The Fall Of Christian Ii The Tyrant


It was in November, 1520, that Christian II. of Denmark was crowned king

of Sweden. Norway was his as well and he was monarch of the whole

Scandinavian world. He had reached the highest point in his career, but

so great had been his cruelty and treachery that all men feared and no

man trusted him and he was on the brink of a sudden and complete

overthrow. The man who had worn the crowns of three kingdoms was to spend

y
ars within the narrow walls of a dungeon, with none to pity him in his

misery, but all to think that he deserved it all and more. Barely has

tyranny met with such retribution on earth, and the "Fall of the Tyrant"

will serve as a fitting title to an impressive tale.



So sudden and successful was the rebellion of the Swedes under Gustavus

Vasa, that in the summer of the year after the massacre in the Great

Square of Stockholm the Danes held only that city and a few other

strongholds in Sweden. One after another these fell, Calmar and Stockholm

in 1523, and in June of that year Gustavus was chosen king of the land

which his hand had freed. A young man still, he was at the beginning of a

great and glorious reign.



Before he became king, Christian, his great enemy, had ceased to reign.

He had shown the same inhuman spirit in Denmark and Norway as in Sweden

and had sown his whole dominion thick with enemies.



This is the way his fall was brought about. In 1522 he issued a code of

laws for Denmark of a wise and progressive character, especially in

freeing the peasantry from the slavish condition in which they had been

held, they before being open to purchase and sale like so many brute

animals. Christian declared that every man should be his own master and

took steps to limit the power and wealth of the clergy and to improve the

commerce of the kingdom.



These changes, while wise and important, were difficult to introduce

against the opposition of the lords and the clergy and needed the hand of

a prudent and judicious administrator. Such Christian was not. He

undertook them rashly and endeavored to enforce them by violence. Even

the people, whom the new laws so favored, were incensed by a great

increase in their taxes. No one trusted him; every one hated and feared

him. Even the monarchs of other countries detested him and would not aid

him in his extremity.



The details of the blood-bath in Stockholm had reached the ears of the

Pope and he sent a legate to inquire into the atrocities committed under

the implied sanction of the Church. As they were not to be concealed,

Christian attempted to excuse them, and, driven to extremity, accused one

of his chief favorites, Didrik Slaghoek, as the originator of the

massacre.



Slaghoek had just been named archbishop of Lund, but was brought to

Copenhagen, examined under torture, condemned to death, and carried to

the gallows and thence to a funeral pile on which he was burned alive,

Christian leaving the town that he might not witness the cruel death of

his late favorite.



This cowardly sacrifice of his devoted friend and servant, instead of

winning the favor of the people, redoubled their abhorrence of the

bloodthirsty tyrant. Shortly afterwards the Luebeckers invaded the

kingdom, and Christian, not trusting his people, called in foreign

soldiers to repel them. Needing money for their pay, he called a diet to

meet on December 10, 1522. Few attended it, and in anger he called a new

meeting for the following January.



Before the date arrived rumors were set afloat that he intended to

butcher the Danish nobles as he had done those of Sweden, that chains

were being provided to secure them, and that he would have disguised

executioners among his guards; also that new and heavier taxes were to be

laid on the peasants.



These rumors, widely circulated, incensed and frightened the nobility and

a meeting was held by the nobles of Jutland in which they determined to

renounce their allegiance to Christian and offer the crown to his uncle,

Frederick, duke of Holstein.



Magnus Munk, one of these lords, was chosen to deliver their decision to

Christian and sought him for this purpose. But it was far from safe to

offer King Christian such a document openly, and Munk pretended to be

making a friendly visit, conversing and drinking with the king until a

late hour of the night. On rising to retire, he thrust into Christian's

glove, which had been left on the table, the letter of renouncement of

the Jutland nobles.



Instead of going to bed, Munk hastened to the vessel in which he had come

and sailed to Holstein, where he made to Frederick the offer of the

crown. As may be imagined, there was little hesitation in accepting it.



The next morning a page of the palace found the king's glove on the table

and took it to him. On reading the letter which he found in it the tyrant

was filled with fear and fury. He sent guards to seize Munk, but when

told that he was not to be found, his terror grew intense. He knew not

where to turn nor what to do. He might have gathered an army of the

peasants, to whom he had just given freedom, to fight the nobles, but

instead he wrote to the lords, abjectly acknowledging his faults and

promising to act differently in the future.



They were not to be won, no one trusting him. Then the terrified tyrant

hurried to Copenhagen and rode round the streets, imploring the citizens

with tears to aid him, confessing his errors and vowing to change his

ways. Many of the people, unused to see a king in tears, were moved by

his petitions, but no wise man trusted him, few came to his assistance,

and the sedition rapidly gained strength.



At length he took a desperate step. In the harbor lay twenty large

warships, which he might have used for defence, but in his terror he

thought only of flight. All the treasure he could lay hands on was

carried to these vessels, even the gilt balls on top of the church spires

being taken. Sigbrit, a detestable favorite, who had given him much evil

counsel and dared not show herself to the enraged people, was carried on

board in a chest and placed among his valuables. He, his wife and

children, and a few faithful servants, followed, and on the 20th of

April, 1523, he set sail from his native land in a passion of grief and

despair. A violent storm scattered his ships, but the one that bore him

reached Antwerp in safety. Sigbrit, who had crept from her trunk, sought

to console him by saying that if he could no longer be king of Denmark he

might at least become burgomaster of Amsterdam.



Thus did this cruel and contemptible coward, who less than three years

before had been unquestioned monarch of all Scandinavia, lose the crown

he was so unfit to wear, and land, a despised fugitive, in a Dutch city,

with but a handful of followers. His fall was thoroughly well deserved,

for it was an immediate consequence of the detestation he had aroused by

his deed of blood in Stockholm, and there was scarce a man in Europe to

pity him in his degradation.



It was a sad thing that the salutary laws he had promulgated in the last

year of his reign came from so evil a source. Frederick was forced by the

nobles to whom he owed his throne to abrogate them, and the code was even

burned as "a dangerous book contrary to good morals." The peasants fell

back into their former state of semi-slavery and for centuries afterwards

failed to enjoy the freedom accorded to the people of their sister states

of Norway and Sweden.



In the years that followed the deposed king went from court to court of

the German princes, seeking help to regain his throne, but meeting with

scorn and contempt from some of them and refusal from all. He still

retained much of the wealth of which he had robbed Copenhagen, and now,

in despair of obtaining assistance, he took into his service a number of

soldiers of fortune whom a treaty of peace had lately thrown out of

employment.



With these sons of adventure, twelve thousand in all, he ravaged Holland,

which had recently afforded him refuge, doing so much mischief that he

was at length bought off. The emperor, Charles V., then ruler over

Holland and brother-in-law to the adventurer, paid him the fifty thousand

gulden still due on his wife's dower and gave him twelve battle-ships in

addition. The Dutch whom he was plundering helped in this as the easiest

way to be quit of him, and, with a body of experienced troops, with

funds and a fleet, the hope of winning back his old dominions arose in

his soul.



There were many malcontents then in Sweden, ready to aid him in an

invasion, and the clergy and nobility of Norway, dissatisfied with

Frederick's rule, subscribed large sums in money and plate for his aid.

Finally, thus strengthened and encouraged, Christian set sail for the

Northland with twenty-five ships and an army of eight thousand men.



Unfortunately for him the elements proved adverse, a violent storm

scattering the fleet and sending nearly half of it to the bottom. He had

only fifteen ships and a reduced number of men when, in November, 1531,

he landed at Obslo, Norway.



The nobles and people, however, discontented with Frederick's government

and eager for a king of their own choice, declared for him and at a diet

held at Obslo proclaimed him king, only a few nobles dissenting. These,

however, held the strongest fortresses in the kingdom. One of these was

Magnus Gyllenstierna, governor of Aggerhus. Against this stronghold

Christian led all his force and might easily have taken it, for it was

lacking in provisions, but for a stratagem by which Magnus saved himself

and his fortress.



He sent word to Christian that the place was too weak for him to attempt

to hold and that he had seen the king's success with pleasure; but, to

save himself from the imputation of cowardice, he begged leave for time

to ask King Frederick for assistance. If none came before the 1st of May

he would willingly surrender the place.



Adept in deceit as Christian was, he this time suffered himself to be

tricked. At the suggestion of Magnus a thousand men were sent from

Denmark, and led by secret paths over mountains and through forests in

all haste, throwing themselves into Aggerhus while Christian was watching

the seas to intercept them. In a rage he hurried back to renew the siege,

but the shrewd commandant was now strong enough to defy him.



Ture Joensson, one of the Swedish nobles who had joined Christian, led a

portion of his forces against the fortress of Bohus, writing to its

commandant, Klass Bille, a letter in which he set forth the great change

for good which had come upon King Christian and begging him to side with

his Grace. He closed in the manner customary in those days: "Commending

you, with your dear wife, children, and friends, hereby to God's

protection."



On the next day he received the following answer:



"Greeting suited to the season.



Learn, Ture Joensson, that I yesterday received your writing with

some of your loose words with which you sought to seduce me from my

honor, soil my integrity and oath, and make me like yourself, which

God, who preserves the consciences of all honest men, forbid. To the

long and false talk which your letter contains, I confess myself,

by God's providence to be too good to give you any other answer than

this which my letter conveys. You have so often turned and worn your

coat, and it is now so miserably thread-bare on both sides, that it

is no longer fit to appear among the apparel of any honest man. No

more this time, I commend you to him to whom God the Father

commended that man who betrayed His only Son,



Ex Bohus.

Sunday next before Lady-day, 1531."



Klass Bille proved as good with an answer by balls and blows as by pen,

and the Castle of Bohus defied all attempts to take it.



Meanwhile the Swedish exiles were writing to their friends at home, and,

elated by the capture of a Swedish fort, Christian marched his army

towards the frontier, and made ready to invade the kingdom from which he

had been driven two years before.



But Gustavus and Frederick were not idle. They recognized the danger of

this invasion and prepared to meet it, renewing their treaties that they

might work loyally together. Gustavus wrote to his officers not to fight

with Christian unless they were from four to six times as strong, as he

wished to give him a reception that would cure him of all future desire

to return to Sweden.



The forces of Christian and Gustavus first met at Kungelf, where

Christian looked with disturbed eyes on his antagonists as he saw them

marching across a frozen river, among them three thousand men in armor of

polished steel. Turning to Ture Joensson, who stood beside him, he said

wrathfully:



"You said that there was not a man-at-arms in Sweden. What see you

yonder? Do you think those old women?"



The next morning Ture Joensson's body was found lying headless in the

street, whether thus punished by Christian for his lies or by some Swede

for his treason, is not known.



The war began with equal fortune at first to each side, but later fortune

turned in favor of the Swedes, while food grew scarce in Christian's

army, his foragers being beaten back wherever they appeared. Soon, with

an army dwindled to two thousand men, he was forced to march back to

Obslo.



So far Gustavus's army had been fighting alone, and it was not until

March, 1532, that some Danish ships of war arrived. But their coming soon

ended the war. They burned Christian's vessels and reinforced Aggerhus,

and in May sailed towards Obslo.



Christian's hopes of success were now at an end. He had made his final

effort and had failed. His men were forsaking him in troops and

resistance to his foes became impossible. As a last resort he tried a

crafty expedient, contriving to get some forged letters distributed in

the Danish camp to the effect that twenty Dutch men-of-war, with five

thousand troops, were coming to his aid.



The Danish commander, alarmed at this report, hastened to conclude peace

with him, on condition that all who had taken part in the rebellion

should be pardoned. Christian was to cross to Denmark, and if he could

not agree with Frederick was to be free to go to Germany, on giving a

solemn oath never again to make any attempt on the three Scandinavian

kingdoms.



Before this treaty was confirmed messengers arrived from Frederick who

discovered the condition of Christian to be hopeless and insisted on an

unconditional surrender. But Knut, the Danish admiral, who had been given

full power to act, took Christian on his ships and sailed with him to

Denmark, where he insisted that the conditions he had made should be

observed.



Frederick and his council were in a strait. To let this tiger loose again

was too dangerous, and finally some pretext for breaking the treaty was

made and Christian was sentenced to a life imprisonment in the Castle of

Sanderberg on the island of Femern. Frederick and his son were obliged to

confirm this sentence by a written promise to the Danish nobles that they

would never release the detested prisoner.



When Christian learned that the convention had been broken he wept

bitterly, lamenting that "he had fallen into the hands of men who cared

neither for oaths, promises, nor seals."



These complaints no one heeded. He was taken deep into the dungeons of

Sanderberg Castle, and locked up in a dark and narrow prison vault

destitute of every convenience, his only companion being a half-witted

dwarf who had long been in his service. With the harshness common in

those days, and which in his case was well deserved, the door of the

cell was walled up, only one small opening being left through which he

could receive the scanty allowance of food brought him, and a little

barred window through which some sparse light could make its way.



In this dreadful prison the captive remained twelve years without the

slightest amelioration of its conditions. Then the door was opened and

fresh air and other conveniences were allowed him, but a strict watch was

kept up. Finally in 1549, five years later, it being believed that no

harm could possibly come from an old man sixty-eight years of age, he was

taken to Kallendborg Castle, where he was permitted to entertain himself

by hunting or in any other manner he pleased. He lived ten years later,

ending in 1559 a life whose misfortunes were a just reward for his

faithlessness and cruelty in his day of power.



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