The West Gothland Insurrection
Sweden never had a wiser or more judicious ruler than King Gustavus Vasa,
but in that land of turbulent lords and ambitious mischief-makers the
noblest and most generous of kings could not reign without secret
plotting and rebellious sentiments. So it fell out in Sweden in 1529,
after Gustavus had been six years on the throne.
The leader in this movement was one Ture Joensson, a hoary old conspirator
of g
eat influence in West Gothland, where he and his ancestors had long
been judges and where he was looked upon by the people as their lord and
chief. By a decision of the court he was obliged to restore to the king
certain property which he unjustly held, and he vented his feelings
bitterly against the heretic and tyrant, as he called him. In fact, he
hatched a conspiracy, which spread widely, through his influence, among
the nobles of West Gothland.
In Smaland there was much discontent with the teaching of the Lutheran
doctrines and an outbreak took place, the king's sister and her husband
being taken prisoners by the insurgents. These sent letters to Ture
Joensson in West Gothland, asking him to be their captain, and also wrote
to East Gothland, inciting the people to rise and expel their monarch.
Ture Joensson had three sons, one of them a distinguished soldier in the
king's service, while the second was a man high in the king's favor. The
old rebel had high hopes of aid from these two, and wrote them letters
inciting them to rebellion. But they were not to be drawn from their
allegiance, and took the letters with unbroken seals to the king,
promising to devote their lives to his cause.
The third son, Herr Goeran, dean in Upsala, was of different mold and
sentiment. Opposed to the king on religious grounds, he gathered a body
of peasant runaways, a hundred in number, and, afraid to stay in his
house, he took them to a wood in the neighborhood, felled trees for
barricades, and laid up a supply of provisions in his impromptu fort.
From there he proceeded to Bollnaes, gathering more men and growing
bolder, and fancying in his small soul that he was the destined leader of
a great rebellion. But his valor vanished when a priest of the vicinity,
named Erik, a man faithful to the king, called together a body of his
parishioners and marched against the would-be insurgent.
Dean Goeran was standing at a garret window when he saw these men
approaching. At once, with a most unsoldierlike panic, he rushed in
terror down stairs and fled through a back door into the forest, without
a word to his men of the coming danger. The house was surrounded and the
men made prisoners, the king's steward, whom they held captive, being
released. Erik spoke to them so severely of their disloyalty that they
fell on their knees in prayer and petition, and when he told them that
the best way to gain pardon for their act was to seek and deliver their
fugitive leader, they gladly undertook the task.
The scared leader of rebels meanwhile was wandering in anguish and alarm
through the wide wood, not knowing what to do. Coming at length to a
large forest lake, he entered a little boat that he found and pushed off
from land, thinking thus to be in greater safety.
As he thus sat, lost in his unquiet thoughts, some of his late followers
reached the lake and saw him. So absorbed was he in his bitter
reflections that he failed to see other boats gliding out towards him,
and they were close upon him before he perceived them. Then, leaping up
in wild fright, he sought in his despair to jump into the water, but
before he could do so some of the peasants had rowed up and seized him.
In his bitterness of spirit he tore the gold chain from his neck and the
rings from his fingers and flung them into the lake, resolved that they
should not become the spoil of the king he hated.
But Gustavus was not the man to trouble himself about such small fry of
conspirators as this. The dean was taken to Upsala and thence to
Stockholm, where he was kept in confinement, though with every comfort,
until the rebellion incited by his father was quelled. Then the king,
taking into account his brothers' loyalty and his own insignificance,
freed him and restored him his property. He could well afford to be
lenient to a rebel of his calibre.
If this was all we had to tell, it would not be worth the telling, but
the conspiracy in West Gothland went on and led to events of far greater
interest. A born plotter, old Joensson kept at his work, and to prevent
any news of what was taking place from reaching the king, a guard of a
thousand men was placed to watch the highway and stop all messengers. At
the head of this guard was a priest called Nils of Hvalstad, a thorough
hater of the king. To him the insurgents sent their letters, to be
forwarded to those for whom they were intended. Such was the state of
affairs, the designs of the plotters ripening while the king was in this
way kept in ignorance of matters of such importance to him.
Now we come to the dramatic means by which the king was advised of the
plot. A scout was needed to pass the guards set by the rebels and bring
word to Gustavus of what was going on in West Gothland, and for this
purpose was chosen a young town-sergeant of Stockholm, so famed for
boldness that the people called him Hans Hardy. He had been born in West
Gothland and was familiar with the people and the roads of that province
and was therefore well adapted for the work. He accomplished it in a
manner much better than was expected.
Making his way through forest paths and along little-frequented by-ways,
he succeeded in crossing the river that bordered the province and passing
the rebel outposts, making his way to his old home, where he spent
several weeks with his relations, meanwhile secretly gathering the
information needed.
On his return he pursued a different course. Buying a quantity of West
Gothland cheese, he went directly towards the ford of the Tiweden and so
managed as to let himself fall into the hands of the guard, who brought
him to their leader, Nils of Hvalstad.
The rebel priest charged the seeming peasant roundly with being a spy,
but the cunning fellow pretended to be very simple and bucolic, saying
that it had been four years since he had been in Upland and he now wanted
to go there and sell his cheese.
Nils was not so easily to be hoodwinked, but bade his men take the
supposed spy to the sergeant's house at Hofwa, where four men were set
over him as guards. The pretended simpleton seemed well-enough pleased,
eating and drinking freely, talking cheerfully of country affairs with
his guards, and spending his money freely, so that the sergeant grew to
like the jovial country lad.
After a few days, however, Hans pretended to be sick, sighing and
groaning as if in severe pain. Finally he took to his bed and seemed in
such a sad state that they all pitied the poor cheesemonger and his
guards often left him for hours alone, thinking his sickness was all the
security that was needed.
Hans Hardy had a purpose in this. He had discovered that Nils kept a box
in a dark corner of the room and imagined that it might contain something
of importance to him in his mission. In fact he had thrown himself in his
hands for the purpose of fathoming his plots. One day, while left alone,
he got up and examined the box, and to his joy found in it a number of
letters from the chief conspirators, containing full evidence of their
complication. Having read enough of them to gain an idea of their
character, he put them back, shut the box, and pushed it again into its
dark corner.
Then he took to his bed once more and when his guards returned they found
him moaning more sorely than before and seeming in such sad case that
they thought him at the point of death. Pitying the poor fellow, they
deemed it idle to watch him and went contentedly to their beds. The next
morning, when they rose, the sick man had vanished and with him the box
and its contents. Hans had got off with the precious burden into the
forest, with whose paths he was thoroughly familiar, leaving his late
guards his cheese for consolation.
He reached Stockholm in safety with his budget of letters and took them
to the king, who rewarded him liberally for his valuable service and bade
him to keep it secret. This he did, and it was long before any one knew
where Hans Hardy had been or what had become of the lost letters. King
Gustavus kept his counsel and bided his time.
Meanwhile the work of the conspirators went on, they going so far as to
nominate a new king, their choice falling upon Mans Bryntesson, Ture
Joensson's brother-in-law, a handsome and eloquent young man, far more
suitable in person than in mind for a king. He was soft, irresolute, and
somewhat foolish, and when treated with royal honors by the conspirators,
he began holding court with princely pomp, borrowing money from his
friends for this purpose when his own was exhausted.
Having gone so far with his plans, Ture called a convention of the people
of the province to meet on Larfva Heath, saying that he had matters of
the highest importance to lay before them. Here was a great plain, where
the Gothlanders for ages had held their public meetings, and where Ture's
summons brought together a goodly number.
With the insurgent lords around him, and proud of his power and
authority, Sir Ture now addressed the peasants, in full confidence of
their support. His principal charge against the king was that he had
accepted the Lutheran doctrines and wished to introduce a new faith into
the country to the ruin of the common people.
"Now," he continued, "I have always understood that the good West
Gothlanders have no mind to become Lutherans, but prefer to retain the
old faith which their fathers and forefathers have had before them. If
you will from this day renounce King Gustavus I will give you a mild and
gracious sovereign, who will preserve for you your good old customs."
Bishop Magnus followed with a brief address, after which Sir Ture,
convinced from the intent silence of the peasants that they were with
him, said:
"Let him who gives his consent to take a new king stretch up his hands."
To his consternation not a hand was lifted, while a threatening murmur
was heard among the peasants. Neither the lords nor the bishop knew what
to make of this. They had gone on with their plots without a dream that
the people would not be with them. As for the newly chosen king, who had
been eagerly waiting to receive their homage, he fell back white and
trembling. At length two young peasants stood forth to speak for the
people, one of them loudly declaring:
"We have nothing to charge against King Gustavus, but owe him deep
gratitude for having freed us from the cruel and tyrannical rule of King
Christian, and kept the land in law and right as well as in peace and
quiet. What you, good sirs, say of the new faith, we peasants can neither
judge nor understand; perhaps it may not be so bad as fame reports.
Change of rulers generally costs the peasants and the land dear, and we
might by these means draw upon ourselves and our children long disquiet
and disorder. It seems, therefore, best for us to remain in the faith
and allegiance which we have sworn and promised to our lawful lord and
master Gustaf Eriksson."
These words had evidently the full approval of the people, to judge from
their upstretched hands and their loud acclamations, and at once the
courage of the conspirators fell to the ground. What to say or to do they
knew not. They had foolishly gone forward with their plots without
consulting the people and now found themselves in a sore dilemma. Instead
of coming to their aid, as they had expected, there was reason to fear
that the peasants would seize them and hand them over to the king. In his
utter dismay Ture Joensson faltered out:
"My very good friends, I only wished by this trial to test your fidelity.
None of the lords have a thought of deserting the king. A fortnight hence
we hope to meet you here again, to consult further on our mutual
interests."
This ended the meeting on Larfva Heath. The peasants returned to their
homes and the lords in dismay sought their castles. The bottom had
suddenly dropped out from the rebellion and the conspirators were in a
perilous position. War against the king was impossible, and in haste they
sent a message to Nils of Hvalstad ordering him to break up the camp on
the Tiweden and bidding him to come to them without delay.
When he came they asked him what he had done with the letters which had
been put in his care. Not daring to tell that they had been stolen, he
said that he had burnt them on hearing of the result of the Larfva
meeting. Another custodian of letters was also sent for and asked the
same question. He had really sent his letters to the king, but he
produced a budget of papers which he now threw into the fire, telling
them that they might be at rest about these perilous papers, which could
now never appear against them.
Somewhat relieved in their minds by this act, Mans Bryntesson, Ture
Bjelke, and Nils Winge, three of the leading conspirators, decided to
remain at home. To become wandering outlaws was too bitter a fate; they
had not spoken at Larfva Heath, their letters were burnt, there was no
evidence against them. But as for Ture Joensson and Bishop Magnus, they
had put themselves openly on record. The pretence that the meeting had
been called to test the loyalty of the people would have no weight with a
man like King Gustavus. To remain would be to risk their lives, and
collecting their money and valuables they made all haste to set foot on
Danish territory, Ture Joensson finally to meet a tragical death in the
invasion of Norway by the deposed King Christian, as described in the
preceding tale.
The embers of the rebellion were easily extinguished and the nation
returned to its peaceful and satisfied condition, the officers of the
king holding meetings with the malcontents and promising full pardon to
those who would confess and renounce their disloyal acts. This offer of
pardon was accepted by nearly the whole of the conspirators, the only
ones who held out being Mans Bryntesson, the mock king, Nils Winge, and
Ture Bjelke. Trusting to their letters having been destroyed they wrote
to the king, saying that, as they felt entirely guiltless, they could not
plead guilt and implore pardon, and thus put themselves under suspicion.
They begged him to appoint a meeting at which their conduct could be
investigated. This he agreed to, the 17th of June being fixed as the
date.
When the time came the three lords appeared before the appointed tribunal
and were exhorted to confess their share in Ture Joensson's rebellion.
Mans Bryntesson answered for the three, boldly declaring:
"We did not venture to set ourselves against Ture Joensson on account of
his great influence in the province; we often heard him speak
disrespectfully of the king, but we bore with him in this for the sake of
amusement, attributing it to his old age and childishness. But it can
never be shown that we bore any share in his treason."
"What will you venture that this cannot be proved against you?" asked the
king.
"Our neck to the sword and our bodies to the wheel, as the law exacts,"
they confidently replied.
"Take care," said one of the counsellors. "Do not venture so much.
Perhaps you may yet be found guilty."
They replied by a haughty "No," and insisted on their innocence. Gustavus
then spoke again, his gaze now stern and threatening:
"Choose one of these two. Either to confess yourselves guilty and accept
pardon, or to be tried and condemned according to law."
"We choose to be judged according to the law," they replied; "and if we
be found partakers in this rebellion we will willingly suffer and pay for
it, as may be adjudged against us."
These words, and the stern dignity of the king, impressed all in the
hall. Complete silence reigned and all eyes were fixed on his face. He
gave a signal to his servants and two boxes were carried in. These were
opened and a number of letters were produced. The king asked the culprits
if they recognized these letters. This they stoutly denied. Then a number
of them were read aloud and complete proof of their complicity in the
rebellion was shown, the judges recognizing the hand and seal of the
defendants.
Pale and thunderstruck, they listened tremblingly to the reading of the
fatal letters; then fell upon their knees, weeping and imploring mercy.
Their repentance came too late. The king bade the council to examine into
the matter at once and pronounce sentence. This was that the three
criminals should suffer the fate which they had declared themselves ready
to bear; they were condemned as traitors and sentenced to loss of life
and estate.
The trembling culprits were taken to a room above the school-house,
locked in and a strong guard set before the door. Here they were left to
the contemplation of their coming fate. Despairingly they looked around
for some means of escape, and a shade of hope returned when they fancied
they had discovered one. There were no bars to their window, but it was
far above the ground. But beneath it stood a pear tree, so near the
building that they thought they might leap into its branches and climb
down its trunk to the ground.
Waiting until night had fallen, they prepared to make the effort, Mans
Bryntesson being the first to try. He missed the tree and fell to the
ground, breaking his leg in the fall. The others, seeing his ill fortune,
did not venture to follow. In great pain he crept from the garden into an
adjoining field. Here his strength gave out and he lay hidden in the
half-grown rye.
Missed the next morning, his trail through the grass was easily followed
and he was found and carried back to prison. Soon after the prisoners
were taken to Stockholm, where Mans Bryntesson and Nils Winge were
beheaded and their bodies exposed on the wheel. Their estates, however,
were restored to their widows and children. The third, Ture Bjelke, being
less guilty, was pardoned, but was obliged to pay heavy penalties for his
treasonable acts. And thus, with the death of these two criminals and the
exile of two others, ended the West Gothland insurrection.