to their villages[9]. The Lord Steward’s military opposition to Christian II’s invasion ended, not with a bang, but with a whimper.
By the 9th of March, the royal army had arrived at the northern gates of Stockholm. A few days later, Søren Norby and his combined force of Holstenian cavalry, Danish infantry and pro-unionist Swedish retainers began to construct siege lines on the southern banks of lake Mälaren. With the royal fleet looming in the waters of the Stockholm archipelago, the capital had been completely surrounded by hostile forces.
On the Brunkeberg, the site of his grandfather’s ignominious defeat half a century before, Christian II planted his royal standard and, with his commanders and Otto Svinhufvud and Hemmingh Gadh at his side, began to receive the acclaim of his new loyal subjects. The unionist commanders, Erik Leijonhufvud, Knut Sparre and Hans Brask were joined by the secular councillors Steen Turesson Bielke, Holger Karlsson Gera (whose wife was the cousin of Gustav Trolle), Johan Arendsson Ulv and Bengt Gylte; in effect bringing a majority of the Swedish council of the realm into the folds of the Peace Party[10].
The king greeted his “... most loyal and dearly beloved council” in his scarlet pavilion, the heavy pieces of the artillery batteries arrayed in front, gun barrels pointing threateningly towards the Stockholm walls. As the de facto head of the Swedish council of the realm, Hans Brask led the delegation, almost prostrating himself in his praise of the lawful king’s return. He availed himself of any guilt in the 1517 court, which had condemned the murdered archbishop, and proclaimed himself a true and leal servant of the crown. For his part, Christian II proved himself a gracious lord in that he willingly took the lords assembled into his service, even granting Leijonhufvud command of the southern camp, but of the council’s fervent desire for him to sign an accession charter before Stockholm had been taken, was out of the question. However, he reaffirmed his royal proclamation and even went so far as to promise a general amnesty; the Lord Steward, being a notable exception given his attainder as “... an evident heretic.”
In Stockholm, the mood in the city had reached rock bottom. Even though the Lord Steward was still well loved by the commoners and burghers, the destruction of the Uppland army had made it clear to the capital’s inhabitants that the defence of Sweden’s liberty now rested on the strength of their ill-equipped arms alone. Axel Nilsson Posse’s men in Småland were too far away and too few in numbers to realistically succeed in relieving the city and the stout men of Värmland and Dalarna lacked proper leadership. Likewise, no help could be expected from Finland. Even though every single fief holder on the other side of the Sea of Åland had kept faith with the Stures, neither they nor Lord Sten possessed the capacity to ferry reinforcements across the Baltic; let alone challenge the might of the royal fleet.
In a desperate attempt to rally foreign support for the war effort, the Lord Steward resolved to send his oldest son, Nils Stensson abroad under the protection of his trusted chancellor, the deacon of Västerås, Peder Jakobsson. Besides the Sture heir, Jakobsson carried letters for king Sigismund of Poland, urging him to march against Christian II and defeat this rising threat to the Polish kingdom. If he did so, the message proclaimed, the anti-unionist faction would gladly accept him as their king[11]. Slipping past the royal fleet in the midst of moonless March night, the small Sture embassy arrived in Danzig at the end of the month, being well received by the city’s Hansa mayors. Although their efforts would be for naught, as Sigismund had his hands full in dealing with the Russians and the German Order and as such did not wish to challenge Christian II in support of a heretic rebel, the scheme did succeed in bringing the Lord Steward’s heir far away from the dangers of besieged Stockholm.
The siege of Stockholm 1519.
As March came to an end, the fighting in the field waned and both sides consequently became involved in a war of letters; the besieged attempting to raise the occupied hundreds against the Danes, whilst the besiegers tried to win over those hundreds which still resisted the king’s authority. In this regard, the conversion of Sir Hemmingh Gadh to the unionist cause proved an invaluable asset for Christian II. Well known for his vitriolic hatred for the Oldenburg three state union, Gadh was a seasoned peasant leader, who knew well how to address the desires of the commoners. By his efforts, the peasantry of the southern part of Närke as well as in the majority of Västmanland and Söndermanland accepted the king as their own, a process greatly aided by the presence of royal garrisons in the important castles of the region[12]. Enraged at this betrayal, the Lord Steward’s chancery unleashed a bombardment of pamphlets denouncing Gadh as a traitor to the realm, although a good part of these flyers were intercepted at the royal lines. Having already been stripped of his fief at Kastelholm on Åland when he was captured at Åsunden, the venerable Sir Hemmingh meekly replied in a letter to Stockholm’s burghers that: “... I believe that it is on account of Kastelholm, which I had restored and rebuilt in full, and where I kept everything I owned in the world besides what few poor assets I had in Stockholm, as well as the 50.000 Mark which I loaned to Sir Sten, before I took the field, that I am now called a traitor.”[13]
Meanwhile, the Lord Steward readied his defences. Bolts and arrows were fletched around the clock, a mill produced gunpowder for the heavy guns on the city walls and in the yard of Stockholm castle, the few remaining seasoned Sture troops attempted to drill the citizens into a coherent fighting force. The royal forces were augmented by the arrival of reinforcements from Denmark, including further Landsknecht companies and newly forged siege artillery from the Copenhagen workshops. More importantly, 6 Dutch warships dropped anchor off the Stockholm skerries, carrying Imperial legates from the Burgundian court and a number of skilled engineers[14]. The Emperor, Maximilian I, had died on the 19th of January and his grandson Charles, the king’s brother-in-law, was poised to succeed him. No doubt, Margaret of Austria had determined that a show of goodwill towards the “barbarian king” might strengthen her nephew’s position with the electors and bring extra prestige to her family.
Stockholm, however, was a formidable fortress. No less than six times in twenty years, had the city come under siege, most often by Oldenburg forces, but Sture arms had bombarded the capital’s walls as well. Guarded by two islets to the north and south covered in strong walls and towers, the city could only be assailed by land across these choke points; and if an attacker were to scale the outer walls, the great castle could hold its own, even after the town itself had been taken. Attempts at convincing the city to surrender met little success. A delegation from the Unionist party was driven away from the drawbridge at Norrstöm by crossbow bolts loosened on the command of Måns Gren, one of two secular councilors still clinging on to the Sture cause. With no negotiated end to the siege in sight and the costs of maintaining it continuously expanding, the king at last decided to commit his forces to an attack[15].
On the 24th of April, the royal flagship Maria unleashed a merciless barrage against the main towers on Helgeandsholmen. Soon thereafter, the king’s batteries on the Brunkeberg joined in; covering the island in fire, smoke and dust. The Sture artillery on Riddarholmen responded in kind, but their fire was but a sting compared to the utter havoc, which the Danish pieces wrought on the northern guard towers and main gate. As the Landsknecht companies formed up, ladders and grappling-hooks in hand, the remaining ships of the fleet delivered another volley, smashing the parapets to rubble. At the same time, the Angel, a 100-gun caravel, led a second squadron south around Skippsholmen, unleashing its cannons on the Sönderström walls. As the smoke cleared, Knut Sparre took charge of the first wave of attackers, taking hundreds of casualties as his men scaled the walls. After a few hours of combat the first line of defence was succumbed and the southern division spilled into the open area before the capital’s southern approaches. However, the narrow passage leading on to the city’s walls proved a veritable killing field, as crossbowmen, archers and cannoneers unleashed a murderous cross-fire from the parapets. After an hour of attempting an assault, Leijonhufvud ordered the attackers to withdraw under covering fire from the royal fleet.
The Assault on Stockholm, as depicted by a chronicler around 1599[16]. Vital in Christian II’s plans were the employment of both field and naval artillery. The massive caravels in effect became floating gun platforms, smothering the walls of the last Sture stronghold with barrage after barrage.
At the northern perimeter, the king’s field artillery managed to reduce the main gate-house to little more than smoldering debris, but scaling the moat proved a difficult task. Only when Søren Norby ordered that a portion of the navy’s guns be deployed on the Käpplingen island, did the besiegers receive sufficient cover to scale the walls of Helgeandsholmen. The Lord Steward himself, sporting his Italianate armour, commanded the defence. If the islet fell so would the rest of the city, leaving the castle open for further assault.
The mercenary companies scaling the walls were mercilessly perforated by the defenders; rocks and jars of burning pitch and filth raining down on them alongside bolts and arrows. However, in the end, a troop of French infantry managed to secure what remained of the gatehouse, their commander, the aforementioned Jacques Valles, losing his life in the process to a Sture bolt. Soon a breach had been established, allowing the transfer of reinforcements into the bridgehead, but Sten Sture led a company of his most fervent knights into the brawl, casting the advancing enemy back. The Swedish respite, unfortunately, was short-lived. To the south, Leijonhufvud resumed his assault, landing marines and troops with siege-ladders by way of Norby’s second squadron. Exhausted and confused by the intense fighting and the unrelenting royal bombardment, this second onslaught threatened to unravel the city’s southern defences, but in a marvelous riposte, the Lord Steward managed to shift a portion of his garrison at Helgeandsholmen towards the Söderström bridge in a moment of quiet on the northern front.
As the tide of cursing, bloodthirsty Landsknechts receded, Lord Sten surveyed the field before him. Smoke was gushing over the city, fires quietly burning in crumbling towers and the low rumble of cannon fire rolling over the sky as a hint of an approaching thunderstorm. From atop the Brunkeberg, it is equally possible that Christian II, overseeing the assault from his batteries, would have unknowingly met the gaze of his greatest enemy somewhere over the frothing waters of lake Mälaren.
In an all or nothing attempt to finally force the walls of Helgeandsholmen, Christian II descended the Brunkeberg, gathered his commanders around him and in a passionate speech moved his troops into a last charge. Once again, the royal artillery unleashed pandemonium upon the battered defenders; the royal fleet’s own pieces gleefully joining in. In the ensuing melee, Sten Sture the Younger suffered a grievous wound to the shoulder, as he fought tooth and nail to throw down the royal escalade attempt. Covered by his supporters’ shields the Lord Steward was dragged into the safety of Stockholm Castle’s depths. However, the retreat of the Sture paramount finally broke the back of the capitals’ defenders, who abandoned their posts in droves, some throwing down their arms and surrendering whilst others sought refuge with Sten Sture in the castle.
As the sun began to set it became apparent to both besiegers and the besieged that the second gate of Stockholm had been broken.
For the king, only Stockholm Castle remained.
Footnotes:
[1]Otto Svinhufvud (literally meaning swine’s head) was one of the first members of the Swedish council of the realm to agitate for surrender in OTL.
[2]As in OTL.
[3]Respectively the former archbishop of Uppsala and Lord Steward, if you remember chapter 4.
[4]Indeed, if you remember chapter 4, he was the one commanding the forces of the Peace Party at the skirmish on Riddarholmen just before the Younger Sture couped his way to the stewardship.
[5]A slightly altered OTL quote actually describing the Dalarna peasantry.
[6]In OTL, Leijonhufvud was one of the very first secular councilors who went over to Christian II. In OTL, like Sparre, he remained devotedly loyal to the king, but was nevertheless executed in the Stockholm Bloodbath.
[7]In our time, the peasantry around lake Mälaren was fiercely opposed to peace and would have wanted to continue the struggle, were it not for the higher estates’ desire for peace.
[8]Unlike their countrymen further north, the commoners of Öster Götland were surprisingly meek in OTL and accepted Christian II’s authority without much fuss.
[9]This happened in OTL as well after the death of Sten Sture the Younger.
[10]These men were all members of an anti-Sture opposition group, who gathered in Uppsala, after the death of the Lord Steward. ITTL, events force them to side with the king sooner than they would have liked.
[11]Believe it or not, but this actually happened in OTL as well. One could very well question the motives behind Sten Sture the Younger’s call for help: Most probably he hoped to use the might of the Polish king to crush the unionists and their Danish masters, only to bog Sigismund down in a constitutional quagmire akin to those the Lord Stewards had used for so long against the Oldenburg monarchs.
[12]During the OTL 1520 campaign, A LOT of peasant rebellions continued to plague Christian II’s army. These were strengthened by the fact that many castles (such as Kalmar) still remained in the hands of Sture partisans. Furthermore, the deceitful kidnapping of Gustav Vasa, Hemmingh Gadh and other Sture hostages in 1518 had really put a dent in the king’s image in Sweden. ITTL, these event did not come to pass. On top of that, the harrowing by the mercenaries are less because of the better Danish finances, the Peace Party is far more clear in its support for Christian II and, of course, Sten Sture is less popular for “murdering” Gustav Trolle.
[13]My own translation.
[14]Also OTL.
[15]The siege in OTL dragged on and on with Christian II being opposed to storming the city. Instead he aimed at a negotiated end, but this would hardly be possible ITTL, given the survival of the Younger Sture. No settlement could be reached while he remained alive and the unstable situation both at home and in Sweden meant that the royal forces could not simply starve the defenders into submission. Indeed, IOTL, it was feared that the siege would have to be broken if Stockholm wasn’t either stormed or willingly surrendered.
[16]This is actually a depiction of the Siege of Copenhagen during the Count’s Feud from 1599.
King Christian II (born 1481). King of Denmark and Norway, rightly chosen king of Sweden. King of the Wends and the Goths, Duke of Schleswig, Holstein and Stormarn as well as Count of Oldenburg and Delmenhorst.
His wife, Isabella (Elisabeth) of Habsburg (born 1501)
Prince Hans, their son (born 1517)
The Council of the Realm
Albert Jepsen Ravensberg (born ?). Fief-holder at Vordingborg, a diplomat who helped broker the marriage between the king and queen. Household steward to the latter.
Birger Gunnersen, Archbishop of Lund (born 1445). A staunch defender of the rights of the catholic church. Helped formulate the right of resistance in the king’s accession charter.
Eske Bille (born 1480). Younger brother of Ove Bille. Fief-holder at Copenhagen Castle.
Henrik Gøye (born ?). Younger brother of Mogens Gøye. A skilled commander and warrior.
Henrik Krummedige (born 1465). Fief-holder at Varberg. The king’s supreme commander. Took charge of the Danish army during the 1518-1519 campaign.
Mogens Gøye (born 1470). Richest nobleman in the realm. A fast friend and supporter of the king. Eager for reform.
Ove Bille, Bishop of Aarhus (born before 1480). The king’s chancellor and one of his earliest supporters.
Predbjørn Podebusk of Vosborg (born 1460). Fief-holder at Riberhus. Conservative knight and nobleman. Opposed to the king.
Other persons of note
Hans Mikkelsen (born ca. 1470). Mayor of Malmø. An industrious and resourceful proponent of trade and the rights of the burghers.
Mogens Gyldenstjerne (born 1485). The king’s personal standard-bearer.
Peder Skram (born 1503). His squire. Knighted after the Battle at Örebro.
Otte Krumpen (Born 1480). Commander of the royal forces around Kalmar.
Søren Norby (born 1470). An extremely skilled naval commander and sometime privateer
The Hereditary Kingdom of Norway
King Christian II (born 1481)
His wife, Isabella (Elisabeth) of Habsburg (born 1501)
Prince Hans, their son (born 1517)
The Council of the Realm
Erik Valkendorf (born ?). The king’s former chancellor and private secretary. Archbishop of Trondheim. A man concerned with maintaining what influence the church might have without offending the king.
Karl Knutsson Tre Rosor (born ?). Son of Knut Alvsson, a man executed for attempting to rebel against king Hans. A skilled commander and fief-holder at Bohus castle.
The Elective Kingdom of Sweden
(in open rebellion)
King Christian II (born 1481), by the terms of the 1512 Peace of Malmø rightly chosen heir to the Swedish throne.
Lord Sten Sture the Younger (born 1493). Lord Steward of the Swedish realm. An ambitious man, consumed by the call to destroy the last vestiges of the Kalmar Union and create a strong centralized Swedish monarchy. Grievously wounded at the Siege of Stockholm 1519.
His wife, Kristina Nilsdotter Gyllenstierna.
Their sons
Nils Stensson Sture (born 1512). Sent into exile in Danzig.
Svante Stensson Sure (born 1517).
The Lord Steward’s Men
Bengt Arendsson Ulv (born circa 1460). Councilor of the Realm. Staunch Sture supporter.
Giovannangelo Arcimboldi (born 1485). Devious schemer by nature and trader of indulgences by profession. Papal legate. Hopeful successor to the archiepiscopal see of Uppsala.
Matthias Gregersson Lillie (born before 1488). Bishop of Strängnäs. A secret supporter of Christian II.
Måns Gren (born ?). Councilor of the Realm. Staunch Sture supporter. Commanded the crossbowmen during the siege of Stockholm.
The King’s Men
Bengt Gylte (born ?). Councilor of the realm. Went over to the king after the Battle of Uppsala.
Erik Abrahamsson Leijonhufvud (born 1471). Councilor of the realm. Supporter of the aristocratic wing of the Peace Party. Opposed the Lord Steward, but served in the field during the 1518 Danish invasion. Changed sides after the Battle of Tiveden.
Erik Arvidsson Trolle (born 1460). Lord Steward of Sweden for a few months before Sten Sture the Younger assumed the office. Imprisoned by the Stures in Stockholm.
Hans Brask (born 1464). Bishop of Linköping and de facto leader of the Swedish catholic church. A cunning and devious man, he swung over to the king’s cause once Johan Rantzau descended on his bishopric.
Hemmingh Gadh (born 1452). Erstwhile bishop of Linköping and seasoned peasant leader. Lost his bishopric to Hans Brask on account of Sten Sture the Younger. Was in turn promised the archiepiscopal see of Uppsala, but lost it once the Lord Steward courted Giovannangelo Arcimboldi to his side. Captured at the Battle of Åsunden, he came over the king’s side.
Holger Karlsson Gera (born 1470). Councilor of the realm. Went over to the king after the Battle of Uppsala.
Jakob Arvidsson Trolle (born 1475). Uncle of the murdered archbishop of Uppsala, Gustav. A battlefield commander in service to Christian II.
Jakob Ulvsson Örnfot (born 1430). Former archbishop of Uppsala. Also imprisoned in Stockholm.
Johan Arendsson Ulv (born before 1486). Councilor of the realm. Went over to the king after the Battle of Uppsala.
Knut Nilsson Sparre (born ?). Councilor of the realm. Convinced Leijonhufvud to desert the Lord Steward.
Nils Bosson Grip (born 1460). Councilor of the realm. Imprisoned in Stockholm.
Otto Svinhufvud (born 1460s?). Bishop of Västerås. Joined the king as soon as the royal army was
outside his gates.
Peder Turesson Bielke (born 1469). Councilor of the realm. Went over to the king early on
Ture Jönsson (born 1475). Fief-holder at Älvsborg. A man of fickle loyalties.
Author's Note: For my own personal use, I decided to make a list where I keep track of the various people who've appeared in the story so far. I thought some of you might enjoy it (and find it useful) as we move on.
"It must be understood that a prince, and especially a new prince, cannot observe all those things which are considered good in men, being often obliged, in order to maintain the state, to act against faith, against charity, against humanity, and against religion. And, therefore, he must have a mind disposed to adapt itself according to the wind, and as the variations of fortune dictate, and, as I said before, not deviate from what is good, if possible, but be able to do evil if necessitated."
-
Niccolò Machiavelli, the Prince 1513
On the morning of the 25th of April 1519, the city of Stockholm surrendered.
The town walls had been battered into submission by canonfire and its defenders mercilessly cut down or led into captivity on Laudagårdslandet. From atop the Brunkeberg, Christian II had stood motionless long into the night as his army of veteran sellswords, Danish levies and pro-unionist feudal retainers mopped up the remaining resistance before subjecting the city to a brief but furious sacking. One obstacle, however, remained unconquered: the defenders of Stockholm Castle.
The Lord Steward had been grievously wounded whilst leading the defence of Helgeandsholmen and had been carried into the castle. Several surgeons tried fervently to save their master’s life, but in the end, there was nothing that could be done. At the young age of 26, Lord Sten committed his soul to God and died. The mantle of the Sture cause now passed to the widowed Lady Kristina Gyllenstierna, as regent for her young son Nils. Kristina was a talented and shrewd woman, no stranger to the burden of government, as she had in effect ruled the realm whilst her husband was in the field. She was, furthermore, fully committed to the Stures’ ambition of breaking the stranglehold of the Oldenburg dynastic union. However, even to her, the situation could not appear as anything but hopeless. The castle had suffered tremendously by the Danish bombardment and the morale of its garrison plummeted once the news of the Lord Steward’s passing began to spread. Even if the king of Poland were to send a relief force, it would be months if not years before it would arrive, complicated by the undisputed paramountcy of the Oldenburg navy.
In this moment of sorrow and crisis, two factions emerged within the Sture Party, respectively arguing for surrender and resistance. The first grouping was headed by bishop Matthias Gregersson Lillie of Strängnäs[1] and enjoyed the support of a great many of the city’s wealthiest German merchants[2]. Opposing this clerical faction were the two secular councilors remaining in the capital; Bengt Arendsson Ulv (brother of councilor Johan Ulv, who had submitted to Christian II) and Måns Gren, fief holder at Nyköping castle. They were in turn supported by the majority of the capital’s Swedish mayors.
Excerpt from the altarpiece in Västerås Cathedral, early 16th century. Showing (on the left) Sten Sture the Younger and (on the right) his wife Kristina Nilsdotter Gyllenstierna. After the Lord Steward’s death, it fell on the shoulders of Lady Kristina to salvage the remains of the Sture Party.
For the first few days after the assault, those advocating continued resistance managed to keep the troops confident in the prospect of waiting out the siege, but the effects of the blockade and constant bombardment by the royal forces quickly eroded their authority.
At the king’s headquarters, news of Sten Sture’s passing was met with considerable joy. To Christian II the death of his most ardent rival marked the highwater mark of his ambition of restoring the Nordic union. The aristocrats within the Peace Party were also jubilant. Lord Sten had proven himself a wanton autocrat, waging a bitter feud against the most prestigious estates of the realm, temporal as well as ecclesiastical. With the Lord Steward’s demise, Brask and his clique of bishops hoped that the good old order would soon return and their rights and privileges would be restored and protected. Little did they know that they in their eagerness to curb the power of the stewardship had put a fox to guard the geese of their constitutional rights.
Lord Sten's passing combined with the capture of Stockholm city led the loyalist Swedish council of the realm to proclaim Christian II their king and the office of Lord Steward redundant. Under a flag of truce, and in the presence of Mogens Gyldenstjerne carrying the royal standard, a delegation led by Hans Brask, Joakim Trolle and Hemmingh Gadh approached the castle walls on the 1st of May. Måns Gren almost succeeded in reiterating the events of April, where he had ordered crossbowmen on the walls of Helgeandsholmen to open fire on the king’s ambassadors, but he was intercepted by Lady Kristina’s men who managed to belay the order.
Admitted to the castle’s council hall, Brask delivered the king’s promises to rule according to St. Erik’s law and the good old customs of the realm. Were the defenders to surrender the castle “... all disfavour and suspicion were to be forgiven and should never again be levied against them.”[3] If they, however, refused Christian's offer they would instead be considered the king and Sweden’s most ardent enemies and rebels. With little hope of rallying either foreign or domestic forces against the crown's troops, Lady Kristina agreed to enter into negotiations with the king based on his offer of conciliation[4].
For Christian II, time too was of the essence. The expense of keeping his army and navy in the field threatened to bankrupt his finances and the longer it took to secure Stockholm’s castle, the more time his enemies abroad and at home had to recuperate. Margaret of Austria’s small fleet might have brought ordnance and powder, but the remaining 30.000 guelders of Isabella’s dowry were nowhere to be seen. Thus, even though the king’s men had taken the city, Sten Sture’s widow, to a certain extent, had the upper hand. Assurances were given that none of those involved in Gustav Trolle's trial and the seizure of Almarestäket would be punished; by neither a secular nor a ecclesiastical court. Furthermore, Lady Kristina was to be eneffoed with the fief of Tavastehus in Finland as well as several profitable manors and estates in central Sweden. To the king, the question of the Sture heirs was, however, a thorny issue. Sweden might have been subdued by the crown’s military might for the time being, but time and time again the easternmost part of the union had risen up at the slightest spark; as long as a credible leader had presented himself.
In the end, Lady Kristina consented to having her oldest son sent to Denmark from Danzig, where he would be brought up in the royal court as a boon companion to prince Hans. Undoubtedly, in doing so, Christian II hoped to replicate his father’s handling of Knut Alvsson’s son, who had grown up to become one of the staunchest champions of the three state union.
The Sture widow thus gratified, the mayors of Stockholm were next in line to meet the royal ambassadors. They too received the king’s promise of amnesty for their participation in the persecution of Gustav Trolle, but when it came to the issue of officially surrendering the city, Christian II’s burgher representative, Hans Mikkelsen, presented them with something of a fait-accompli. Whilst the aristocracy were to be rewarded for their newfound loyalty through a reaffirmation of their enfeoffments and offices of state, the king demanded that the city of Stockholm itself be granted to him as his personal property. Following the king's death, Stockholm would then pass on to his son and only upon prince Hans' own passing would the city to return to the Swedish council of the realm[5]. With the city already occupied by Christian II’s troops and Lady Kristina well on her way to establishing a rapprochement with the king, there was little the capital’s burghers could do to challenge the royal demand. As such, when the king happily wrote queen Isabella that “... the city of Stockholm has finally come into Our hand...” he meant it in a very literal sense. Måns Gren and Bengt Ulv were also taken back into the king’s grace, but had to make do with significantly less profitable (and less strategically important) enfeoffments; Gren having to accept the transfer of Västerås castle to the control of Peder Bielke.
To Giovannangelo Arcimboldi, however, the king's grace did not extend. The would-be archbishop of Uppsala had overplayed his hand by double-crossing Christian and by throwing his support behind a manifest heretic and enemy of the Church. Arcimboldi’s not inconsiderable wealth, accumulated through the sale of letters of indulgence, was confiscated and added to the king’s coffers and he himself clasped in irons and deported to Zealand. His rough treatment was loudly applauded by the entirety of Sweden's prelates, understandably hostile towards a foreign interloper who had aspired to rule them. Victorious at every compass point, Christian II prepared to receive the acclamation of his redeemed subjects.
The Homage Poster, made in Antwerp ca. 1520 by Kort Steinkamp and Hans Kruse. On the left, Christian II is blessed by Hans Brask and the Swedish prelates whilst on the right, he receives the acclaim of the citizens of Stockholm. In the centre, the royal fleet lies anchored.
On the 1st of May, the mayors and burghers of Stockholm made their way to the royal camp on the Brunkeberg. After a short ceremony, the capital’s mayors once more handed over the keys of the city to the king, whereupon the commoners loudly acclaimed Christian II. Celebratory cannon fire marked the occasion, but also served to remind the Stockholmers of the king’s might. Christian, however, did not linger in the ruins of the defeated Sture capital. His coronation and formal affixation of the Swedish charter of accession had been postponed to Christmas 1519, in order to give Stockholm time to recuperate after the damages wrought by the siege.
Indeed, plenty of other matters of state required Christian’s attention. In that regard it was no coincidence that Hans Mikkelsen had been present at the negotiations with the burghers of the conquered capital. Besides convincing the intransigent Stockholm merchants that they had no choice but to surrender their city into the king’s hand, Mikkelsen had been hard at work formulating the founding charter for one Christian II’s other great projects: the creation of a royally-sanctioned trading company. This company would aim at eliminating the Hansa completely from the profitable Baltic trade by establishing commercial relations directly with the mercantile hubs in the Low Countries under the aegis of the Oldenburg triple crown. Representatives from the Danish and Norwegian market towns had already presented themselves at Copenhagen castle, eager to put their weight behind royal proposal[6].
Merchants from all three realms were to be enrolled in the company which would centre itself on faktorier (factories) and storing places. These were to be founded in Copenhagen and Stockholm in Scandinavia proper, in Viborg on the Finno-Russo border and in Antwerp in the Low Countries[7]. Each hub would be managed by a Faktor, an official appointed by the crown in concert with the major contributors to the company. Goods such as copper, iron ore, tallow, timber, elk and cow hides, salted herring, grain and beer could be easily exported from the Nordic heartlands, but the establishment of a faktorie on the Russian border would open a window to the wealth of the Trans-Ladogan market and its abundance of honey, hemp, flax and vax.
Undoubtedly, the creation of the company was of great economic importance to the crown, but Christian II also sought to consolidate the Oldenburg conglomerate state by tying the merchant estates of the three realms together in the common cause of profit. Indeed, this point is mentioned in the very opening line of the company charter where the signatories rejoice that the “... long and heavy war and feud between Sweden and Denmark...” was finally at an end and that they had resolved to found the company as a way to ensure “... that the three realms hereafter shall remain together united in an eternal peace and concord.”[8] Furthermore, the charter also obliged the signatories to support the king and his descendants with all their might if anyone challenged the crown. As a gesture of goodwill, Christian II granted the company the rights to the management of all of Sweden’s mining industries; a move which, without a doubt, served to draw more and more of the Swedish mercantile estate into the company’s embrace.
Seen at a wider perspective, the stipulations of the company’s charter marked the first official instance of a written letter of alliance between the trading estate and the Nordic triple crown. As later events would prove, it would not be the last.
Back in Copenhagen, Christian II was met by his young wife and his one year old son and heir, Hans. Isabella, or Elysabet (Elisabeth) as she had begun to style herself had not been idle during the king’s Swedish campaigns. Alongside the rigsmarsk (Lord Marshal), Mogens Gøye, she had spent the years since her marriage to foster better relations between her adopted country and her native Netherlands. Some 180 Dutch peasants had been engaged by commission of the royal court to move from Frisia and southern Holland to the isle of Amager, adjacent to Copenhagen, where they were to construct farms and estates and modernise the agricultural practices of the realm by introducing new crops and fruits. Pregnant throughout the early months of 1519, Elisabeth had become beloved by the citizens of the capital on account of her grace, piety and modesty. Such was her importance to the booming trade between the Burgundian and Nordic realms, that Dutch and Flemish merchants experiencing difficulties would quite often go directly to her to instead of approaching the king’s chancellor.
Maritime trade in the Baltic ca. 1520. Foremost amongst the rivals of the Oldenburg monarchs, militarily as well as economically speaking, was the Wendish subsidiary of the Hanseatic League under the leadership of the city of Lübeck. The city of Danzig, nestled between the reeling German Order and the Polish crown had also often thrown its lot in with the union king’s enemies. Although the Nordic Trading Company did not possess a fixed head-office, the geographical location of the Copenhagen faktorie would mean a gravitation of importance towards the Sound region and its buzzling cities of Copenhagen and Malmø.
The strengthening of relations with the Low Countries and the formation of the Trade Company were only the first pearl on a long string of ambitious reforms. The goods produced around the Baltic and the Russian interior were valuable indeed, but Christian's eyes were set on wider horizons. Whilst sojourning in Copenhagen, the king wrote his faithful naval commander Søren Norby and tasked him with returning to the Sound provinces. There he was to prepare his vessels for a long journey North. By way of the archbishop of Trondheim, Christian had become interested in rekindling contact with the old Norse settlements on Greenland, a mission the adventurous Norby responded with gusto, proclaiming to the king that “... after midsummer, I shall be able and willing to travel to Greenland or whatever other place in the world, whereto Your Grace should command me.”[9] Sending his most skilled naval captain away on such a dangerous trip with an entire squadron under his command underlines the importance of the task, the king had given Norby. The reason for this is perhaps to be found in a letter sent to the king by one of his trusted secretaries, a certain burgher by the name of Klaus Pedesen. Pedersen vividly exhorted the king to reestablish contact with the Greenlandic settlements, and use them as a base to reach further west and tap into the riches of the New World, proclaiming that:
“... I beg Your Grace, to take to heart that my proposal is neither fabrication nor a dream; I shall prove it to be truth. If our Lord God in Heaven lends us His grace and luck, then it shall benefit Your Grace and the realm of Denmark until eternity [...] But I do hope that, by the grace of God, more shall come of this enterprise than glory, wealth and honour, such as great and eternal benefits. Once I have come into Your Grace’s presence, then I shall explain the matter in such a way that Your Grace would see that I am right to declare that it is far easier for Your Grace to accomplish this task than those Spaniards, who by the day reach further and further towards Greenland…”[10]
A Spanish threat to the Greenland might seem ludicrous to modern eyes, but it proves that the Greenlandic settlements had not been forgotten in late medieval Scandinavia and that it was correctly believed to be a part of (or on the way to) the wealth of the New World. In early July, Søren Norby’s small fleet of 10 ships, including the caravel the Angel, departed Copenhagen, for Trondheim, wherefrom the voyage to Iceland would be undertaken. Messages had been sent ahead to the redeemed possessions in the Atlantic, ordering the local sheriffs to gather what supplies they could and stand ready to assist, if the fleet were to be sighted.
By September, the king was pleased with the birth of twin sons, named Filip and Maximilian[11]. Although the queen survived her ordeal, she had been extremely weakened and for a short period of time, it was feared that her life might been in danger. Fortunately, after a week of recuperation both mother and sons had recovered enough for the bells of the Church of Our Lady to herald the addition of two new princes to the royal family. The succession, it seemed, had been definitely secured. However, the strains of childbirth meant that Elisabeth was prevented from joining her husband when he sailed for Stockholm in early December, the king leaving his young wife behind once again.
On the 16th of December, Christian II entered the Swedish capital, still marked by the scars of his rough conquest. As the king's procession passed through the Nordström gate, it was greeted enthusiastically by burghers and commoners lining the streets. That night the entirety of the Swedish council of the realm feasted their returned sovereign in the main hall of Stockholm castle. As the last courses were cleared away, events took a sudden turn. Jakob Arvidsson Trolle rose from his seat and held a long speech, praising the king for rescuing his wayward realm from traitors and heretics, before adding menacingly that some issues still remained to be settled, before Christian could be crowned.
At this, a number of soldiers entered the room, bared their steel and barred the doors, effectively trapping the entire upper hierarchy of the Swedish realm. The king, it appeared, still had a few words to say.
Footnotes:
[1]In OTL, Gregersson was one of Christian II’s most ardent loyalists. He’s still a believer in the king’s cause ITTL, but events have conspired to keep him in Stockholm before he could leave the city. Thus, in this timeline, he’s at hand within the castle to agitate for surrender.
[2]Like in our time, the German merchants of Stockholm proved very fickle in their affections. In the end, it mattered little to them whether the lord of the city was Christian II or Sten Sture.
[3]My own translation.
[4]As I mentioned in the previous update, the OTL successes of the peasantry resistance is butterflied away by, amongst many other things, the fact that the Danes have kept control over the most important fortresses in the realm. Unrest is still bountiful, especially in the provinces not occupied by Christian II’s men or unionist adherents, but the great battles fought IOTL are more or less avoided.
[5]This happened in OTL as well.
[6]The Nordic Trade Company was an actual idea of Christian II, which he put to paper after his OTL Swedish campaign. It was on its way to be set in motion when the rebellion against Christian II erupted in Sweden and Denmark.
[7]These are the OTL sites mentioned for the company. Viborg, however, is a guess on my part. The sources only mention a centre on the Finno-Russian border, which I’ve interpreted as meaning Viborg.
[8]OTL quote. My own translation.
[9]Original quote says “after Easter.” In our time, Norby’s mission was aborted by the insurrections against Christian II. ITTL, these events haven’t come to pass.
[10]This is an actual OTL quote, somewhat abridged by yours truly.
[11]In OTL, Isabella suffered a miscarriage to which the king simply responded “drink less Rhenish wine.” Given the better relations between the king and queen and less stress suffered by not going through the whole Dyveke affair and the strains of our time’s troubled Swedish campaigns, I suppose it’s plausible for the labour to have gone a lot better.
"If the apostle had written the holy gospel for the realm of Denmark, he would have done so in proper Danish, so all would have understood it. Thus every man should know it in his own tongue, for none can be hallowed without it and the holy faith."
-
Christiern Pedersen, 1517
"... that elegant literature which has so long been reduced almost to extinction, has now for some time been studied and absorbed by Scots and Danes and Irishmen." -
Erasmus to Wolfgang Capito, 1517
Since its occurrence at Christmastide 1519, the Stockholm Coup has stood as a defining moment of Christian II’s reign.
With the entire council of the realm assembled in the council hall of Stockholm castle, the king loudly declared that even though he had promised them amnesty, he could only do so as a secular prince; the charges levied against the Sture party by the Church were thus not within his power to forgive. Ove Bille, the royal chancellor and bishop of Århus, then rose from his seat beside the king and produced the declaration of the 1517 Riksdag[1], wherein the signatories (which included almost all of the Swedish councilors, Hans Brask being a notable exception) had given their consent to the persecution of Gustav Trolle. To Bille, this document proved that all those who had affixed their seals to the declaration were equally guilty in the “murder” of the archbishop and were thus liable for persecution by the Church. In his mind, there could be no doubt of the verdict; the conspirators had proven themselves to be heretics and were thus fit to lose their lives at the stake or by the sword. Consequently, the bishop, concluded, he handed over the duty of executing the verdict to the realm’s secular authority; Christian II. At this, a great disturbance erupted, which was only stopped when the king’s soldiers hammered the shafts of their halberds into the stone floor.
Seated on his throne, Christian II spoke calmly of the implications of this grave crime and the sadness he felt at having to meet out the required justice. However, the king asked for clemency. He had, after all, promised the nobles and prelates a full and binding amnesty. To this Bille replied that his ecclesiastical scholars and lawyers had found it fully within the king’s right to pardon those handed over to the justice of the secular authority. It was a masterful piece of political theatre. The king and his chancellor respectively playing the role of mercy and vengeance perfectly; with the white faced Swedish council of the realm as involuntary spectators. Deliberating the words of the Aarhus bishop for a moment, the king proclaimed that he would consider the prospect of the verdict and let the assembly know his judgement, as soon as some other items had been decided upon[2].
The Judgement of Cambyses: the Arrest of the Corrupt Judge Sisamnes by Gerard David, 1487/88. It is quite likely that Sisamnes’ look of bewilderment and horror would have been found in the Stockholm council hall during the events of Christmas 1519.
At this, the doors opened and Jens Beldenak Andersen, bishop of Odense, entered with a troop of secretaries, deacons and attendants: including the Imperial ambassador, Johan Sucket[3]. Facing the king, Andersen declared that he had been studying the law of Saint Erik whilst preparing the crown’s case for the coming accession charter negotiations and had discovered several remarkable points. Saint Erik’s law, he claimed, stipulated that the electoral college was only to exercise its right of election, if there were several claimants to choose from. At his own appointment in 1512, Christian II had had a brother, Francis, which made the election legal and correct, but now 7 years later, there were no other royal candidates. Consequently, the law thus stipulated ipso facto that Christian was the rightful and sole heir to the Swedish throne by mantle of birth and inheritance. The Imperial ambassador then weighed in on the matter, by proclaiming that he and his master thought such a verdict to be just and proper. This rather shaky legal interpretation was then reinforced by the argument that the king verily was of hallowed Saint Erik’s own bloodline; his grandfather’s mother, Helvig of Schauenburg, had been a granddaughter of one of Magnus IV Eriksson the Caresser’s nieces, whilst Magnus IV himself had been a descendent on his mother’s side of Saint Erik.
Christian II was thus on his mother’s side related to Sweden’s own patron saint and the name-giver of the nation’s laws. Based on these two points, Beldenak argued, there could be no doubt that his majesty the king had cause to assume the title of hereditary ruler of the Swedish realm. This was a shocking development. The right and privilege of the council of the realm to freely elect its sovereign was a central tenet in the foundation of the aristocracy’s political power and a major issue for the members of the Peace Party. If they surrendered their electoral mandate, they would lose all influence and claim to governance, becoming just another lowly estate at the mercy of the crown.
The king then presented the council with an ultimatum. He would not exercise his legal right to the hereditary Swedish crown, but he would seek the council’s oathbound promise that none of his descendents should ever again be denied their claim to the throne by any pretender not of his lineage. He thus demanded the council include an article in his accession charter specifically naming his first-born son, Hans, as the prince-elect of Sweden and that his firstborn son should also be proclaimed as such upon his birth. This constitutional ploy maintained the facade of a free election, but in effect narrowed the list of candidates to solely include the descendants of Christian II, all but ensuring the erosion of the elective nature of the Swedish monarchy which would gradually gravitate towards a hereditary system[4].
Faced with the choice of either maintaining some form of authority and political power or see all of their influence eradicated before being beheaded, the council of the realm capitulated to the king’s demands. That very night, an accession charter was agreed upon, drastically limiting the aristocracy’s constitutional mandate in favour of the crown. Unsurprisingly, the charter made no mention of any jus resistendi.
On Christmas Day 1519, Christian II entered Storkyrkan in central Stockholm, flanked on one side by his Danish and Norwegian councilors of the realm, whilst his, still visibly shaken, Swedish councilors trudged along on the other. Henrik Krummedige, the king’s victorious general, lead the procession, carrying the crown. He was followed by Erik Leijonhufvud with the sceptre, Henrik Gøye with the orb and Knut Sparre with the sword[5].
Hemmingh Gadh, finally wearing his coveted mitre of the Uppsala archbishopric, conducted the coronation, assisted by Hans Brask and a small army of deacons, canons and priests. Upon the completion of the ceremony, the king placed his right hand on the bible and solemnly swore to uphold his coronation oath, accession charter and all the good old laws and customs of the land. After Gadh had placed the crown upon his brow, a throne was placed in front of the altar, where the king seated himself with his coronation sword in his right hand. Several men of prominence were then knighted in full view of the cathedral, some of them having already been granted that honour on the field outside Örebro, Otte Krumpen, Henrik Gøye, Karl Knutsson, Knut Sparre, Erik Leijonhufvud and Jakob Trolle being just the most prominent[6].
The ceremony was followed by three days of general celebration, mixing the regal event with Christmas joy and religious festivities. The symbolism was not lost on contemporary commentators; just like the birth of Christ had marked the redemption of mankind, so did Christian II’s coronation represent the rebirth of the Nordic dynastic Union.
The restored Kalmar Union, or the Collegatio of the North. The phrase, “These three realms united” became more and more common in the sources of the era, as the Royal Trading Company’s charter was spread throughout the Oldenburg domains. The nature of the borders of the Danish fiefs (marked in red; Norwegian and Swedish fiefs respectively coloured gold and blue) are an approximate estimation, as the country was just entering a period of radical administrative reform.
As the joy of Christmas passed, Christian assembled the council of the realm at Stockholm castle to settle the matter of Sweden’s governance in his absence. Since the capital was now his personal possession, the king appointed Henrik Krummedige as his royal stadtholder. Krummedige would act as the crown’s representative in a so-called four-man cabinet wherein Hemmingh Gadh, Hans Brask and Erik Abrahamsson Leijonhufvud would also serve[7]. The new government aimed to restore peace to the wartorn country, dispatching messengers and heralds to those hundreds in Dalarna and Värmland where the embers of insurrection still lingered. However, the royal army was in the process of being demobilised and by the day, more and more Landsknecht companies were being ferried across the Baltic back to the increasingly unstable continent. Krummedige had to rely on a token force of some 500 mercenaries and crown officers to keep the peace, a detachment with which he could barely hope to hold the city. The collapse of the Sture cause and the exile of Lady Kristina to Finland, however, meant that it would only be a matter of time before the council could assume complete control over the realm.
With the Swedish question thus settled, Christian II boarded his flagship, the Maria, on the day after Candlemas, the 3rd of February 1520, when the winds had finally proven favourable. As the cold winter breeze gently pulled the royal fleet out of the Stockholm skerries, one can imagine how exuberant a moment it would have been for the young king. He had seemingly broken the back of both wings of the Swedish aristocracy and secured the succession for the House of Oldenburg in perpetuity throughout the north, whilst his lieutenants were plowing through the dark waters of the Atlantic to extend his domains into the vastness of the New World.
When the top sails of the royal fleet were spotted entering the Sound a week later, Copenhagen was gripped with excitement. Burghers and commoners lined the docks to laud the return of their conquering king and his host of troops, showering the royal procession with shouts of acclaim. Even though the citizens of the realm had felt the heavy hand of war taxes and conscription for military service on their shoulders, the royal coffers had been able to sustain the economic burden of the Swedish campaign without impoverishing the country. None of the Funen peasants had been forced to clear out of their homes in support of the Oldenburg cause, as they had once promised king Hans. In the words of a contemporary chronicler writing of the mood in the country upon Christian’s victory in Sweden, it seemed as if “... all of Denmark’s realm stood abloom…[8]”
However, one particular group of people did not find the return of the king to be a entirely pleasant affair.
News of Christian II’s rough treatment of the Swedish nobility and his constitutional feint had preceded his arrival, making the domestic aristocracy extremely apprehensive. Technically, there was nothing the Danish council of the realm could do; the accession charter had only forbidden the king to force the council to name his son prince-elect in Denmark. In Swedish matters, the Danish councilar aristocracy had no say and could make no objection. Thus, for the first time in decades, it seemed as if the constitutional quagmire, previously so skillfully used by the nobility to arrest the advance of the crown, had been turned to the king’s advantage. Relations between the two sides soured further once Christian threw himself into his next great matter, the reform of the Danish church.
Desiderius Erasmus by Hans Holbein, 1523. Known as “the Prince of the Humanists” Erasmus was by far the most prominent scholar in Europe at the dawn of the 16th century. With a wit as sharp as a battle sword, he led a scathing attack upon the established theology, piety, monasticism and church policy of the times. To the Christian Humanists, Christianity had to be socially relevant; based on the Bible and the theologians of the early church, one was supposed to live according to Christ’s matter of fact example and not put undue importance on complicated theologian dissertations or dogmatic systems.
Archbishop Birger Gunnersen of Lund, the venerable champion of the catholic church’s independence and splendour had died in his sleep in December 1519 at the high age of 74. Not only did his passing mean the councilar opposition had lost of one of its greatest intellectual leaders, but it also brought the old struggle between the king and the ecclesiastical members of his council back to the forefront of Danish politics. The archiepiscopal college had already put forward one of their own, the noble Aage Sparre, as Gunnersen’s successor, but had been prevented from affirming him in the office as the king had sent word from Stockholm, ordering the proceedings to be delayed until he could attend in person. Furthermore, the college had passed a motion, barring any commoner from obtaining the office - a move which seemed to serve as a final nail in the coffin of longstanding feud between Gunnersen and the Scanian nobility[9].
Such a development was anathema to Christian II’s policy towards the church. As an oppositional candidate, he brought forward his own personal chaplain, Christiern Pedersen, a young humanist who had studied at Greifswald and Paris and served as a canon at Roskilde cathedral and as chancellor to the late archbishop[10]. With such impeccable credentials, there was little the Lund college could say or do to oppose the will of the king, and since Christian graciously agreed to leave the three hundreds of Næsbyholm in the see’s possession (an issue which had been ongoing for quite some time), the archiepiscopal college was finally driven to accept Pedersen - almost of its own accord.
The investiture of the highest ecclesiastical office upon the brow of such a young person (being only 40 at the time), who quite clearly enjoyed the king’s friendship was of immense importance for the religious development of not just Denmark, but all of Scandinavia. Furthermore, in the eyes of many members of the council of the realm, Christiern Pedersen’s appointment was tantamount to breaching the terms of the accession charter (specifically the article ensuring the church it’s right to elect its own bishops without royal interference), which, combined with the king’s provocative policy in Sweden, led to an irrevocable divide between Christian and a portion of the councilar aristocracy.
Pedersen’s investiture was completed on the 25th of March 1520, coinciding with the Feast of the Annunciation, and soon thereafter, the king bestowed another important office upon a humanist favourite. The 35 year old carmelite friar, Poul Helgesen, was elevated to the leader of the order’s new, royally funded, college in Copenhagen. The carmelites were renowned for both their academic credentials and fervent sermons of reform and Helgesen in particular, who had been raised in the order’s monastery at Varberg, possessed an eloquence in speech and writing unmatched in the three northern realms. The tasks of the young carmelite friar included teaching at Copenhagen University and giving sermons in the Cathedral of Our Lady, thus putting Helgesen in a unique position to influence the education of the coming ecclesiastical generations.
The University itself was also subjected to new rules and directions attributed to the king’s own hand; no native student was to attend a foreign university before he had obtained a bachelor’s degree from Copenhagen University. By this, Christian II hoped to strengthen the academic power and credentials of the national educational institutions; a move which was reinforced by the decree that henceforth, all rectors of the vernacular cathedral schools were to have obtained such a degree before being admitted to their position. Furthermore, messengers visited all centres of learning in the realm, demanding the destruction of the old scholastic textbooks and their replacement with new, modern humanist texts[11]. In response to this flurry of activity, several Christian humanist treaties were published in Copenhagen in the following years, kickstarting the movement which has since been named the Northern Humanist Revival[12].
Christ and the Virgin Interceding for Humanity before God the Father by Lucas Cranach the Elder, 1516-17. On the left, Christ, depicted as a Man of Sorrows, kneels to intercede on behalf of humanity, who is sheltered in the robes of the Virgin Mary. Although the humanist movement scorned the excesses and corrupt practices of the clergy, it still fervently believed that the Roman church could be saved. This had to be accomplished through a concerted cleansing and reformation and a return to the written word of the Bible as the basis of a pious life.
However, these edifying efforts were aimed at remedying the state of the church and the educational institutions from a long-term perspective. More tangible measures had to be enforced as well. Thus, in late August 1520, the royal chancery published the first of many recesses (royal legal proclamations) which would begin the normative process of fundamentally changing the relationship between the secular and spiritual authorities. Collectively known as Christian II’s Ecclesiastical Reces, the law intervened radically in the church’s prerogatory to administer itself and dramatically upset the balance of power between the church, the crown and the Roman Curia itself.
The articles of the recesses would go on to alter every aspect of religious practice within the Danish realm as well as the royal parts of Schleswig and Holstein. Examples vary from bishops being prohibited from keeping more than five men-at-arms to the proclamation that only four select orders of mendicant friars were allowed to engage in the collection of alms. The widespread abuse of the institution of alms gathering had long been a hated practice amongst the commoners and further articles restricted the begging brothers from accosting the peasantry and burghers at celebratory events such as weddings and harvesting feasts, whilst the practice of eliciting pay for doling out holy water on the sunday meal of the peasants was forbidden altogether.
Such attempts at limiting the transgressions of the clergy were legion, but whilst in essence being the product of the humanist revival, some changes dug deeper than others and carried the distinct feeling of power politics. Restraints were put in place regarding the church’s ability to acquire new land, prohibiting the practice of leaving one’s estate to the church, which hitherto had been the most prosperous way for the clergy to expand its possessions. Furthermore, the separate ecclesiastical jurisdiction, which the church had enjoyed in certain matters where its clergy was involved, was, except for matrimonial cases, abolished and put under the authority of the secular authority[13].
Of all the articles in Christian II’s great church reform, however, none is more famous than the Great Reces of 1520. With a single stroke, the king upended the established subservience of the Danish church to the Papal court in all canonical issues. Henceforth, such cases were to be tried, not at the Curia, but at a national court, situated at Roskilde, where four doctors and magistrates well-versed in both imperial and canonical law were to preside. The official reason found in the proclamation mentioned that “...the clerics could avoid the great damage and scorn, cost, corrosion and expense such a Roman trial would require, to such an effect that such gold and money could remain within the Realm[14].” However, the establishment of a national ecclesiastical court also provided the crown with an institution which could weaken the powerful prelates by lessening their ability to seek redress at a higher court. Still, it would be unwise to portray the Great Reces as a unilateral attack by the secular authority upon its spiritual counterpart. The archiepiscopal college in Lund and the carmelite college in Copenhagen were deeply involved in formulating the text of the proclamation, which furthermore enjoyed some support amongst a number of bishops; Ove Bille of Aarhus being the most prominent.
Nevertheless, the process of church reform caused considerable scandal in the echelons of the upper aristocracy from which a majority of the Danish prelates was drawn. Likewise, the king’s old friend and chancellor, Erik Valkendorf, was deeply troubled by the radical developments in the southern part of the union. Legally speaking, he had amble cause to worry. If the archbishop of Lund, the primate and first legate of the north, was to kowtow to a national, Danish, ecclesiastical court, then what of the other Nordic archbishops and prelates?
The king himself knew full well what a hornets’ nest he had stirred, but felt confident that he could weather the unrest his reforms would produce. The councilar opposition was still divided and Christian had excellent and vigorous lawyers on his side. The foreign backlash, however, was another matter. Whilst Christian II had garnered a lot of goodwill by punishing the Sture heretics and restoring the authority of the church in Sweden, his great reform work threatened to erode any advantages he might have enjoyed at the Curia. Consequently, the king concluded that he needed the support from someone powerful enough to make the Papacy resign itself to his ecclesiastical reorganisation. It was high time that he paid his brother-in-law a visit.
Footnotes:
[1]See chapter 4.
[2]No kidding, that’s his name. A fitting one, if I should say so myself. Suck it, Sture!
[3]If you hadn’t noticed it, the principal instigators of the Stockholm Bloodbath are not present ITTL. Gustav Trolle is dead and Didrik Slagheck is busting his ass off in Rome, hoping to win the king’s favour. Christian II hasn’t undergone his hardening transformation after Dyveke’s death and is instead ruling with the support of the (administrative) reformist faction of the nobility, aided by burgher secretaries. However, being the Machiavellian prince that he is, Christian II still seeks to utilise his strong position to the best of his ability.
[4]In OTL, the king simply went ahead and instituted a hereditary monarchy based on the arguments I’ve listed here. However, it is difficult to understate how absolutely radical a constitutional change he forced the council of the realm to agree to. It was such a controversial issue that when the Swedish nobles joined Gustav Vasa’s rebellion in OTL, many of them listed this constitutional transgression as their reason for defection, before, mentioning the Stockholm Bloodbath. Consequently, I’ve interpreted this as a product of Christian II’s OTL personality and extreme burgher influence. There can be no doubt that the king, like so many other princes of the time, sought to expand his authority and constitutional mandate, but without the influence of Sigbrit and her burgher allies and the drastic change in the king’s personality after 1517, I find it unlikely that he would go just as far ITTL. But let me know if you disagree.
[5]In OTL, no Swedish noblemen were given the honour of participating in the coronation procession, where Otte Krumpen carried the crown, Søren Norby the sceptre, Henrik Gøye the orb and the Holstenian Jürgen Pogwisch carried the sword. ITTL, Krumpen takes a secondary position, Norby is on his way to Greenland and beyond. Furthermore, the swifter more definite change of heart by the Peace Party puts them well inside the king’s grace.
[6]As had been the case at the coronation, no Swedes were knighted in OTL, which created a great amount of discontent. The king justified this with the claim that “the war had been won not by, but against Swedish arms.” ITTL several Swedish unionists join the assault on Stockholm and form a much more active anti-Sture faction, prompting the king to grant them the honour.
[7]In OTL, king Hans established a similar kind of government after his conquest.
[8]A slightly altered line from an OTL medieval ballad.
[9]This is OTL.
[10]In OTL, the king pushed for the candidacy of his personal secretary, the burgher Jørgen Skodborg. Christiern Pedersen was OTL an important figure within the Christian Humanist movement in Denmark and actually served in the offices listed. He was also responsible for publishing the Gesta Danorum in a printed form, preserving it for future generations.
[11]This is all OTL.
[12]Such a revival was actually in the works, and the mentioned books actually published OTL.
"And surely, Sir, the said Kyng of Dennemarke, thowgh in apparaunce, by owtward countenaunce, he schuld be judgyd to be a rasche manne, yet he is ryght wyse, sober and discrete; myndyng thestablisching of goode peax bytwyxt Cristen Princes, wherein he ryght substancially declaryd hys mynd at goode lengthe…"
Letter from Cardinal Wolsey to Henry VIII, describing the cardinal’s perception of Christian II of Denmark after their meeting in Ghent, July 1521
Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, King of Spain, Sicily and Naples, Duke of Burgundy and Lord of the Netherlands as painted by Bernard van Orley, 1519.
Despite the fact that he embodied the combined power and glory of his Burgundian, Habsburg and Spanish inheritances, one could forgive Charles V if he did not feel like the universal emperor, his enemies feared so much. Following the death of his grandfather, Maximillian, in 1519, the nineteen year old prince had barely managed to snap the imperial crown from Francis I (a good part of the Habsburg wealth having been invested in the Oldenburg marriage), but almost immediately afterwards, the low gentry, peasantry and burghers of his Castilian domains had revolted against his Flemish councilors and administrators. However, by the time of Christian II’s visit to the Netherlands, only Toledo in Castile and a few towns on the Valencian coast remained defiant of the imperial viceroy, Adrian Boyens.
Francis I, however, was resolved to strike whilst Charles was still preoccupied with the various crises haranguering his vast domains. To divert the emperor’s attention from Italy, where the French king hoped to advance his claims in Naples, he directed The Young Adventurer, Robert de la Marck, son of the duke of Bouillon, Lord of Sedan and one of Francis’ closest companions, to invade the Duchy of Luxembourg. Although de la Marck was forced to withdraw by an imperial army under Henry III, Duke of Nassau, the French offensive was augmented in June when a Franco-Navarrese force under the nominal command of the 18 year old king of Navarre, Henry II, crossed the Pyrenees and occupied all of Spanish Navarre.
As if French attacks on his Flemish and Spanish realms weren’t bad enough, Charles also had to contend with the Lutheran heresy spreading like a wildfire throughout the Holy Roman Empire. The reformist preachings of Martin Luther had, however, a single silver lining: Pope Leo X had come to the conclusion that between Charles and Francis, only the emperor would be able to contain the heresies advanced by the lapsed Augustinian. Furthermore, Francis’ obstinate refusal to relinquish his claims to Parma and Piacenza in Italy, served to finally drive the Pope to the Emperor’s side. Thus, in May 1521, the temporal and spiritual heads of Christendom concluded a treaty to drive the French beast of the Revelation from its Italian hovel in Milan and Genoa, leaving Francis with only the Venetian Republic and a nervous Scotland at his side[1].
It was thus unto a European scene of imminent war that Christian II rode, when he on the 1st of July entered Brussels at the head of a magnificent procession[2]. The emperor himself had met the royal couple thirty miles outside the city, escorted by a host comprising the flower of the Flemish chivalry. Upon seeing each other, the two monarchs supposedly embraced and conversed as if they had known each other their entire lives[3].
To Elisabeth, it was the first time in six years that she had seen her native country and as such the return to Brussels and reunion with her family invigorated her tremendously. To the commoners of Brussels, the arrival of Christian and his wife was not only the case of a welcome celebration (it was the king’s 40th birthday), but also the prospect of much needed military aid. The Danish king was well known for his affection for the Low Countries, and nor had the naval forces he had dispatched a few years before during the Guelders Feud been forgotten. The reports of the Nordic king’s journey had spread through the continent like a wildfire, becoming more and more fanciful the further it got. By the time the news crossed the Alps, Pietro Vermiglio incredulously reported that Christian II had offered to raise an army of 50.000 troops to aid his brother-in-law against Francis I, whilst the commoners in Rome gossiped that the king had actually brought 16.000 troops into the Netherlands[4]. As such, the royal couple was treated to a welcome one spectator likened to “... the victorious entrance of a Roman triumphator.”
Awaiting the procession at the steps of the Coudenberg, was Margaret of Austria, the emperor and Elisabeth’s paternal aunt and imperial viceroy in the Netherlands. Although Margaret had initially been sceptical about her niece’s Nordic marriage, she proved a gracious host and warmed considerably to Christian as the affections he felt for Elisabeth soon became apparent.
Europe in June 1521. French possessions in Italy and conquests in Navarre shown in blue stripes. Milan had been occupied in 1515 and was held by Odet of Foix, Viscount of Lautrec, whilst Genoa was nominally independent, but de facto a French protectorate. Full resolution here.
However, not every strata of Brussels society was as jubilant as the commoners. Several of the emperor’s councilors were deeply worried that their young master would be dazzled by his impressive brother-in-law’s accomplishments and grant the king too far-reaching concessions. Furthermore, it was mumbled in some ecclesiastical circles that the king’s groom carried a locked chest, containing several Lutheran books and pamphlets[5]. Charles, however, did not seem to mind nor care about these rumours and when the emperor did question Christian about his great church reforms, the answer that he was merely rooting out corruption and superstition seemed to satisfy the king’s brother-in-law.
After several days of impressive feasting, Charles and Christian withdrew to Mechelen to discuss matters of state, only interrupting their parlays once news of the expulsion of the French from Navarre, following a crushing Castilian victory at the Battle of Esquiroz, arrived. It was during one these early meetings that the king convinced Charles V to grant the northernmost part of the Atlantic (divided between Spain and Portugal in the Treaty of Tordesillas of 1494) to the Danish crown as a Christening gift for his two newborn nephews Filip and Maximilian. On the fifteenth of July, they appeared side by side in inaugurating the great Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp. Throughout his journey, Christian II played the part of a great renaissance prince sending a steady stream of artists, architects and artisans by ship to Copenhagen in the order he received them in the Netherlands. Greatest, however, was the meeting the king had with Erasmus, the Prince of the Humanists, in Ghent during a dinner held by the English Cardinal Wolsey. The scholar was moderately impressed by Christian’s Latin, but deeply appreciated the king’s flattering offer of a position in the Danish capital. Although he refused, Erasmus promised the king that he would send him a list of recommendations to bolster the academic standing of Copenhagen University.
However, in between banquets and sitting for portraits, Christian and Charles held several important negotiations, têtê-a-têtê - something the emperor’s councilors lamented deeply. Charles V, on the verge as he was on yet another awesome struggle with the French and Venetians, hoped his impressive brother-in-law would send him much needed military aid and, more importantly, grant him a stay for the remaining downpayment of his sister’s dowry. Furthermore, since it was apparent that Scotland would become involved in the coming battles, given the presence of two rival claimants to the throne, the emperor hoped Danish troops based in the Atlantic could open a second front, whilst Henry VIII invaded in support of the rights of his oldest nephew, the dethroned James V.
To Christian II, this was a difficult request. Although not bankrupt per se, the royal treasury was woefully stretched after the expensive reconquest of Sweden. To embark on another logistically complicated campaign so soon after peace had finally arrived would be extremely dangerous. Another war meant more taxes and more taxes meant greater unrest throughout the North. Besides, Christian held no great love for Henry VIII, nor for Wolsey, who had proven obtuse to the point obstinacy when dealing with the king’s complaints about English fishery and piracy in the Icelandic waters. On top of that, Denmark had already acknowledged Albany’s regency and the ascension of the infant Alexander IV as King of Scots as part of the redeeming of the Orkney and Shetland isles. Nevertheless, Christian promised that as soon as he returned to Copenhagen, he would furnish a naval squadron headed by his own flagship, the Maria, which would anchor at Kirkwall so as to draw away Scottish troops to the north. As an extra show of goodwill, the king swore that if the ports of the Flemish coast were ever endangered of siege, then he would most certainly come to their rescue - a fine gesture that Charles appreciated, but it was little more than an empty promise.
Sketch of Christian II by Albrecht Dürer, made during the king’s visit to Antwerp in July 1521 as a preliminary study for a since lost painting. The 40 year old monarch is depicted as a thoughtful, almost philosophical prince, still sporting the fiery red beard Margaret of Austria had so detested upon his betrothal to Elisabeth.
When it came to the matter of the dowry, the king took a more conciliatory tone. It was apparent that all the funds Charles and his Fuggers could procure would have to be invested in the war effort and to demand a sum so considerable as 30.000 Guelders would thus be pig-headed beyond belief. In lieu of a monetary compensation, however, Christian had several other alternatives in mind. First and foremost, he informed his young brother-in-law that the archbishop of Lübeck, theoretically, had always been the feudal overlord of the Duchy of Holstein, but these rights of enfeoffment had lapsed when Charles had been elected two years before. Since the bishop had not formally asked for these rights to be renewed, Christian requested that he, as king of Denmark, should be given the honour instead[6]. To this, Charles happily agreed and on the 21st of July 1521 he affixed his seal to two imperial proclamations that would prove to be of momentous importance.
The first proclamation completely transferred the lapsed right of enfeoffment for the Holstenian dukedom to Christian, who, in effect, would not only become his own feudal overlord, but also exercise that authority over his uncle Frederick and his successor, Christian’s name-sake cousin. This was a controversial move, as the high spirited Frederick jealously guarded his honour and would surely react strongly against this shift in the feudal relation between himself and the king of Denmark. Things were not improved by the strong wording of the imperial proclamation:
“... We command you, with all our imperial gravity and power, to take the Duchy of Holstein and all of its dependent lands as a fief from our brother, the king of Denmark, and obey him in all things - lest you incur ours and the Empire’s just and terrible wrath and punishment.”[7]
One can only too well imagine what anger and dread this must have brought to the council halls of Frederick’s ducal castle. The second proclamation did nothing to improve the relations between king and duke any further. Charles, on Christian’s request, had granted him feudal overlordship of many of Frederick’s neighbouring domains: Pinneberg, Stormarn, Delmenhorst and the peasant republic of Dithmarschen were all to receive their imperial privileges through the king of Denmark. Furthermore, the Free City of Hamburg and the estuary of the Elbe were both to be subject to the feudal overlordship of Christian[8].
As an extra windfall, Charles sent a strongly worded imperial command to the burghers of Lübeck, warning them to never again conduct trade with any of Christian’s subjects that might at some point in the future rise in rebellion against their lawful sovereign[9]. As peace had finally come to the Baltic this did little to vex the Wendish Hansa, but when the imperial herald informed the mayors of the restoration of the royal Danish properties and claims within the very city of Lübeck, anger and resentment began to brew there as well. By the middle of August, clandestine letters had established a tentative connection between Lübeck and the ducal see of Gottorp. Christian II, however, oblivious to these developments, was by that time heading home towards Copenhagen - his spirits filled with high hopes for the future.
Author's Note: There you have it! An early Christmas present. I hope it was worth the wait
Footnotes:
[1]Besides Scotland sticking with Francis, all of the above is OTL.
[2]As he did in OTL, although then it was Antwerp.
[3]According to eyewitness accounts in OTL, the first meeting between Charles and Christian was exceedingly jovial and friendly.
[4]This is actually an original rumour. In OTL, once the news of Christian II’s journey reached Rome, the Curia relaxed its attitude towards the Danish king, which had been decidedly hostile after he had lopped off the heads of several Swedish bishops.
[5]Also OTL.
[6]This request is pure OTL, as is the subsequent rights Charles conferred on Christian II. In our time, the transfer of the mandate of enfeoffment to the king was one of the principal causes in Frederick I’s decision to take charge of the Jutish revolt against Christian, as was it the main cause for Lübeck to take up arms against the king.
[7]Own translation
[8]Again, this is all OTL.
[9]In OTL, this was an actual command for Lübeck to cease trade with the Swedes who had risen up in the Vasa rebellion against Christian II. IOTL, Sweden is at peace and as such the traders of Lübeck are free to conduct business as they like anyways - thereby avoiding them turning against Christian II.
"We shall undertake for the glory of God and the Christian religion’s advancement to establish between Our realm of Norway and the aforementioned land of Greenland contact and resume commerce in such a way as to improve the condition and livelihood of our dear and loyal subjects."
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Letter from Christian II to Erik Valkendorf archbishop of Trondheim July 1520[1]
On the 21st of July 1520, 10 ships, headed by the 100-gun caravel the Angel, departed Bergen harbour. Standing in the flag ship’s foredeck was Søren Norby, the king’s trusted admiral and perhaps the single most skilled sailor in Scandinavia for several generations. His impressive credentials mirrored the difficulty of his task. Although no direct contact had been undertaken with the old Norse settlements in the Arctic for almost 75 years, Greenland had never vanished from the memory of the Scandinavians. The Greenlandish episcopal see of Gardar had continuously been occupied, although its bishops had not involved themselves in spreading the gospels into the far north since the second half of the 14th century. Furthermore, The Funen deacon Claudius Clavus had produced a map in the 1420s which clearly showed Greenland as a part of the domains of the king of Denmark. It was therefore not a journey into nothingness that Norby had begun.
Making good progress across the North Sea the fleet passed the Shetland Isles after a few days at sea, progressing to the Faroe Isles without incident. Having briefly sheltered under the windswept rocks of Torshavn, Norby’s ships dropped anchor off Reykjavik on the first of August[2]. Enjoying a respite for a few weeks, Søren Norby and his captains conferred with the bishop of Hólar, Jón Arason, as well as other dignitaries and experienced sailors. All could attest to the fact that somewhere to the West, the great white isle of Greenland loomed over the icy waters of the Arctic, but, they added, this was not the only island in that direction. The fabled lands of Vinland and Markland were even further West, a fact which was attested to by Basque and English fishermen who had wintered on Iceland.
This piqued Norby’s interest. Indeed, he had already told the king that “... he would sail where ever in the world his majesty commanded him” and the prospect of adding a portion of the New World to his master’s domains appealed to his own ambition. Augmenting his crews with Icelandic sailors the admiral prepared to depart Reykjavik in late August, the course pointing directly West.
On the 25th of August the royal fleet hoisted its sails and put to sea. The lack of credible landmarks made the voyage dangerous as well as rather difficult. Two cogs were shattered by the onset of a sudden storm, which proved disastrous as they carried the greater part of the navy’s supplies.
A Carrack Before the Wind by Pieter Bruegel the Elder ca. 1540. Headed by the impressive caravel the Angel, the Danish expedition to Greenland of 1520 would advance the claims of the Oldenburg triple monarchy further west than ever before.
After three weeks at sea, Norby was about to give up hope and return to Iceland when the advance ship of his convoy, signalled that land had been sighted. For the first time in three quarters of a century a crown representative of the Nordic realms had returned to Greenland. As the fleet entered a small bay on the southernmost part of the island[3], Søren Norby ordered a force of twenty sailors and marines to debark. The crew found no trace of any inhabitants although they did manage to kill a few seals to compliment their dwindling supplies. With no timber at hand to establish an outpost and no natives to trade with or bring the gospel to, Norby made a hurried show of declaring, as one scholar put it, “... the renewed sovereignty of the king of Denmark over a beach of pebbles and curious seals.”
Returning to Iceland by the end of September, the Danes lost another ship to rough weather before reaching safe port at Reykjavik. However, the meagre results of his first journey did not deter the admiral. Deciding to winter on the island, Norby was resolved to return to Greenland and set up a staging point for further western endeavours. By late April the following year, another landing had been made and this time around a few puzzled inuit hunters were present as the king’s men waded ashore. A few longhouses were erected and the site christened as Engelsbugt (Angel’s Bay).
From Greenland, the fleet struck out West and by the middle of May the Angel’s lookout spotted the contours of a narrowing strait. As the ships passed into the sound, the sailors were supposedly intimidated by the menacing dark boreal forests shielding the interior on either side. Still, Norby took his ships into a small inlet where the fleet would be protected from wind and weather. Moving inland, the Danish and Icelandic marines reported no sight of any human presence, although all attested to feeling eerily watched by some unknown presence[4]. After a brief search, some men found remains of a campsite which most scholars now believe to have belonged to Basque fishermen. Taking this as a sign that the bay was regularly used by either natives (skrællinger as the Icelandic crew termed them) or unknown explores, Norby resolved to construct a blockhouse, named Elisabethsborg in honour of the queen, in order to defend Christian II’s claim to the island if need be. Leaving the captain of the carrack the Griffon, Otte Stigsen[5], in command of half his forces, Norby continued west through what he later named Saint John’s Strait before striking south, keeping the mountainous shoreline on his port side.
After three days of tentative sailing the Angel once more put to shore on the easternmost point of what Norby had now come to believe was the long lost isle of Vinland[6]. Dropping anchor at a natural harbour framed by pebble beaches, the Funen admiral decided to erect another blockhouse at the site. Larger than the first encampment constructed on the rugged Queensland peninsular[7], Christiansborg would become the premier Danish point of support in the New World. Sending the swiftest of his remaining vessels north to return with Stigsen and the larger part of the Elisabethsborg garrison, Norby resolved to spend Autumn and Winter on the island before sailing back to Europe. It was, however, not a popular decision. Three ships had already been destroyed and large portions of the crew were ill with scurvy. Furthermore, the Danish and Norwegian sailors had by then already been gone a year and were beginning to grumble about their prospects of return.
Map of Vinland ca. 1521. Although Nordic sovereignty over the island would remain tentative for the time being, Søren Norby’s rediscovery would be of great importance for the mercantile designs of Christian II.
However, Nordby eventually prevailed by promising his men double pay once they had returned, regaling them with tales of how the king and queen would reward the men who had finally breached the “North-West Passage to India”[8]. It proved to be a cautious choice. Strong winds and powerful storms began to sweep west from the Atlantic as August gave way to September, the sea, in the words of one of the Norwegian marines “... frothing with rage.” In the meantime smaller expeditions were undertaken. Otte Sivertsen struck out from Elisabethsborg and made a tentative foray into the dark forests on the other side of the Strait of St. John, claiming those lands in the name of the king. This Nymark (New March) territory would however be quickly abandoned, even though Norby made certain his report mentioned settlements on both sides of the strait. Whilst the Nordic sailors waited for Spring, men were sent inland exploring the peninsular Norby termed New Fionia (believing at first that he had landed on a seperate island), in honour of his native Funen. In time, this term would come to be used interchangeably with the name Vinland, especially by Anglo-Saxon historians.
Two main discoveries were made during this waiting period. First of all, a foraging party headed by one of Norby’s captains ran into a native settlement some 30 miles from the palisades of Christiansborg. At first relations between the Beothuk natives and the European explorers were marked by thinly-veiled distrust, but after Norby had shared a meal and exchanged gifts with a circle of native elders and chiefs things started to improve. Although the Beothuk soon abandoned their camp and moved further inland, further incidents of trade would continue, the natives exchanging furs for metal objects and other European goods. Secondly, Icelandic sailors returning from fishing expeditions to the south New Fionia reported that cod could be “... taken not only with nets but with fishing-baskets.”[9] As Norby would later note in a letter to Christian II, the abundance was of such a scale that he prophesied that “... if Your Grace was ever to make a mighty fortress on these long last islands, it is my belief that these natural wealths could prove to be even more bountiful than those of olden Scania.”[10]
As Spring arrived, Søren Norby prepared his fleet for the long journey home. A token force of some 30 men, primarily Icelanders and Faroese, were left behind with a cog and some gunpowder as well as other armaments. This would not be enough to maintain both blockhouses, which meant that, for the time being, Elisabethsborg would remain unoccupied. Departing Christiansborg on the 3rd of April 1522, Norby and his remaining 5 ships set sails for Denmark. The timing could not have been better, for events in Scandinavia meant that the king had urgent need of his chief admiral.
Author's Notes: With this chapter we enter waters I have navigated far less than those hitherto encountered in this timeline. Let me know what you think: the plausibility of travel times, weather conditions and colonial names are all issues I’d like some input on.
Footnotes:
[1]A slightly altered OTL quote from the 1700s when Frederick IV decided to send Hans Egede to Greenland. Erik Valkendorf was in OTL interested in renewing contact with Greenland so I think it plausible that Christian II would discuss the matter with him (especially considering that their relationship ITTL is much better at this point than in our own time).
[2]I tried to research plausible travel times, but I had to rely on sources either way younger or way older than the early 1500s. Never the less, I hope they’re not too implausible.
[3]OTL Qaqortoq
[4]As far as I gather, the Beothuk natives were for the most part not very keen on establishing contact with European explorers.
[5]One of Norby’s OTL most ardent lieutenants
[6]I considered what Norby might call OTL Newfoundland, but decided to stick with Vinland as the name is featured on e.g. the Skálholt Map from the 1570s. Other possible names are Severinia (Latin version of Noby’s first name) and, of course, New Fionia.
[7]Named after Queen Elisabeth. OTL’s Great Northern Peninsular
[8]Columbus was not the only one to be a bit geographically confused when it came to the New World.
[9]Being the quote of John Cabot’s OTL crew.
[10]Referring to the Scania Market of the late middle ages where the crown made a fortune on taxing the sale of herring.
Sleep, sleep;
Goodnight Gottorp Keep
When the meadow again turns green
Once more in Denmark you shall be seen
-
Couplet by Iver Munk, bishop of Ribe, ca. 1513
"Some gifts Your Grace gold and precious stones and some serve Your Grace in war and feud, but my treasure is no greater than what meagre ink and paper can produce, still I do so of no less love than those who risk their necks and lives for Your Grace."
Poul Helgesen’s dedication to Christian II in his translation of Erasmus’ The Education of a Christian Prince, 1522[1]
By late August, Christian II and Elisabeth were back in Copenhagen.
The king had brought a cohort of Netherlandish artists and artisans with him and these were immediately set to work in the capital’s secretariats and the royal hundreds in the Zealandic hinterlands.
As one of the conservative councillors remarked in a letter to his wife it seemed as if “... His Grace wants to completely ruin the honest merchant people of Amager Isle and replace them with Dutchmen and other ruffians.”[2] To claim the king wanted to populate his domains with farmers and merchants from the Low Countries might be to grant the conservative opposition too much credence, but there can be no doubt that a societal transformation was in the works.
The chancery immediately put the new men to the task of going over the realm’s finances, seeking out ways to maximise the profits for the king’s exchequer. Likewise, a score of Antwerpian merchants who had journeyed to Denmark at Christian II’s invitation were initiated into the charter of the steadily blossoming Nordic Trade Company. One of the main obstacles when it came to streamlining the crown’s incomes and expenses was the fact that a great deal of the fiefs were still enfeoffed on terms disadvantageous to the king. Although the state finances were steadily improving, a majority of the Jutish fiefs remained either pledged or given in service to members of the higher aristocracy; nobles who continued to question the validity of Christian’s kingship. There were, however, some exceptions. The king’s friend, Mogens Gøye, held the fief and strong castle of Skanderborg as a pledge against a massive loan, but Gøye was wholly on the side of his sovereign. Indeed, the Skanderborg castellan was unequivocal in his support of the rights of the crown vis-a-vis the council of the realm. Time and time again, Gøye had stressed the nobility’s duty to serve the king and support him in the advancement of the realm[3]. Such support would be vital if Christian was to reform the feudal society.
The Harvesters by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, 1565. The painting was originally part of a series of six different representations of peasant life, where only four other works survive; The Hunters in the Snow being the most well known example. The Danish peasantry had for centuries lived under very varied conditions, chiefly depending on which region of the realm they happened to live. To the great irritation of the aristocracy, Christian II began reforming the legislative structure of the realm - including a considerable improvement of the peasantry’s lot.
The second half of the 15th century had already seen an increased centralisation and monetisation of state finances, fuelled by need to fund the union wars with Sweden. Furthermore, the political and economic strength of the crown grew steadily towards the turn of the century, owing in large parts to an increase in the maritime trade through the Sound as well as higher tariffs from market towns. These developments had been mirrored by king Hans’ employment of burghers and men from the lower aristocracy in the fief administration. Such a trend was common in other Western European states where Charles VII of France and Henry VII of England both had relied on men of lower birth in restoring their kingdoms. The elevation of members of the lower aristocracy and burgher class continued under Christian II, in obvious conflict with the stipulations of his accession charter. However, the king, heeding the advice of Hans Mikkelsen (mayor of Malmø in Scania and a major shareholder in the trade company) as well as reform-minded nobles such as the Gøye and Bille brothers proceeded carefully, limiting burgher fief-holders to the isle of Zealand and a few inconsequential domains in Western and Northern Jutland[4].
Nevertheless, regardless of what the accession charter might stipulate, it was clear that the administration of the fiefs was one of the keys to bringing the heart of the Oldenburg triple monarchy on pair with the other emerging New Monarchies of the West.
Danish Crown Income 1522
Type of income
Percentage of income
Fief income
28,4%
Uncertain fief dues
8,5%
Rural court fines
14,2%
Urban court fines
18,4%
Urban taxes
9,2%
Scanian Market
7,1%
The Sound Due
14,2%
Total
100%
As the above figures show, the feudal system of administration constituted almost 40% of the crown’s income[5]. In order to reform the system and bring the nobility in line as loyal civil servants instead of minor lordlings with their own standing armies, Christian needed to redeem the large amount of fiefs currently held as pledges. However, this required funds which the crown’s purse did not presently have and it would certainly estrange some of the more wavering members of the aristocracy, especially in Jutland.
Already rumours of dissent were spreading from Riberhus on the ducal borders, where Predbjørn Podebusk sat as fiefholder. His wealth was in many ways compatible to that of Mogens Gøye, sometimes even surpassing that of the Skanderborg castellan. However, in his politics he differed wildly. An old-school religious conservative and a councilar constitutionalist to boot, Podebusk saw the king’s plans for reforms as a Damocles Sword hanging over the heads of both church and aristocracy. A shrewd and ambitious man, he had spent the past years cultivating a political alliance with other councillors, Iver Munk, bishop of Ribe and Niels Stygge Rosenkrantz, bishop of Børglum being the most prominent. All three had been members of the shadowy cabale which had tried to convince Frederick, the king’s uncle, to take the throne instead of Christian not ten year previous.
The administrative division of Denmark and the duchies of Schleswig and Holstein in 1522. For an explanation of the difference in fief types see chapter 1[6].
In Gottorp, the hitherto cautious Frederick Oldenburg was beginning to move. Ever since his elder brother had tried to force him into the church in the 1470s, Frederick had been prickish about his honour and station. In 1482, supported by the formidable dowager queen Dorothea of Brandenburg, he had succeeded in seeing the rulership of the duchies of Schleswig and Holstein divided between himself and king Hans. Although the ducal (Gottorpian) and royal (Segebergian) parts were in theory united in feudal allegiance to the king of Denmark, the powerful equestrian nobility of the duchies favoured Frederick by far. Furthermore, the duke of Gottorp continued to advance claims on the Norwegian throne, styling himself “... rightly chosen heir to Norway.”[7]
With Christian II’s new understanding with the emperor and the subsequent transfer of enfeoffment rights to the king of Denmark, Frederick’s position was swiftly deteriorating. Considering the duke's particular sense of justice, it was certain that his nephew’s newfound authority would not go unchallenged. By Michaelmas 1521, the king had summoned his uncle to Copenhagen to discuss the new situation in the duchies, but Frederick refused, feigning illness. However, the king ignored the slight, comparing his uncle to “... an old hen who did not like to leave the comfort of his cozy nest.”[8] Soon, administrative and legal reforms took precedent to solving the Holsteinian issue.
Since time immemorial Denmark had been governed under three separate regional laws: one for Scania, one for Jutland and one for Zealand and the lesser isles. With one stroke Christian and his lawyers at the Copenhagen colleges welded these three into one quintessential body of legislation - the Rigslov, the Law of the Realm[9]. Published on the Day of the Epiphany, the 6th of January 1522, the law was a masterful combination of renaissance humanism and crown centralisation - creating a unified and streamlined legal practice that greatly enhanced the power of the sovereign. A new civil service, completely beholden to the king was created, the office of a so-called skultus[10] being created. The skultus would take on the role of police, criminal prosecutor and arbitrator in all matters within the market towns. The bonds between the crown and the burghers were thus strengthened considerably. Furthermore, the law made sharp provisions for the education of peasant children just as it forbade the worst kinds of noble abuse vis-a-vis the peasantry. One paragraph distinctively outlawed the practice of villenaige on Zealand terming it:
“... an unchristian practice which is present on Zealand, Falster, Laaland and Møen, where poor peasants and Christian people have been sold and awarded to others like common cattle, shall after this day never be permitted to happen again, and if their lord and master treats them unjustly and inflict upon them wrongful grievances, then they shall be permitted to move to another [nobleman's] estate, such as peasants do in Scania, Funen and Jutland."[11]
Although the nobility of Zealand remained the most pliable in the realm, and as such did little to protest the king’s new laws, the distinctly anti-aristocratic corpus of legislation caused a considerable stir within the nobility. Indeed, the aristocratic estate in Denmark was more akin to a close-knit caste, consisting approximately 2 permille of the total population. However, social mobility within the estate remained dynamic on account of the continuous split and reassembly of landed properties through marriage. As such a nobleman might easily find new lands in a part of the realm different from where he grew up.
Combined with the Great Reces of 1520, the Law of the Realm had succeeded in creating, as one scholar noted, “... a reactionary axis around which the crown’s enemies could rally.” Furthermore, the royal appointment of Christiern Pedersen to the episcopal see of Lund had been a blatant violation of the king’s accession charter, which also incurred the ire of the councilar constitutionalists. A sentiment only made stronger by the 1519 Christmas coup in Stockholm. As such, whilst the king pored over legal books, his uncle Frederik had amble threads to spin a web of discontent between Gottorp, Jutland and Lübeck.
Frederick I Co-duke of Schleswig and Holstein, painted by the German artist Jacob Binck ca. 1520. A cautious political operator, the duke had enjoyed the complete support of his extremely skilled mother Dorothea. A fact which no doubt explains the sophistication of the web of plots he spun around his nephew from the ducal court in Gottorp.
The hegemon of the Wendish Hansa had been no less alarmed than the duke of Gottorp by Christian’s newfound rights of enfeoffment. Already the German kontors were struggling with increased competition from Dutch traders. If the Nordic realms succeeded in establishing their own mercantile company, backed by the arms of the Oldenburg monarchy, then Lübeck’s preeminence in the Baltic would soon wither away. Something would have to be done. Luckily for the Hansa, the timing could not have been more perfect. Only if the king’s campaign in Sweden had ended in disaster would the soil have been more fertile for domestic turmoil.
By way of the Gottorpian chancellor, Wolfgang Uttenhof, a number of carefully concealed and encrypted letters were exchanged between the Hanseatic mayors and duke Frederick. Money was raised, ostensibly for the refurbishment of the Wendish trading cogs. For some unknown reason, the fields outside the Holstentor soon became awash with encamped Landsknechts. This was a time of secrecy, hooded cloaks and mumbled commands in dark rooms. Contact was also established with Bogislaw X duke of Pomerania, whose daughter Frederick had taken for his second wife in 1514. Finally, Henry, duke of Braunschweig-Lüneburg, no friend to the king of Denmark, was drawn into the web[12].
However, the Frederickian cause could not rest solely on the duke’s wounded pride. If he were to defend his usurpation, and there can be no doubt that this was the end-goal of the duke’s ambitions, Frederick needed constitutional legitimacy. Enter the bishop of Ribe’s brother, Mogens Munk[13]. Munk was a legal man, secunded to the supreme regional court of Jutland with a knack for brokering hard deals and consoling estranged parties. His position allowed him to travel freely, which he did often. Mostly to visit his brother in Ribe, where he coincidentally would also pay his respects to Predbjørn Podebusk. Slowly but steadily the conspirators gathered support amongst the lower Jutish nobility, charging the king with tyranny, corruption and the imposition on the realm of foreign practices. Their secret weapon was to be the ius resistendi embedded in the royal accession charter.
Shortly before Easter 1522, Christian had resolved to bring his uncle to heel. A second command went forth, summoning the duke to a meeting in Kolding, closer to the border between Schleswig and the Danish realm and once again, Frederick made excuses. When the king learned of his uncle’s intransigence, he reportedly flew into a rage, loudly declaring that before long his hounds would “... bay outside the walls of Gottorp!”[14] In other words: he would not ask nicely a third time. Instead, he would personally go to the ducal court and force his uncle to accept the new order in the duchies. When word of the king’s outburst reached Gottorp, the ever careful Frederick resolved to act.
He would not let his nephew humiliate him like his brother had.
Author's Note: So another update. Things are moving ahead and we’re starting to see how the great reforms of Christian II have created a united oppositional front between some rather formidable foes.
Also, if you haven’t voted already in the 2019 Turtledoves, why not consider dropping by give To be a Fox and a Lion a vote (or any of the other great timelines for that matter)?
Footnotes
[1]Both quotes are OTL
[2]Quote from a 1522 OTL petition by the council of the realm to halt the Dutch immigration
[3]This is all OTL. Mogens Gøye, although he was the richest nobleman in the realm, was surprisingly progressive in his politics.
[4]In OTL, Christian II was very determined in placing burghers on important fiefs as well as castles. Although Sigbrit isn’t around to influence the king as much as in OTL, I think Christian would still promote men of lower birth, albeit at a somewhat ‘controlled’ scale.
[5]These are OTL figures from 1524 - a time where Denmark had been through many calamities avoided ITTL. However, the figures does give a credible glimpse at what the royal incomes in the 1520s could have looked like for Christian II.
[6]This map is, if I should say so myself, rather unique. I know of no other map showing these administrative subdivisions. As it’s based on a wide variety of sources there might be some mistakes in the naming of the hundreds Schleswig, but otherwise it’s an accurate representation of the situation in OTL’s 1523 on the eve of Christian II’s flight. Changes are: The fiefs of Aalborghus, Krogen and Copenhagen were all under burgher fief-holders in OTL. These have been replaced ITTL by nobles of either lower birth or close friends of the king. An example is Eske Bille, who, in this timeline, remains in charge of Copenhagen Castle, another is Krogen, where Torben Oxe holds court. If one wanted to be completely true to the butterfly effect, some hundreds would have been amalgamated into completely different fiefs, but researching such developments would have taken a huge amount of time.
[7]All of this is OTL
[8]This being the characterisation of king Frederick given by the 17th century historian Arild Huitfeldt.
[9]The land- og bylov (law of the land and the city) of OTL. The naming of the legal reforms in our time is a later invention as the laws were ritually burned by the rebels in 1523 and thus never came into effect. ITTL, this does not come to pass and as such, I’ve chosen the official term Rigslov: Law of the Realm.
[10]From the Dutch word Schout. Just another example of how Dutchophile Christian II was.
[11]Own translation
[12]Both dukes were the only regional allies of Frederick I during much of his OTL reign.
[13]The grey eminence behind the coalition which led the OTL rebellion. Nasty fellow.
[14]A quote OTL attributed to the king after his conquest of Stockholm. In reality, it’s more probable that it’s a later invention of anti-Christian chroniclers to justify Frederick’s rebellion as a form of self-defense.
The pennant in the foremast snapped vigorously in the wind. Peder Skram’s eyes followed the gilded lettering streaming from the canton, a square halved in deep blue and crimson, with a silver bar crossing the former.
“What does it say?”
Olav, the crossbowman assigned to him, climbed the steps to the forecastle, his tousled hair peeking out from under a woollen cap.
“Agni dei, miserere mei.” he answered. “It’s Latin.”[1]
“God’s teeth, I bloody well knew that.” Despite his casual blasphemy, the Vestfold man had a peaceful look upon his face. Under them the Maria seesawed steadily across the choppy waters of the Sound, the great hulls of the royal fleet following in their wake.
“But, begging the young sir’s pardon, what does it mean. Only, me and some of the lads were wondering.”
You mean you were thinking of taking bets, he thought to himself. Life at sea could be dreadfully dull after all. Not that he minded. Better to die of boredom than from an unseen bolt fired by some half-savage Tiveden forrester.
“It means, Lamb of God, look kindly upon me. It’s a message of piety, Olav Haraldsson.”
The Norwegian snorted and spat a lump of phlegm over the railing. “Aye, he inspires right piety in his neighbour, our admiral does.”
Peder raised an eyebrow. The Admiral in the Eastern Sea[2] was not known to be overtly religious. He took his mass, but he was no eager deacon-kisser or candle-lighter. However, neither was he beholden to the evangelical cause, as some of the other men of quality. In all things, he kept his own counsel save for that of Christian, the king, and if he did pray, it was for the wind to fill his sails.
Seeing his disbelief, Olav grinned widely, revealing a row of crooked teeth. “You see, sir, whenever the Victuals[3] face our banners they pray as if it were Easter.”
He laughed and thumped the Norwegian on the back of his padded doublet. The sun was shining and whitecaps crowned the ember green waves. In a day or two they would drop anchor off Travemünde and then the Wends would truly have reason to pray.
The sailor’s life was not so bad after all.
***
Dawn broke as the fleet passed the westernmost cliffs of Møn. Not long after, they had the larger isles of Lolland and Falster on their starboard side. By noon they saw the fires. Large, fat columns of smoke rising lazily from charred farmsteads along the coast. Peder noticed Olav steadying himself on the railing.
“Jesus Maria,” he heard the crossbowman mutter, “I guess we’re at war then.” The admiral seemed to agree. Within a minute the call to quarters issued forth from the stern. In the topmast, the battle standard, a heavy woollen flag with a white cross flashing on a background dyed blood-red, went up.
One by one, the lumbering carracks moved to the front of the squadron; the Angel on their port, the rest forming a steady line anchored close to the shore - their forecastles and battle-decks awash with marines and gunners.
No more than an hour had passed before the look-out’s sharp cry called “sails ahoy!”
A dozen heavy warships were desperately trying to arrange themselves against them. Squinting his eyes, he could just make out the crimson striped banners, hemming in the double-headed eagle of the imperial cities on a yellow field.
As he made his way from the forecastle, Olav trailed after him; the Norwegian’s quiver of bolts bumping against his padded hoses. They found admiral Norby at the quarter deck, a score of captains around him. He inclined his head politely as they approached.
“Sir Skram. Is the enemy afloat?” He could feel the bile creeping up his throat, but drowned it by a deep breath, before answering. “My lord admiral, they are indeed. A dozen warships, headed by four carracks. Plenty of pirates and plenty of guns.” The wind pulled gently at his master’s thick beard, streamed in silver. He signalled to an orderly, who smartly handed him his sword belt. As he secured it around his waist, he smiled grimly at the young knight.
“Then let’s annihilate them” he said, before adding, to a breast-plated captain with a bald pate and an enormous, fiery moustache, “My good sir Brahe, volley until we board. No quarter.”
“Volley until we board. No quarter,” came the reply.
***
He had barely made it back to the forecastle before the Maria shuttered violently from the first broadside. Smoke blossomed from the attacking line, hovering over the waters like a heavy charcoal mist of saltpeter and sulphur. The Hansa carracks and cogs responded in kind, but their barrage fell short and great cascades of water erupted from where their cannon balls struck the water surface.
We have the wind, he sighed thankfully.
A second great shutter; like an earthquake from the depths, accompanied by a rolling thunder heralded the second volley of the royal fleet. Peder drew his longsword and dirk. His breastplate and greaves tightly leashed across his chest and thighs. He had tasted battle before, but this - this was different. As the enemy ships came nearer and nearer, he thought: At least there will be no destriers with guts spilling over me this time[4].
The shattering groan of impact rivalled the thunderous roar of the guns. Olav and the other Vestfold crossbowmen hollered in their sing-song voices as they unleashed a wave of bolts on the enemy deck. Picking up a cry of “Christ alone!” Peder launched himself over the railing.
It was pure armageddon. Splinters of wood flew everywhere, musket balls and arrows sang as they passed overhead. Rigging and sails were tattered beyond recognition. A yard fell from the sky, crushing two men who had been hacking away at each other. As he tried to make sense of it all, a burly man in a yellow doublet came at him, swinging a falchion like a butcher’s cleaver. He parried with a sword-stroke and drove the dirk into the man’s exposed rib cage, twisting the blade as it entered. The marine collapsed on the planks and Peder looked around for his next opponent.
He soon lost himself in the fight. A sailor tried to stab him with a dagger, so he cut off his hand and left him howling on the blood-slippery deck. Another managed to slid a broadsword over his breastplate before the young knight hammered a gauntleted fist through the man’s teeth. They had rammed the last ship on the enemy’s extreme port flank. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Angel slid past them, cutting behind the Hanseatic battle line. Her gunports wide open, unleashing a merciless scourge on the enemy’s exposed rear.
It did not take long after she had gotten behind them before the Lübeckians lost the will to fight. Only three cogs, however, managed to disentangle themselves from the encirclement. The remainder of the enemy vessels were either taken or so thoroughly battered that they would sink within the hour. Exhausted as he had never been before, Peder sat dawn on a barrel, resting his arms on the cross-guard of his sword.
Across the deck he saw Olav pulling a gold tooth from the ruined mouth of a dead sailor.
When the Norwegian caught his eye, he smiled and waved.
***
It was very late in the afternoon before they had tallied the butcher’s bill. Two carracks had been taken without too much damage and would join the fleet. The two others were in the process of sinking. The five remaining enemy vessels, a collection of refurbished cogs and trade ships, were all in a sorry state, most of their crews dead or wounded. Without much ceremony, the admiral ordered them to be burned.
Next up came the captives. Norby was seated on a crate, his Frisian brother-in-law and captain of the Angel, Tile Giseler, by his side. Peder stood a little back, unable to discern what the Hanseatic seamen told the admiral. Apparently, it wasn’t pleasant.
“Skram!” the admiral’s voice cracked like a whip through the dusk. Quickly, he made his way through the throng of soldiers and marines, to hover next to the aging sea dog.
“Sir.”
“Dear me. You look like Lazarus. Have you been wounded?” He shook his head in response, too tired to explain. The admiral, apparently satisfied, continued matter of factly: “These men bring us some disturbing news. They claim the king’s uncle has crossed into Jutland with a sizeable host and taken many castles with the help of some of His Grace’s wayward Jutish councillors. His Grace himself is either captured or fled,” he looked thoughtfully at the captives. “They can’t seem to agree.”
Captured or fled. That could mean anything. And everything.
“You will command one of the taken ships, return it to the capital and relay what has happened here. We, in turn, will immediately steer towards the Funen belt and secure the crossing where you will rejoin us with whatever strength you can gather. Do you understand your, commission, sir?”
He nodded.
“Good.” The admiral rose wearily, dusting off his hoses with crumbled gloves. Awkwardly, Giseler leaned in, placing a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder.
“What of the prisoners?” he asked quietly in a hacking Frisian accent.
“Oh. Right.” The admiral paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.
“Hang the officers. Throw the others over the railing. Burn the ships.”
A pious man indeed, our Admiral, thought Peder Skram.
Author's Notes: I had originally planned for this chapter to be smaller and more of an intermission kind of post. However, I couldn’t stop writing when I first got into it. Apparently, I’ve missed doing narrative updates. I hope you enjoyed it and won’t mind the break in styles.
The Danish navy of OTL was of a size and quality that it could easily measure itself with the combined might of the Wendish and Danzig Hansa towns. However, in OTL, the long and expensive wars in Sweden had resulted in the land forces being given priority and the navy as a result became rather mothballed. ITTL, the situation is quite different.
Also, today marks one year since I started this timeline. A big thank you is owed to all those who’ve replied with encouragement and kind suggestions. It’s really appreciated!
[1]These were the words Søren Norby put on the coins he minted on Gotland in OTL when he held the isle in Christian II’s name after the king had been exiled. The canton on the flag is his family coat of arms.
[2]One of the titles of the Danish supreme admiral. Eastern Sea simply means Baltic. Another was “Supreme centurion and chief of all captains” which to be honest, sounds a bit like an album by Sabatton.
[3]A band of German pirates who as late as the 1440s infested the Baltic. Olav uses it as a catch-all for Hanseatic privateers.
[4]If you’ll recall, Peder Skram earned his knighthood in 1519 when he saved the king’s standard bearer at the Battle of Örebro by ramming his glaive into the Lord Steward’s destrier.
On the 14th of May 1522, the Day of Saint Matthew the Apostle, Christian II took mass at the Franciscan convent in Odense. He had brought with him the flower of the Zealandic and Scanian knighthood: a hundred armed and armoured riders, headed by sirs Henrik Gøye and Mogens Gyldenstjerne. As the king knelt in the quire, observers noted how his auburn brow was knitted in obvious concentration. Troubling news had been crossing the Little Belt in shorthand despatches ever since the royal party came over from the capital. Some said peasants were rising against the king’s sheriffs and tax officials whilst others, conversely, claimed that the Jutish countryside was wholly at peace. We know for a fact that the king was aware that some sort of unrest was fermenting on the peninsula. In a letter to queen Elisabeth dated the previous day, Christian II wrote:
“Wiider kiere frwe, at wore raadt oc gode mend oc en stoor deell aff almwgen vtj Nöriutland haffuer saat seg vp emodt oss oc giort en stor forsamblinge oc wilde slaget met oss oc wore folck…”
“Know, dear madam, that Our council and nobles and a great part of the commoners in Northern Jutland have risen against us and made a great assembly and means to fight Us and our men…”[1]
Nevertheless, the king must have felt confident that he could bring the dissatisfied councillors back into the fold. His convictions were strengthened by the arrival of a letter written in his uncle’s very own hand, informing him that the duke was heading north to meet him at Koldinghus on the ducal border. There they could solve the Gottorpian Gordian Knot amicably. Christian II was supposedly rather pleased that Frederick had finally left his cozy nest, which he mistook for a desperate attempt to placate him. As such, he resolved to cross over to Jutland and meet his estranged uncle and receive his subordination.
Nothing, however, could have been further from the truth. The duke was indeed coming north, but his cause was revenge, not reconciliation. Neither was he travelling alone.
Frederick had raised a considerable host of between two and three thousand Frisian levies from the Western marches of Holstein, a force augmented by several companies of noble Holstenian cavalry as well as one thousand Landsknechts and 300 armoured Reiters. However, the urgency of the conspiracy had trumped the need for secrecy. The ducal party was desperate to finance the coming feud with the king, but had to minimize the loans obtained at the famed Kieler Umschlag[2] in order not to draw the attention of Christian’s agents in the duchies. As such, the mercenary core of Frederick’s army was considerably smaller than what he theoretically might have been able to put in the field[3].
The ducal army was headed by the daring cavalry commander Johan Rantzau, who had won fame and fortune during the king’s Swedish campaign three years before whilst the hired troops were commanded by the Lower Saxon condottieri captains Segebode Freytagk, Christoffer von Veltheim and Johann, the Count of Hoya[4]. As soon as news of Christian’s crossing from Zealand to Funen reached Gottorp, Frederick marshalled his troops. On the 12th of May mounted messengers darted forth to order the equestrian nobility of the duchies to rally to the ducal cause. In Holstein, every single castle and city answered Frederick’s call, save for the royal stronghold of Segeberg and the market town of Oldesloe where, a combined force of Lübeck-financed mercenaries and Holstenian knights seized the castle and town by force. An ill-prepared sea-borne attack on the isle of Fehmern was repelled, but the Hanseatic fleet effectively quarantined the island, preventing any news of the duke’s movements from reaching the king on Funen.
At the same time, the 51 year old Frederick led his main host North from Gottorp. As in Holstein, the most important cities and castles of Schleswig opened their gates to him: only the citizens of Flensborg succeeded in repulsing the Holstenian troops[5]. Thus, when Christian took mass in Odense, his uncle had already seized most of the duchies for himself and proceeded to link arms with a small force of Jutish knights at Tørning castle. Undeterred, the king landed in Jutland with his one hundred man strong entourage on Friday the 16th of May, determined to meet his uncle at Koldinghus and woefully unaware of the general rising, which by now was in effect throughout the peninsula.
A skirmish between cavalry during the Frederickian Feud. Engraving from the Oldenburgische Chronicon by an unknown artist, ca. 1563-99.
Word of the king’s decision to confront his uncle must have reached the councilar opposition gathered in Viborg sometime during the very first days of May. Having met around Easter, ostensibly in order to prepare for the anticipated conference between Christian and the duke, the Jutish council now sprung into action. Their undisputed primus inter pares and leader of the Council of Denmark’s Realm in Jutland Declared, as the rebel party termed itself[6] was Predbjørn Podebusk of Riberhus. He was seconded by the three ecclesiastical members of the council of the realm; Jørgen Friis, Iver Munk and Niels Stygge Rosenkrantz - bishops of Viborg, Ribe and Børglum respectively. Other important members of the conservative cabale were Niels Høg, fief-holder at Skivehus, and the wealthy Jutish noblemen Peder Lykke and Tyge Krabbe[7].
During the Sunday sermon of May 11th Jørgen Friis openly preached on the merits of the Lords Declarent. In his speech, the bishop of Viborg denounced the king as a heretic who had wantonly overstepped the constitutional restraints of his accession charter and as such, proven himself to be “... a manifest tyrant” whose governance it was every true Danishman’s duty to drive from the realm.
Afterwards, copies of the king’s secular and ecclesiastical laws were ceremoniously burned outside the cathedral, symbolically signalling the Jutish aristocracy’s declaration of an official feud against Christian II. Constitutionally speaking, the Jutish councilors had invoked the infamous ius resistendi and their law-given right to depose the king. In his place, they themselves were to act as the temporary head of the body politic. It has been argued that even though the Jutish revolt on the whole was characterised as a reactionary reply to royal reform, it contained a revolutionary element, given how the councilar role in government was drastically reinforced. Indeed when one considers the proclamation of rebellion, it almost seems as if the conspirators dreamed of establishing a noble republic, as the initial phrasing shows:
“Thus in the name of the Holy Trinity we have united and made common cause in the defense of our honour, lives, necks and estates and have, with our own hands, signed this our declaration in order to protect and defend against, and verily never to suffer that such a man[8]should live in Denmark, Sweden and Norway [...] in this we shall utilize the highborn prince sir Frederick, by the grace of God duke etc., our noble master, who is born of true Danish blood and acts like a true Christian prince towards God and man alike [...]”[9]
Whether not Frederick was willing to let himself be “utilized” by the Jutish opposition seemingly never crossed the minds of the conspirators. Furthermore, even though the Viborg Declaration framed the councilor’s feud against Christian II as grounded in a united aristocratic front, the Danish nobility was hardly a political monolith. Indeed, some members of the lesser aristocracy voiced hopes that their demands could be met through some kind of negotiation, the “education of the sovereign” alluded to in the accession charter. When these suggestions were put to the leaders of the rebel party, sir Podebusk exploded in anger, declaring that he and the bishops “... would rather die in a single day or call in Frenchmen, Poles, Russians, Prussians, Muscovites or Turks to rule over them.”[10] In other words, there could be no talk of compromise. The dice had been cast.
Once the Viborg declaration had been presented, rebel forces swept out from their staging points in Western Jutland. Eiler Bryske, the fief-holder at Lundenæs, was driven from his castle when a strong host of levied peasants under the command of Tyge Krabbe threatened to storm it and slaughter its defenders. When he arrived at Bygholm castle, he swiftly sent messengers to Funen as well as south to Koldinghus, carrying word of the insurrection and urged the king to retaliate with all his might, going so far as to even encourage the king to “... burn down every single city and town beholden to rebellion.”[11]
The king, however, was in no position to burn anything to the ground. On the 16th of May he and his party landed at Hønbog castle and headed towards Koldinghus. The following day, just short of the city of Kolding, they were set upon by Frederick’s van of German mercenary cavalry. After some initial confusion, the Holstenian riders launched themselves on the king’s small force. Christian II was himself badly wounded in the melee whilst more than a score of his best knights were cut down trying to defend him. Henrik Gøye was unhorsed during the skirmish and subsequently captured by the ducal troops. Accompanied by a bloodied Mogens Gyldenstjerne and no more than 50 retainers, the king fled back towards Hønborg whilst his uncle’s men withdrew to cut off the city.
Oluf Nielsen Rosenkrantz, the fief-holder at Koldinghus, initially resolved to withstand the enemy, but the arrival of the Gottorpian main force the following day drastically reduced his will to resist. After a few days of fruitless negotiations, Frederick threatened Rosenkrantz that if he persisted in “... delaying them, then they will burn my farms and take all the estates I have in the realm…”[12] and ordered him to surrender or face the prospect of having the fortress taken by storm. Seeing that the castle under no circumstances could withstand the enemy, Rosenkrantz resolved to heed the duke’s command. In a letter to the king, the castellan lamented his predicament and officially repudiated his oath of loyalty to Christian in favour of his uncle. However, he also stressed that he only did so out of fear of what the duke’s men might do to him and his servants, kindly attaching Frederick’s proclamation. Unsurprisingly, no account of how Christian II received these news survives.
The opening stages of the Frederickian Feud, also known as the Duke’s Feud. May 1522.
As the king licked his wounds at Hønborg, reports began to trickle in from the Northernmost parts of Jutland. In Aalborg, a caretaker administration headed by Henrik Gøye’s chancery had been driven from the city when a host of levies led by the bishop of Børglum’s lieutenants descended from Vendsyssel[13]. The rebels subsequently marched South through Aalborghus fief before splitting into two separate corps. One advanced East, seizing the Himmerland hundreds belonging to the bishop of Aarhus[14] (who had remained loyal to Christian II) whilst the second linked arms with the main councilar army at Viborg. The only good news to come South was the fact that the strong fortresses in Eastern Jutland: Tordrup, Skanderborg and Bygholm all remained faithful. Mogens Gyldenstjerne, who held the latter as a pledge-fief, immediately petitioned the king to go North in order to raise the commoners and the local rostjeneste in his defence.
After some deliberation, Christian II gave his consent and on the 19th, Gyldenstjerne subsequently crossed the Vejle Fjord in a small boat. The castles of Tordrup and Skanderborg, which guarded the approaches to the episcopal see of Aarhus, were held by the king’s friend Mogens Gøye. When news of the duke’s invasion, the rebellion of the Jutish council and the capture of his younger brother reached Gøye at Skanderborg, he immediately called up his peasants and roused them to defend their sovereign[15].
This proved to be a prudent move as on the 23rd of May, a 2000 man strong army of peasant levies crossed the shallow Hansted Creek and entered the hundred of Nim. Commanded by Tyge Krabbe, who had brought along a retinue of mounted knights from his seat of Bustrup near Viborg, the North Jutish levies were soon encamped outside Bygholm, with Krabbe loudly calling for its surrender.
At Skanderborg, Gøye had been alerted of the rebel advance two days previous prompting him to quickly organise a relief force consisting of some 1500 peasants augmented by a small squadron of armoured retainers sent to him by the bishop of Aarhus. The following day Gøye marched his division South, catching the rebels unaware.
At the brink of dawn on the 25th, the royalist cavalry squadron crashed through the rebel picket lines and began to torch the makeshift bivouacs and tents, sending a large part of Tyge Krabbe’s untrained (and rather unenthusiastic) peasant soldiers fleeing for their lives. Their commander was, however, a seasoned veteran of the Union Wars in Sweden and quickly restored order to his ranks by leading a counter charge on the episcopal riders.
Armed Peasants Fighting Naked Men by Hans Lützelburger, 1522. Although both sides of the civil war mustered armies of conscripted peasants, it was widely accepted that the key to military success was the employment of mercenaries.
As soon as the Bygholm garrison became aware of the ongoing battle, Mogens Gyldenstjerne led a sortie, forcing the councilar army to retreat. However, when the two loyalist commanders shook hands on the field, they soon realised the miniscule nature of the battle. No more than a hundred men had lost their lives in the skirmish and not even that many had been captured or wounded. Indeed, it was no Bosworth or Brunkeberg. Instead, the first pitched battle of the civil war more resembled a large harvest-day brawl between confused and ill-equipped villagers. However, despite its small scale, the relief of Bygholm had been a sorely needed victory for the royalist cause as it temporarily took off some the pressure on Eastern Jutland. Still, the Northern approaches remained exposed to rebel attacks.
Tordrup castle had been besieged by a force under the command of Peder Lykke (or “that happy swine” as Christian II named him) whilst sir Podebusk’s own retainers had struck out from his fief of Rugsø and seized the important market town of Randers as well as much of Northern Djursland, threatening the strategically vital Kaløhus. Erik Eriksen Banner, the castellan at Kaløhus, had been at Skanderborg when news of the rising arrived from Viborg and had as such also participated in Gøye’s attack on Krabbe’s division. After a brief war council, Banner took a small force consisting of the most well armed levies and all the episcopal riders with him North in order to defend his fief. His resolve was evident, for as he wrote the king: “... My dearest gracious lord, if Your Grace has any command or dispatch for me, then Your Grace can always depend on finding me on Kalø.”[16]
For his part, the king had remained in Hønborg, fervently trying to make sense of the confused situation. If the rebels had solely relied on conscripted peasants then the king might have been able to quell the uprising from his castles in Eastern Jutland. Unfortunately, the invasion of the ducal army had rendered the loyalist cause on the peninsula extremely fragile. The king knew full well the value and importance of the Landsknecht companies from his own Swedish campaign and had no illusion as to how long his castellans could withstand the assault of these professional soldiers. Almost all of the king’s own mercenaries had been demobilised after the capture of Stockholm: only a single Fähnlein[17] remained in Sweden and its presence was vital for the survival of Henrik Krummedige’s viceregal government.
In order to put down the rebellion, Christian II thus needed fresh mercenaries of his own. However, the cities of Hamburg and Stade and the counties of Pinneberg and Lauenburg had all resolved to bar any mercenaries from crossing the Elbe who were not in the pay of the duke. Furthermore, before such a muster could even be completed, the Gottorpian main force would most likely had moved against Hønborg and the remaining royalist castles in Jutland. As such, the only course open to the king was to withdraw across the Little Belt to the safety of the isles. When Erik Krummedige, the fief-holder at Hønborg suggested this to Christian II, he supposedly wept before fiercely declaring that “... as soon as the wind gave in he would do so.”[18]
However, the king would not have to wait for the wind to give in nor would he have to sneak back across the Little Belt in a smuggler’s vessel.
Søren Norby had arrived at Copenhagen with the remnants of his battered expedition to the New World on the 24th of April. Less than a month later, he commanded the entire royal fleet as it sailed forth from the Copenhagen dockyards. Unaware of the Jutish rising fermenting on the peninsula, he had been tasked with mounting a show of force in the Fehmern Belt and thereby dissuade the Wendish Hansa from intervening in the king’s showdown with his uncle. However, on the 20th of May the fleet chanced upon a Hanseatic raiding party, headed by a handful of Lübeckian carracks and supported by auxiliary vessels from the cities of Rostock and Wismar. In a brilliantly executed interception almost the entire Wendish squadron was destroyed or captured. Faced with the realization that the realm was at war, Norby spirited on, aiming to safeguard the crossing between Jutland and Funen.
A Danish and a Hanseatic vessel exchange fire somewhere in the Baltic (the latter flying the three crowns of Sweden as a mark of provocation). From a manuscript on artillery by Rudolf van Deventer, ca. 1582[19].
Two days after the battle, the royal fleet dropped anchor in the narrow strait between the castles of Hønborg and Hindsgavl. If the Admiral in the Eastern Sea was shocked to see his liege lord still nursing the wounds from the skirmish outside Koldinghus, the news of the councilar rebellion and the duke’s treachery positively infuriated him. Aboard the Maria, Christian II contemplated sailing the fleet South to launch a surprise attack on Lübeck itself, a notion sharply protested by his naval captains. The fortifications of Travemünde could not be easily bypassed and heavy casualties would have to be expected. Furthermore, if the navy were not present, the duke might very well attempt to seize Funen and the island’s many important castles. Although he had received the news of Gøye, Morgenstjerne and Banner’s continued fidelity with good cheer, the king was naturally suspicious of just where the rest of his fief-holders’ loyalty truly lay.
No matter how fortuitous Norby’s arrival in the Little Belt had been it did not change the military realities on the Jutish peninsula. The initiative was wholly in the hands of the duke and his mercenary army. For now, the royal navy commanded the crossing to Funen, but if the enemy were to attempt to force the straits in unison, it was by no means certain that they could be repelled. There was only one option left: Retreat and regroup. Resolving to rally the loyalist forces of the Sound Provinces, the king made preparations to leave Hønborg. In his place, Mogens Gøye was appointed stadtholder in Northern Jutland (or “Sir King in Jutland”[20] as the rebels derisively called him) with strict orders to defend the remaining castles for as long as possible.
On the 23rd of May 1522, Christian II commanded the fleet to head for Zealand. In the less than a fortnight which had passed since he took mass at the Franciscan Convent in Odense he had de facto lost almost half of his kingdom. In a letter to his wife on Funen, dated the following day, Tile Giseler noted that “... His Grace’s auburn crown has in places been streamed in silver.” Everything now depended on what course of action Frederick would take.
Author's Notes: So this was a very difficult chapter to write as there were a lot of dates and a lot of characters involved. If there’s interest, I might make another intermission including a Dramatis Personae and an overview of main events incurred in the timeline so far. Let me know your thoughts.
Footnotes:
[1]From an OTL letter dated the 23rd of January 1523.
[2]The Kieler Umschlag (Kiel Exchange) was the most important market for money lending in Northern Germany and Scandinavia in the 15th and 16th centuries. It was convened annually on the 6th of January and lasted a week. In OTL, Frederick chose to participate in the conspiracy against Christian II very shortly after the Umschlag of 1523 and as such did not need to move too quietly. ITTL, however, he does not have that advantage, limiting his ability to procure funds considerably.
[3]The size of the ducal army in OTL is still rather uncertain. Some contemporary sources say the duke had 3000 peasants in his army whilst some Jutish accounts put the number slightly higher. It is, however, important to note that according to the military doctrine of the time, such levies were not considered worth much. The hired troops were the armoured fist of any army - the equivalent of modern tanks, if you will.
[4]All three were important mercenary captains during Frederick’s OTL conquest of Denmark.
[5]This also happened in OTL. The mayors of Flensburg sent a heartfelt plea for assistance to the king, promising that they would hold out for as long as possible against his uncle’s troops.
[6]The OTL designation used by the councilar opposition in their propaganda pamphlets and official declarations. The Danish phrasing is as follows: “Danmarckis riigis raad wtij lutland besiddindis”
[7]All were signatories of the historical “conspiracy letter” wherein the signatories pledged to depose Christian II.
[8]Meaning Christian II.
[9]My own translation and transcription of a part of the mentioned “conspiracy letter.” Once again, please note how the letter uses the word “utilize” when describing the relation between the nobles and Frederick.
[10]From the OTL negotiations in April 1524 between Christian II’s ambassadors and the Gottorpian government on a possible settlement between Frederick I and his nephew. The nobility really did not want Christian II back.
[11]In OTL, Bryske urged Christian II to burn Aalborg to the ground after its citizens went over to the rebels.
[12]From an OTL letter to Mogens Gøye dated the 17th of March 1523. Rosenkrantz belonged to the part of the nobility who was mostly loyal to the king. In OTL he joined in Mogens Gøye’s attempts at mediating between the king and the rebels, but finally renounced his loyalty to Christian II shortly after surrendering Koldinghus - supposedly out of fear of Sigbritt’s malign influence.
[13]In OTL, Aalborghus was held by a burgher fief-holder. ITTL, Christian II granted it to Henrik Gøye, but his capture outside Koldinghus led to a power vacuum within the city, easily exploited by the rebels.
[14]The hundreds of Onsild, Nørre Hald and Støvring were amalgamated into a pledge-fief under Ove Bille, royal chancellor and bishop of Aarhus.
[15]Besides being rich and progressive for the times, Mogens Gøye was highly respected by commoners and nobles alike. During the Count’s Feud he was one of the few aristocrats who could soothe the enraged peasantry when they went about killing noblemen and torching manors. ITTL, the capture of his brother and the king’s much more amiable disposition puts him solidly in the royal camp.
[16]From an OTL letter dated the 27th of January 1523.
[17]A military unit of some 500 troops.
[18]This might be apocryphal as it was only mentioned by Frederick I’s chancellor Wolfgang von Utenhof some 15 years after the rebellion. Nevertheless, it is a famous remark which many historians have seen as a summary of Christian II’s OTL mercurial reign. One of the most important pieces of literature on the events of 1523 even bears its name.
[19]Originally the drawing depicts a naval action during the Northern Seven Years War.
[20]This was originally a remark Gøye attributed to Sigbrit and one of the reasons he gave for renouncing his allegiance to Christian II in OTL.
Christian II (b. 1481): King of Denmark, Norway, Sweden, the Wends and the Goths, duke of Schleswig, Holstein and Stormarn, count of Oldenburg and Delmenhorst
Queen Elisabeth/Isabella of Habsburg (b. 1501): Sister to the emperor, Charles V.
Their children:
Prince Hans (b. 1517): Heir to the throne and prince elect of Sweden Princes Filip Ferdinand and Maximillian (b. 1519) Princess Dorothea (b. 1520) Princess Christina (b. 1521)
Their ward:
Nils Stensson Sture (b. 1512): Oldest son of the deceased Lord Steward of Sweden.
The Loyalist Council of the Realm
The Lords Spiritual
Christiern Pedersen (b. 1481): Archbishop of Lund and Primate of the North. A humanist scholar who hopes of reforming the Catholic Church. Previously served as the king’s personal chaplain.
Lage Urne (b. 1465): Bishop of Roskilde. A supporter of the king with a moderate appetite for church support.
Ove Bille (b. before 1480): Bishop of Aarhus and royal chancellor. One of the king’s earliest supporters.
Jens Andersen, called Beldenak (b. before 1470): Bishop of Odense. Not well-liked by the king. His distinctive nickname alludes to his shaven pate.
The Lords Temporal
Mogens Gøye (b. 1470): Marshal of the Realm, stadholder of Jutland and the richest nobleman in the North. Fief-holder at Skanderborg and Tordrup castles. Supportive of Christian II’s reforms and supposedly amicable to the Evangelical cause.
Otte Krumpen (b. 1473): Fief-holder at Helsingborg in Scania. Led the Unionist armies in Småland during Christian II’s campaign where he captured the strong fortress of Kalmar.
Albert Jepsen Ravnsberg (b. ?): Fief-holder at Vordingborg on Zealand. A skilled diplomat who helped broker the king’s marriage.
Eske Bille (b. 1480): Fief-holder at Copenhagen castle. Brother of the bishop of Århus.
Anders Bille (b. 1477): Fief-holder at Nyborg castle on Funen. First cousin to Ove and Eske Bille. A seasoned military commander.
Torben Oxe (b. ?): Fief-holder at Krogen castle.
The King’s Captains and Officials
Søren Norby (b. 1470): The Admiral in the Eastern Sea and supreme commander of the royal fleet. An exceptionally skilled naval commander and explorer who led the Nordic expedition to the New World 1520-22. Not a member of the higher aristocracy.
Mogens Gyldenstjerne (b. 1485): Fief-holder at Bygholm Castle in Jutland. Veteran of the Swedish campaign where he carried the king’s standard.
Erik Eriksen Banner (b. 1484): Fief-holder at Kaløhus, one of the strongest castles in Eastern Jutland. Apparently loyal to the king.
Erik Krummedige (b. ?): Fief-holder at Hønborg. Brother in law of Otte Krumpen. A supporter of the Evangelical cause.
Peder Ebbesen Galt (b. ?): Fiefholder at Næsbyhoved and Hindsgavl. One of the most important nobles on Funen.
Tile Gilersen (b. ?): A Frisian sea captain. Søren Norby's brother-in-law and second in command. Captain of The Angel.
Otte Sivertsen (b. ?): A captain in the service of Søren Norby, whom he accompanied to the New World.
Henrik Gøye (b. after 1470): Younger brother of Mogens Gøye and a skilled battlefield commander. Captured by ducal forces during a skirmish outside Koldinghus in May 1522.
Hans Mikkelsen (b. ca. 1470): Mayor of Malmø. An industrious and resourceful proponent of trade and the rights of the burghers. Helped start the Royal Nordic Trade Company to undermine Hanseatic mercantile power in the Baltic.
Poul Helgesen (b. 1485): Carmelite friar and leader of that order’s college in Copenhagen. A skilled theologian and a leading member of the Northern Humanist Revival.
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The Council of Denmark’s Realm in Jutland Declared (In open rebellion)
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The Lords Declarent
Predbjørn Podebusk of Vosborg (b. 1460): Fief-holder at Riberhus. Second only to Mogens Gøye in terms of wealth. A firm believer in the old order. De facto leader of the Jutish rebels.
The Lords Spiritual
Jørgen Friis (b. 1494): Bishop of Viborg. Originally appointed to the office thanks to the king, under whom he had served as a clerk. Friis turned against Christian II on account of the king’s ecclesiastical reforms.
Iver Munk (b. 1470): Bishop of Ribe. One of the instigators of the plot to crown Frederick as king in 1513.
Niels Stygge Rosenkrantz (b. ?): Bishop of Børglum. A vain man concerned with advancing his own wealth and position. A leading force behind both the 1513 and 1522 plots to overthrow Christian II.
The Lords Temporal
Niels Høgh (b. ?): Fief-holder at Skivehus. Initially not opposed to the king, but threw in his lot with the rebels after relations had been established with duke Frederick.
Peder Lykke (b. ?): A veteran of the 1511-13 war with Sweden. Commander of a large peasant army. Very wealthy.
Tyge Krabbe (b. 1474): A brave cavalry commander and industrious estate-builder. Has a strong personal dislike for the king on account of many supposed wrongs done by him.
Oluf Nielsen Rosenkrantz (b. 1490): Fief-holder at Koldinghus. Threatened into abandoning his allegiance to Christian II by the combined might of the Jutish rebels and the Holstenian army.
Mogens Munk (b. after 1470): Younger brother of Iver Munk. A scholar of the law and high judge at the Jutish landsting (regional assembly). Instrumental in establishing connections between duke Frederick and the Jutish council.
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The Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein (In open rebellion)
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Frederick I (b. 1471): Proclaimed king of Denmark, rightly chosen heir to Norway, duke of Schleswig, Holstein and Stormarn, count of Oldenburg and Delmenhorst
Duchess Sophie of Pomerania (b. 1498): The daughter of Bogislaw X, duke of Pomerania and the Polish princess Anna Jagiellon. Married Frederick after the death of his first wife, Anna of Brandenburg.
The Duke’s Children:
Christian (b. 1503): Son of the duke’s first marriage. Stadtholder in the duchies whilst his father campaigns in Jutland.
Dorothea (b. 1504): Daughter of the duke’s first marriage
Hans (b. 1521): Son of Frederick and Sophie of Pomerania.
The Duke’s Captains and Officials
Johann von Rantzau (b. 1492): Field Marshal and supreme commander of the Gottorpian armies. Won distinction as a cavalry commander during the unionist wars in Sweden.
Wolfgang von Uttenhof (b. 1494): The duke’s trusted chancellor and chief political advisor.
Johann VII. von Hoya (b. before 1490): Titular count of Hoya and commander of the ducal mercenary cavalry.
Christoffer von Veltheim (b. ?): Captain of a infantry fähnlein in the service of duke Frederick.
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The Hereditary Kingdom of Norway
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Under the governance of:
Christian II (b. 1481): King of Denmark, Norway, Sweden, the Wends and the Goths, duke of Schleswig, Holstein and Stormarn, count of Oldenburg and Delmenhorst
The Council of the Realm
The Lords Spiritual
Erik Valkendorf (b. ?): Archbishop of Trondheim. Former chancellor to Christian II. Very concerned with the king’s continued interference in church matters.
Anders Mus (b. ?): Bishop of Oslo.
Mogens Lauritssøn (b. ?): Bishop of Hamar.
Hoskul Hoskulsson (b. 1465): Bishop of Stavanger.
Olav Torkelsson (b. ?): Bishop of Bergen.
The Lords Temporal
Karl Knutsson of Tre Rosor (b. ?): Fief-holder at Bohus castle and de facto viceroy of the realm. A veteran of the Unionist campaign in Sweden. Extremely loyal to the king.
Nils Henriksson (b. 1455): A venerable old conservative.
Olav Galle (b. before 1490): Fief-holder at Akershus castle. Next to Karl Knutsson the most powerful of the native Norwegian aristocracy.
Gaute Galle (b. 1490): Younger brother of Olav Galle, beholden to him in all things.
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The Elective Kingdom of Sweden
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Under the governance of:
Christian II (b. 1481): King of Denmark, Norway, Sweden, the Wends and the Goths, duke of Schleswig, Holstein and Stormarn, count of Oldenburg and Delmenhorst
The King’s Government in Sweden
Henrik Krummedige (b. 1464): Viceroy in Sweden. Commanded the main Union army during Christian II’s conquest of Sweden 1518-19. A skilled general.
Hemmingh Gadh (b. 1452): Archbishop of Uppsala. Previously a well known Sture partisan, who was captured by the Danes after the Battle of Åsunden (5/1/1519). In the Immediate aftermath, the Lord Steward seized his feudal holdings on the Åland Isles (Kastelholm castle). Combined with the fact that the Younger Sture had reneged on his promise to make Gadh the archbishop of Uppsala, he declared for Christian II. Instrumental in quelling the peasant revolts around Lake Mälaren.
Hans Brask (b. 1464): Bishop of Linköping (the second most important diocese in Sweden). A machiavellian political operator who managed to maneuver between the Sture and royal parties.
Erik Abrahamsson Leijonhufvud (b. 1471): The only undefeated Swedish general of the 1518-19 war. Originally a member of the Peace Party, he defected to Christian II after the Battle of Tiveden.
The Lords Spiritual
Otto Svinhufvud (b. ca. 1460): Bishop of Västerås.
Matthias Gregersson Lillie (b. before 1488): Bishop of Strängnäs. Helped Hans Brask negotiate the surrender of Stockholm castle in December 1519.
Ingmarus Petri (b. ?): Bishop of Växjö. Supporter of the independence of the Catholic church and opposed to reform.
Arvid Kuck (b. 1464): Bishop of Åbo. Leader of the Catholic church in Finland. An unrepentant Sture supporter.
Vincent Hennings (b. ?): Bishop of Skara. A former Sture partisan.
The Lords Temporal
Jakob Arvidsson Trolle (b. 1475): Fief-holder at Almarestäket. Uncle of the murdered archbishop of Uppsala, Gustav. A strong supporter of the king. Holds domains in both Denmark and Sweden.
Ture Jönsson (b. 1475). Fief-holder at Älvsborg. A man of fickle loyalties.
Bengt Gylte (b. ?): Fief-holder at Nyköping. Member of the aristocratic faction.
Holger Karlsson Gera (b. 1470): Fief-holder at Örebro. Supportive of the king. His wife was the cousin of the murdered archbishop of Uppsala.
Johan Arendsson Ulv (b. before 1486): Fief-holder at Kronoberg. Went over to the king after the Battle of Uppsala. Member of the aristocratic faction.
Knut Nilsson Sparre (b. ?): Fief-holder at Kalmar. Convinced Leijonhufvud to abandon the Lord Steward’s cause and support Christian II instead.
Nils Bosson Grip (b. 1460): A fervent supporter of Hans I, the father of Christian II. Imprisoned by the Sture party during the 1518-19 war on account of his unionist sympathies. Fief-holder at Borgholm on Öland.
Peder Turesson Bielke (b. 1469): Fief-holder at Västerås castle. Member of the aristocratic faction.
Joakim Brahe (b. 1481): A Sture supporter.
The Sture Court in Finland
Lady Kristina Nilsdotter Gyllenstierna (b. 1494): Widow of the late Lord Steward, Steen Sture the Younger. Fief-holder at Tavastehus in Finland. Grudgingly accepted the Oldenburg restoration in Sweden proper after the capture of Stockholm.
Her son:
Svante Stensson Sure (b. 1517): A toddler kept close by his mother.
Her supporters:
Magnus Eriksson Vasa (born 1501): Younger brother of Gustav Vasa, the standard bearer of Steen Sture the Younger, who was killed during The Battle of Örebro (3/2/1519)
Niels Eriksson Banér (b. before 1480): Fief-holder at Raseborg castle in Finland. Uncle to Lady Kristina.
Peder Jakobsson (b. 1470): Former chancellor of Steen Sture the Younger. Headed the delegation to Danzig where Niels Stensson Sture was originally to be kept safe.
Knut Mikaelsson (b. ?): Former deacon of the Bishopric of Västerås
Måns Bryntesson Lilliehöök (b. ?): One of the more important noblemen from Västergötland. His father died fighting the Danes in 1510.
Bengt Arendsson Ulv (b. circa 1460): Brother of the councilor of the realm, Johan Arendsson Ulv. Unlike his brother, Bengt refused to side with the king before Stockholm fell.
Måns Gren (born ?): A staunch Sture supporter. Commanded the crossbowmen during the siege of Stockholm. Was forced out of his fiefdom of Västerås after Christian II came into his Swedish kingdom.
