CHAPTER XVII

ASSASSINATION OF GUSTAVUS THE THIRD OF SWEDEN

(March 17, 1792)

On the seventeenth of March, 1792, Gustavus the Third, King of Sweden, was assassinated by Ankarström, a Swedish nobleman, and this crime caused a sensation throughout Europe, although the horrors of the French Revolution and the wholesale executions by the guillotine had made the world familiar with murder and bloodshed. This assassination was of a political character, and private revenge or other considerations had nothing whatever to do with it. But in order to understand fully the causes leading up to the tragedy, it will be necessary to refer to the condition of public affairs in Sweden during the period preceding the reign of Gustavus.

The continuous and costly wars of Charles the Twelfth had left Sweden in a terrible state of exhaustion and misery. A number of her most valuable provinces had been taken by Russia, and the domestic affairs of the country, its finances, industry and commerce were utterly ruined. Charles died during his invasion of Norway; it would really be more proper to say “was assassinated”; for, on the evening of the eleventh of December, 1718, while leaning against a parapet and looking at the soldiers throwing up the breastworks, he was struck down by a bullet, which could not have come from the enemy, in front of the fortress of Frederickshall. In spite of the very severe winter weather, Charles had insisted on laying siege to the strong fortress, and he paid for his obstinacy with his life.

When the news of his death reached Sweden, the nobility took advantage of it and of the unsettled question of the succession to the throne in order to recover those privileges and rights which it had lost through the genius and statesmanship of Charles the Eleventh, and which had not been restored to it during the reign of Charles the Twelfth. The Reichsrath was immediately reinstated in its old rights, and arrogated to itself the power of deciding the succession according to its own will and advantage. It coolly passed by the lawful heir, Charles Frederick of Holstein-Gottorp, the son of Charles the Twelfth’s elder sister, and elected Frederick of Hesse-Cassel, who had married Charles the Twelfth’s younger sister; not, however, without having compelled the royal couple to renounce, both for themselves and for their heirs, all absolute power, and also to make a solemn promise that the Reichsrath should be reinstated in all its former rights and prerogatives, which made that Assembly actually co-regent of the kingdom. The Reichsrath was declared sovereign; it had seventeen members, and each member had, in the decision of public questions, one vote, and the King only two. It decided all questions of domestic and foreign policy arbitrarily, and controlled not only the legislative, but also the executive action of the government. The King was a mere figure-head, poorly salaried and of little influence. But this degradation of the crown was only one feature of the oligarchy established by the Reichsrath. It restored to the nobility all the domains and landed estates which had been appropriated by the crown during the preceding century, exempted them from taxation, conferred upon them the exclusive right of holding all the higher offices in the army, navy and civil service, and heaped all public burdens upon the lower classes of the people. The King, shorn of all power, was utterly helpless to prevent these wrongs. His timid protests were always met with a reminder that he had been elected to the throne only after having promised to reinstate and not to disturb the nobility in the enjoyment of their ancient rights. The Reichsrath also concluded treaties of peace with the powers upon which Charles the Twelfth had made war, and as the members negotiating these treaties looked out much more for their own advantage than for that of their country, Sweden was so badly crippled that it ceased being a great European power. That honor passed from Sweden to two other countries which up to that time had been considered Sweden’s inferiors in power and influence,--Russia and Prussia.

It was not long before the Reichsrath, whose members sold themselves to foreign rulers, was split up into different factions which fought bitterly for supremacy. One of these factions favored France and was regularly subsidized with French money, while the other faction was equally well subsidized with Russian money and followed blindly the dictates of the Czar and Czarina of Russia. The French faction was called “the party of the hats,” and the Russian faction was known as “the party of the caps.” These two factions fought each other most bitterly, each charging the other with almost any crime committed against divine and human law; and both were right in the charge, because both were equally guilty. At the beginning of the war of the Austrian succession, France wanted to prevent Russia from siding with Austria, and thought a war between Sweden and Russia would be the right thing to accomplish that object. The French Ambassador at Stockholm therefore ordered the “party of the hats” in the Reichsrath to declare war upon Russia, and a resolution to that effect prevailed against the violent and menacing protests of the “party of the caps.” In great haste a Swedish army was recruited to take the field against the Russians in Finland; but since all the money sent by the French government for the proper equipment of that army had disappeared in the pockets of the members of the Reichsrath, the army was so poorly equipped and its war-material was of such inferior quality that it could not hold the field against the well-armed and well-equipped Russians, and suffered defeat after defeat at their hands. The “caps” were jubilant over this discomfiture and humiliation of the “hats” and forced them into a treaty of peace with Russia, which was disgraceful to Sweden, but which would have been even more hurtful if the Russian Empress had not for personal reasons offered very mild terms of peace. But one of these terms was that Adolphus Frederick of Holstein-Gottorp, whose father had been so shamefully cheated out of the Swedish succession in 1718, should be declared heir to the Swedish throne. The Reichsrath cheerfully accepted this condition, made all other concessions which the Russian Empress demanded, and ceded a part of Finland to the Russian crown. Peace between the two countries was restored by the treaty of Abo in 1743.

Conditions were not improved under the rule of the next King,--the said Adolphus Frederick of Holstein-Gottorp, who ascended the throne in 1751. The new King had married the younger sister of Frederick the Great of Prussia, but he had so little influence on the direction of the public policy of Sweden, both at home and abroad, that in the great European war which Frederick had to wage against the other powers, Sweden took sides against him by the dictation of the Reichsrath. In fact, the Reichsrath became more aggressive and arrogant from year to year. It interfered in the education of the royal princes. It presumed to attach the King’s signature to public documents after he had refused twice to sign them. The “caps” made an effort to strengthen the King’s authority by amending the constitution, but it failed, and resulted in a complete victory for the “hats.” The “hats” had it all their own way for a while. Under orders from the French government, and also out of hatred and contempt for the King, they declared war on the King of Prussia, and Sweden was, without any cause or provocation, drawn into the terrible Seven Years’ War, which resulted in the victory of Frederick the Great over all his enemies.

This disastrous result of the war caused the temporary overthrow of the “hats.” But the Russian faction, as soon as they had got control of the government, established a tyranny worse than that of their predecessors, so that the King, provoked to the utmost, threatened to resign and appeal to the people, unless a popular Diet should be called to establish the rights of the crown on a firm and more dignified basis. Under the strong pressure of public indignation the Diet was called; it restored to the crown part of the rights and prerogatives annulled by the Reichsrath and dismissed a number of those officials most hostile and objectionable to the King; but a proposition of the young, ingenious and ambitious Crown Prince--to change the constitution thoroughly, to reëstablish autocratic government in Sweden in order to renew an era of glory and prosperity for the unfortunate country--failed through the irresoluteness of the King. In 1771 the King died, and the Crown Prince ascended the throne under the name of Gustavus the Third.

The Crown Prince was at Paris, where he was paying the court a visit, when his father died. His presence in the French capital and his conversations with Choiseul, the able prime minister of Louis the Fifteenth, had strengthened and confirmed his own personal views about the necessity for a change in the government of Sweden and for a return to an absolutistic régime. He formally renewed the secret alliance between Sweden and France, receiving the promise of liberal subsidies from the French treasury in order to enable him to carry out his plans. He took with him to Sweden a large sum of money, which was, so to speak, the first instalment of the new subsidy. Moreover, Choiseul gave the young King, on his return trip to Sweden, an experienced and sagacious companion and adviser in the person of Count de Vergennes, who nominally was to take charge of the French embassy at Stockholm, but who in reality was to guide and assist Gustavus in his attempt to overthrow the constitution of the monarchy and to restore the absolute _régime_ of former days. The personality of Gustavus the Third was peculiarly fitted for the _rôle_ which he was to play in the great drama of a political revolution. He was young, enthusiastic, talented, eloquent, bold and chivalrous; he was a poet of considerable ability, and his political ideal was Louis the Fourteenth of France, whose majestic declaration: “The state? I am the state!” struck a sympathetic chord in his heart. Choiseul had found it an easy task to change the vague aspirations and dreams in the young King’s mind into a fixed determination to put an end to the oligarchic _régime_ of the nobility and to reëstablish absolute monarchy in its pristine glory. The art of dissimulation, of which he was a consummate master, and which he had practised with great success as Crown Prince in order to throw his instructors, who were mere tools of the Reichsrath, off their guard, served him admirably in perfecting the initiatory steps, and finally, when the proper time had come, for the successful execution of his _coup d’état_.

When Gustavus arrived at Stockholm, he found the Swedish Reichstag (the Diet) in session. It had recognized him, during his absence, as King, but the members were busily engaged in the discussion of a new constitution, which they insisted would be necessary for protecting the rights of the nobility against the usurpation of the King. The rights of the people and the prerogatives of the King were hardly thought of in this discussion, and the people were disgusted with the whole proceeding. So was the King, but he had shrewdness and self-control enough not to interfere with the work of the Diet; and when, after a hard-fought battle of eight months’ duration between the contending factions of the “hats” and the “caps,” the new constitution was finally completed and submitted to him for his signature, he readily signed it, without reading it, explaining his extraordinary readiness with the words “I have confidence enough in the patriotism and wisdom of the Reichstag to believe that they all have worked for the welfare of the state, and that my own rights were safe in their hands.”

In order to make this rather strange indifference on his part appear quite natural, he had lived most of the time at his country-seat, at some distance from Stockholm, surrounded by a few literary friends and writing comedies and poems, without paying the least attention to the political work going on at the capital. He came but rarely to Stockholm, but whenever he went, he took good care to insinuate himself into the good graces of the people. His natural eloquence and the fact that he was born in Sweden and spoke the Swedish language correctly, as well as his pleasant and affable manners, made him immensely popular with the common people, while at the same time his friends lost no opportunity to incite the people, and also the soldiery, against the nobility, whom they charged with having caused all the miseries from which the State, and especially the rural population, were suffering. Poor crops and great financial distress added to the popular dissatisfaction, and the royalist party did not fail to attribute these public calamities to the aristocracy’s injudicious administration; thus the people were thoroughly aroused for the impending battle between King and nobility.

In the Reichsrath the faction of the “caps” had succeeded in utterly defeating the faction of the “hats,” and driving all their adherents out of the public offices. The official slaughter and persecution of the “hats” was carried on so recklessly and injudiciously by the “caps” that even the Russian ambassador protested against their imprudence, which, he was afraid, might lead to a revolution that would overthrow both factions and place absolute power in the hands of the monarch. But the “caps,” in the intoxication of their victory, were too blind to see the danger; moreover, they felt absolutely safe because the King had sworn to obey and uphold the constitution, and the constitution deprived him of all power of action. Gustavus had so fully duped them that not even a suspicion of foul play arose in their minds. With masterly dissimulation and with marvellous strength of mind he waited in apparent indifference until the proper moment for action had come. His friends, however, had been very busy. They had won one hundred and fifty of the higher officers of the Stockholm garrison over to the King’s cause, and this acquisition placed practically the entire military power of the capital under his orders.

It had been arranged, however, that the first outbreak should not occur at Stockholm, but in another city. In compliance with this programme Captain Hellichius, a devoted friend of the King, and Commandant of the garrison of Christianstadt, on the twelfth of August, 1772, issued a manifesto, in which he fiercely denounced the pernicious administration of the Reichsrath, and called upon the inhabitants of Sweden to shake off the tyranny of the oligarchy which held both the King and the people in bondage. It had also been arranged that Prince Charles, the King’s brother, Commander of the troops in Scania, should immediately march, with the army under his command, toward Christianstadt, ostensibly for the purpose of suppressing the revolt, but really for the purpose of swelling the ranks of the malcontents. When this news reached Stockholm, some of the members of the Reichsrath suspected that the King was implicated, but he feigned absolute ignorance of the matter, and deceived his enemies so well that they left him alone. Prompt action on their part, in arresting and guarding the person of the King, would very likely have quelled the revolt at the very outset. But the King was so powerless that he preferred to wait for news from Christianstadt announcing the success of the movement before resorting to active measures which might have caused the failure of the whole plan.

Only when the Reichsrath ordered the troops of the whole country to be concentrated at the capital, and also ordered Prince Charles to turn over his command to a general who was strictly in sympathy with the existing condition of things, the King thought the time for him to act had come, and he hesitated no longer. It was the nineteenth of August, 1772, and Gustavus knew that that day was to decide not only the success or failure of his intended _coup d’état_, but very likely also his life or death, his honor or disgrace. In taking the offensive so promptly, the King showed great personal bravery and courage, and made good his claim to be a God-given leader of men. At an early hour he went to the Assembly Room, where the Reichsrath was already in session. At a glance he saw that the prevailing sentiment was hostile to him. No sooner had he taken his seat than one of the members in a rather insolent tone asked him whether he had not received a letter during the night from Christianstadt, and on receiving an affirmative answer, demanded that the King should communicate the letter to the Reichsrath. The King refused to deliver the letter, stating that it was private, and expressed indignation at the disrespectful request. A general murmur arose among the members, and voices were heard saying that it might be advisable to arrest the King. He hurriedly arose from his seat, and placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, as if ready to kill the first one who should stand in his way, he passed through the seats of the Senators with head erect and haughty mien.

None dared oppose him, and he proceeded directly to the armory, where two regiments of the Royal Guard were drawn up in line under the command of officers devoted to him. He addressed them in an eloquent speech, promising to restore the kingdom to its previous proud position among the nations and make the army again a source of honor to the Swedes and of terror to its enemies, such as it had been in the great days of Gustavus Adolphus. The officers and the men cheered him enthusiastically, and declared they would follow him to death or wherever he would lead them. Not only the soldiers in the city, but thousands of armed citizens gathered around him shouting, “Down with the nobility! Down with the Reichsrath! Long live the King!” He mounted his horse and at the head of this enthusiastic army proceeded to the State House, where the Reichsrath was still in session, devising means to bring the King to terms. The troops were so placed as to make it impossible for the members of the Reichsrath to leave the building. The King, flushed with the excitement of victory, with his flashing sword drawn, and surrounded by a few of the most popular officers and citizens, rode through the streets, harangued the people on the public squares, and carried them away by his eloquence and chivalrous appearance. It was a personal triumph, which he relished to its fullest extent, and which gave assurance of the complete success of his plans for constitutional reform.

The revolution which Gustavus the Third had inaugurated so boldly at Stockholm proved a complete success. The common people flocked to him in great numbers; the women and girls offered him flowers and bouquets, and threw kisses to him; the men knelt down and, with tears of joy in their eyes, kissed his boots or his hands, blessing him as the savior of his country, and calling the blessings of Heaven down upon his head. Surrounded by thousands of enthusiastic adherents, he rode to the City Hall, where the municipal authorities were already assembled, and received from them the assurance of their unconditional allegiance and loyalty. The same ovation and enthusiastic demonstration greeted him at the palace of the Board of Admiralty. Not a shot was fired, not a sword was drawn, not a drop of human blood was shed to overcome opposition to the royal plan of changing the government and to end the rule of the nobility. Never before in history had a revolution been so quickly, so successfully accomplished; never before had a government in the full possession of all public powers been so suddenly and so successfully overthrown as in this instance. The _coup d’état_ was a masterstroke of public policy which gave Gustavus a wonderful prestige throughout Europe. Even the English and Russian ambassadors, who were most interested in the contemplated change of government, and who might have raised obstacles to the King’s autocratic action, were disarmed entirely by a courteous invitation to the royal palace, where they were entertained in the most pleasant manner until the whole excitement was over and Gustavus the Third in complete possession of the government. On the day following, the war department and all the high state officials made haste to swear obedience to the King. The citizens of the capital were called together on the public square and the King addressed them again, this time in the full splendor of triumphant royalty and surrounded by all the high dignitaries of the kingdom, telling them, amid their enthusiastic shouts and applause, that he considered it his greatest glory to be the first citizen of a free nation. He then took out of his pocket the new constitution prepared by him and read it to them in his clear and melodious voice. Renewed shouts and boisterous applause rewarded him when he had concluded.

But the part most difficult for him remained to be done,--to get the assent of the States. They were convened for the next day, August 21, and in ordering them to appear, the King had added that any member not appearing in his seat on that day would be treated as a traitor. During the night preceding the meeting of the States a strong detachment of soldiers and artillery was placed in a position commanding the State House. When the King appeared and sat down on the throne his eye looked upon a hall well filled. The most profound silence reigned when he got up and read the constitution in a clear and firm voice. He supplemented the reading with a very eloquent and patriotic speech, in which he referred to the degradation and contempt to which the monarchy had been reduced by the incapacity, venality and corruption of the government and of the nobility. He painted this government and the disgrace it had brought upon Sweden in the darkest colors, and then added, in a voice trembling with emotion: “If there is any one among you who thinks that I am misstating facts or exaggerating the disgraceful condition of our public affairs, I challenge him to contradict me, and to state here in the presence of all in what respect I have misrepresented the administration of the Reichsrath. I vow to God Almighty that I shall devote all my energy to the task of restoring the welfare of my beloved country and the happiness of its inhabitants, and I know of no other way to accomplish these results than by the change of the constitution as I have read it to you.” Then turning to the members individually, he asked whether they were in favor of sanctioning the proposed change. They all answered in the affirmative and swore the oath of allegiance. Thereupon the King drew from his pocket a hymn-book, and removing the crown from his head, he began to sing the “Te Deum Laudamus,” in which they all joined him. Gustavus had won again in the most perilous stage of the dangerous game he was playing.

The new constitution which had been adopted reinstated the King in all those rights and prerogatives which his ancestors had possessed up to the death of Charles the Twelfth. He was the commander of the army and navy; the revenues of the state were to be under his exclusive care; he disposed arbitrarily of all offices, civil and military; he alone had the right to negotiate treaties and alliances; he had unlimited power to conduct a war of defence, but for foreign wars he needed the consent of the States; he alone had the right to convene the Congress, and the Congress was not to transact other business than was submitted to it by the crown; the Reichsrath was subordinate to the King; it became merely an advisory board, and its decisions were not of binding force. It was a constitution which the Emperor of Russia might have subscribed to.

While Gustavus had, by his boldness and eloquence, secured the success of his _coup d’état_ at Stockholm, his brothers travelled through the different provinces, promulgated the new constitution, and were everywhere welcomed enthusiastically. Gustavus himself made during the winter months of the same year the traditional tour of the old kings through the kingdom even to the farthest borders of Norway--the old riksgata--and exactly in the same manner as the old kings had done--on horseback. Wherever he went he was only escorted by the inhabitants of the neighborhood, whom he delighted by his affability, his nobility of soul and his eloquence. He seemed to have no enemies and needed no soldiers to protect him. These were the golden days of his reign. The two parties which had so bitterly fought for supremacy had been wiped out by his victory. The “hats” and the “caps” were heard of no more, and Sweden seemed to be in a fair way of entering upon a new era of greatness and prosperity.

Tempting as the task may be for the historian to go into the details of the life of the extraordinary man who, endowed by nature with talents of a high order, rose to the heights of human glory and then abruptly fell by reason of his own folly, we must forego this pleasure and confine ourselves to a rapid sketch of the events which led Gustavus the Third slowly to the terrible tragedy of his assassination. It would seem almost incredible that a prince so popular and so idolized by his people as Gustavus was on the morning of his _coup d’état_ could in the course of a few years so utterly lose the confidence of his people and forfeit their love as to make the execution of the conspiracy against his life even possible. But it must be admitted that this loss of popularity and esteem was, in part at least, caused by grave faults of the King, which, with reckless audacity, he committed again and again, while the general loss of royal prestige and authority throughout Europe as a consequence of the French Revolution of 1789 had also a great deal to do with it.

During the first years after the _coup d’état_ general satisfaction seemed to prevail throughout the country; the common people felt relieved of many unnecessary burdens, while the nobility, who had been so utterly routed, kept silent in the consciousness of their weakness. Many measures of reform, calculated to promote the national prosperity, were initiated by the personal agency of the King. The currency, which was in a deplorable condition, was put on a sounder basis; many benevolent institutions--hospitals, orphan asylums, poor-houses, etc.--were established; the public highways were improved; large canals connecting with the seacoast the mines of the kingdom (which were among its most important industries) were constructed; trade and industry were assisted according to the prevailing theories of those times; free trade, both at home and with foreign countries, was established; privileges and franchises which oppressed the people at large for the benefit of the few were abolished; both the criminal and the civil code of laws were revised and improved; strict impartiality in the application of laws and in the punishment of criminals was insisted upon; the torture, which up to that time had played an important part in criminal trials, was done away with, and a more humane treatment of convicts was introduced in prisons and penitentiaries. Gustavus was in this respect a disciple of Montesquieu and Beccaria. His great ambition was also to renew the ties of friendship and brotherhood between Finland and Sweden, and in order to do so, he personally visited Finland, and established there a number of valuable reforms which are gratefully remembered by that unfortunate country to the present day.

But highly commendable and worthy of admiration as the young King’s action was in these and many other respects, the defects of his character soon appeared, and gave his enemies an opportunity to undermine his work and his popularity. He lacked steadiness and firmness of purpose. He wanted to see and enjoy immediately the beneficent results of his reforms. Many of them were therefore abandoned before they had had time for full development; many very costly undertakings were discontinued because the King had either changed his mind or was tired of waiting. And then, he was extravagant in his personal expenses and in arranging grand court entertainments fashioned on the brilliant festivities of the French court at Versailles, which remained his model in all matters of court etiquette and royal display. Like Frederick the Great, to whom Gustavus the Third bears in many respects a striking resemblance, although he lacked the great Prussian’s military genius and wise frugality, he was fond of French literature and art, and made strenuous efforts to give them a supreme place in the educational institutions of the kingdom. The national genius of the Swedish people and language were consequently relegated to a secondary place. To make up for the unpopularity and protests which these efforts caused among the people, he devised a national costume for all the inhabitants; but in this attempt he failed entirely. The costume he had devised was copied from an ancient Spanish one, and utterly unsuitable for a northern country of short summers and severe winters. The King’s ordinances introducing these Spanish garments were openly disobeyed and laughed at. People began to look on him as a dreamer, and lost their respect for him.

But that which more than anything else hurt his popularity was the way in which he treated the liquor question. The mass of the Swedish people were strongly addicted to the excessive use of intoxicating liquors. The vice had assumed such proportions that measures of reform were urgently called for. But, with the usual impracticability of temperance reformers, Gustavus managed the matter so unskilfully that, instead of correcting the abuse, he made himself highly unpopular and aroused the most stubborn resistance to his reform policy. He had issued an edict prohibiting the manufacture and use of distilled liquors, but he found it impossible to enforce the edict: the peasants and farmers, who had been distilling their own whiskey, simply ignored it, while in a number of cities where distilleries were maintained for the manufacture and sale of the liquor, regular battles were fought between the police trying to suppress them, and the inhabitants enraged at the attempt to close them. Gustavus then repealed the edict and introduced a new system, which he hoped would at once diminish the vice of drunkenness and replenish his treasury, which was in a chronic state of exhaustion. He made the right of manufacturing and selling alcoholic liquors a crown monopoly, and established agencies for the sale of these liquors in all large and small cities and towns of the kingdom. But the peasants were not satisfied with this arrangement either. The whiskey they were to buy at the agencies was much dearer than their own home-distilled beverage; moreover, the towns and cities, at that time only thinly scattered over Sweden, were often so remote from the farms, and the roads leading to them were often in such an impassable condition that the purchase of whiskey was a difficult matter for the rural population. The clandestine and illicit manufacture of the beverage was carried on therefore as it had been before. But the very name of the King became odious to the people. They contemptuously called him “a crank, a visionary and a poet.” Writing poetry, in which Gustavus excelled, was in their eyes a symptom of folly and madness.

The hostility of the nobles and their rebellious spirit, which had been overawed and silenced for some years by the great personal popularity of the King, reappeared and gained ground with the disaffection of the people, and especially of the rural population. For a King like Gustavus the Third, ambitious and high-spirited, military glory had a tempting attraction, and he had commenced soon after his successful _coup d’état_ to prepare for winning it. The army was in a really deplorable condition at the time of his accession to the throne, being entirely without artillery and deficient in equipment. Gustavus lost no time in remedying these defects. He modelled the Swedish army after the Prussian army as reorganized by Frederick the Great, which was then considered the finest and best equipped in Europe, and within two years he had made it, with its splendid personnel and its modern material, a formidable machine of war, which, under the leadership of a military genius, might have renewed the great days of Gustavus Adolphus or Charles the Twelfth. But it was the ambition of Gustavus the Third to command the army himself, and he was not a military genius. He declared war upon Russia, with the intention of recovering the lost provinces of Finland, and proceeded to Finland himself in order to take command of the invading army.

It was there that the first misfortune overtook him. After a few engagements,--rather skirmishes than battles,--in which the Swedes were victorious, the King decided to invest or take by assault the small fortress of Frederickshamm. It would have been better for him if he had marched directly upon Petersburg, which was not in a condition to resist an immediate attack of a superior army. If he had done so, very likely the Esths, first cousins of the Finns, and anxious to shake off the yoke of Russia, would have joined him and would have placed him in possession of the Russian borderland; but Gustavus frittered away the time and by his inactivity enabled the commanders of his own regiments (generally appointed from the ranks of the high nobility) to organize a conspiracy against him and virtually drive him from the field. Very likely bribed with Russian gold, they jointly issued a manifesto that Gustavus had violated the constitution of Sweden by declaring war upon Russia without the consent of the Reichsrath, and they were therefore not bound to obey him in this criminal undertaking. They also used their influence on the other officers and on the soldiers of their regiments, and made them rebellious against the King’s commands. In vain Gustavus implored them not to abandon him and the cause of their country; but they were deaf to his prayers and to his threats, and he left the army as a humiliated and disgraced commander.

Upon his return to Stockholm, he made a journey through Dalecarlia, the province in which his ancestor Gustavus Vasa had found the followers who raised him to the throne; he used his extraordinary eloquence so successfully that the people again rallied round him. They swore to stand by him in his struggle against Russia, and not to lay down arms until a peace honorable to Sweden could be secured. Gustavus then convened the Reichstag for the twenty-sixth of January, 1789, in order to get authority to continue the war and restore his kingly prerogatives, which by the revolt of the army had been so signally impaired. The nobility at last openly threw off the mask; but they were overpowered by the three other estates, who would rather strengthen the King’s authority than return to their former condition of bondage under the _régime_ of a corrupt and arrogant nobility. The Reichstag therefore fully sustained the King’s action, taking the view that the offensive war against Russia was really a war of defence.

Sufficient appropriations were made to carry on the war to a successful end, and thirty prominent members of the nobility were indicted for treason and _lèse majesté_, and punished severely. At the same time an important revision of the constitution was made in the interest of the King, and, in spite of the violent protests of the nobility, his prerogatives were largely extended. The Reichsrath was entirely abolished, and the King authorized to declare war on other countries whenever war was deemed advisable to protect the interests of the country. He also obtained the absolute right to appoint all military and civil officers, while formerly many of these appointments had to be confirmed by the Reichsrath. After having thus secured the rights of the crown at home, Gustavus departed again for the seat of war, with new regiments and new commanders. Russia had also strengthened herself, and what might at first have been an easy undertaking, and might have led to a brilliant success, was now a very serious one, and one of very uncertain chances of success. It soon became evident that the results of the war would depend on the naval supremacy of either of the two powers, and all efforts were therefore directed on both sides toward strengthening their navies.

Several big naval battles were fought, and in all of them the King, who personally commanded his fleet, performed wonders of valor. The last of these battles was that of Swenskasund on the ninth of July, 1790; and the King, who fought with the bravery of despair because the fleet of the Russians was considerably superior in numbers to his own, won a brilliant victory. No less than fifty-nine Russian warships, carrying altogether six hundred and forty-three guns, fell into the hands of the Swedes. But even more than this great material success was the prestige which Gustavus derived from the victory. He was tired of the war, and he could now as a victorious hero offer terms of peace, honorable and advantageous to his country, instead of humbly accepting terms from Russia. On the fourteenth of August, 1790, a treaty of peace was concluded by which, while Sweden did not receive any territorial indemnity, she secured rights and trade privileges in the Baltic Sea which Russia until then had denied her. The honors of the war were therefore on Sweden’s side, and the King personally, for his unquestioned heroism, was entitled to a liberal share of them.

On the other hand, the results of the war were disastrous for the country, and the King was by his enemies, the nobility (who were more bitterly opposed to him than ever), held responsible for these disasters. The heavy expenditures for the war had necessitated extraordinary tax levies which were burdensome to the whole people, rich as well as poor, and these could not be abolished immediately on the termination of the war. The brilliant festivities, balls and entertainments, which greeted the King on his return to his capital, could not fully conceal the great distress and poverty of the people; but with that levity which was a conspicuous feature of his character and which gave him such a mental resemblance to Marie Antoinette, whom he greatly admired, he tried to forget in the intoxication of incessant amusements and pleasures the personal privations he had suffered during the war and the sorrows and wants of the nation. That this conduct, which he did not care to conceal from the public eye, irritated the people and filled many of those who had been his admirers with disgust and hatred may easily be imagined. But that by which he gave the greatest blow to his popularity was his active and over-zealous sympathy in the misfortunes of Louis the Sixteenth and his Queen, Marie Antoinette, and his efforts to release them from captivity and save them from death.

Gustavus showed his lack of political sagacity in estranging the very element upon which he had founded his autocratic power,--the great mass of the people. Their devotion had made it possible for him, not only to continue the war against Russia, but also to be more than a mere figure-head in the government of his kingdom. The support of the nobility he had lost beyond redemption. They hated him, and only hoped for opportunities to humiliate him. All efforts on his part to reconcile them failed. His true policy should have been to ingratiate himself still more with the people, relieve their burdens, make the laws and institutions more liberal, and carry out the promise he had made to them, that he wanted to be clothed with supreme power in order to make the nation more happy and the country more prosperous. But his character did not permit him to pursue this policy dictated by common-sense. The French Revolution had broken out, and the misfortunes of the French King and Queen enlisted his profound sympathy. He watched the progress of the revolution with eager interest, and when it became apparent that Louis could not master it, he formed the adventurous and fantastic plan of placing himself at the head of a large army, composed of contingents of all the European powers, and restoring absolute monarchy in France, as he had restored absolute monarchy in Sweden. In order to realize that dream which corresponded so well to his visionary, chivalrous, poetical temperament, he opened negotiations with Russia, Prussia, Austria, and especially with the French _émigrés_. These men had assembled in Germany and other countries waiting for an opportunity to return to France under the standards of some friendly power coming to the rescue of Louis the Sixteenth and monarchical institutions. Gustavus had tried his best to assist the French King in his flight from Paris. It was a Swedish carriage, with Swedish attendants, which was to convey Louis the Sixteenth and the royal family beyond the borders of France, and which was so abruptly stopped at Varennes. After this attempt at flight had failed, Gustavus saw no other means of saving the monarchy--not only in France, but throughout Europe--than by making war upon the Jacobins, stamping out the Revolution in the blood of its adherents, and seating Louis the Sixteenth in the full glory of absolutism once more on the throne. The execution of this plan, he imagined, would immortalize him, and would make him in effect the dictator of Europe.

The Reichstag of Gefle, which was opened January 25, 1792, had already greatly disappointed and incensed him, because it had unanimously rejected his demand for an appropriation of ten million dollars which he needed for his new undertaking. The utter disregard of his wishes and the contempt with which his urgent appeals were ignored by the lower order, which had so firmly stood by him in the Reichstag of 1789, showed also his great unpopularity; and the nobility thought that the time had come for striking a bold blow not only to get rid of him, but also to reinstate themselves in power. As we have seen, the moment was very opportune. The public debt was enormous; the distress was general; vague rumors of another war, not against an enemy, but against the rights of the people, were in the air. Then the conspiracy was formed. There were five principal conspirators; and they all belonged to the highest nobility. While some of them had personal grievances, not one of them would have thought of raising his hand against the King, unless a much more important object had been in view. These five were Ankarström, who had already been among the rebellious officers in Finland, Count Ribbing, Count Horn, Count Liliehorn and Baron Pechlin.

The mainspring of the conspiracy was the hope of overthrowing the autocratic system of government, and reinstating the nobility in all its prerogatives. At first the conspirators did not want to resort to murder, but they hoped to be able to abduct the King, compel him to resign, and then to extort from his successor the recognition of those rights and privileges of which Gustavus the Third had deprived them. Having made two or three attempts in that direction, they changed their plan, and concluded that the easiest and safest way to accomplish their aim would be to assassinate the King.

Ankarström volunteered to shoot the King at one of the popular masked balls, which he was in the habit of visiting, and at which he freely mingled with the other visitors. Twice he failed to recognize Gustavus. But the last masquerade of the season at Stockholm was to come off on Friday, March 16, 1792, and Ankarström resolved to make a last effort to strike his victim. And he did, although Gustavus was warned that very evening by one of the conspirators (Count Liliehorn) that it would be dangerous for him to go to the ball, for an attempt would be made on his life. The ball was to come off at the Grand Opera House, and an immense crowd was expected. Four of the conspirators--Pechlin, Ankarström, Horn and Ribbing--took supper together, and afterwards went to the theatre. They wore black dominoes of a uniform pattern, to be able to recognize each other easily. On the other hand, Gustavus had taken supper with one of his closest friends, Count Essen, in a little private room arranged for his use at the theatre itself. During this supper, at ten o’clock in the evening, an anonymous letter was handed to him, written in French and with a lead pencil. The author revealed the whole plot, which, as he asserted, he had learned only during the afternoon. He implored the King not to go to the ball, and to change his conduct and his policy if he wanted to escape assassination. He confessed having opposed the King’s autocratic measures and his _coup d’état_, which he considered illegal and unconstitutional. But, being a man of honor, as he said, the very idea of murder was horrid to him, and he therefore again implored the King to keep away from the ball. This note came from Count Liliehorn. Gustavus read it twice very attentively; but he did not say a word about its contents. He quietly completed his supper and then, accompanied by Count Essen, he proceeded to his box, where he was plainly to be seen by all. It was then only that he showed the note to his companion, who also implored him not to go on the floor among the dancers. Gustavus said he would hereafter put on a coat of mail before going to such places of amusement, but he insisted on going on the floor. They thereupon left the box, put on light dominoes and descended to the floor, which was crowded with a throng of brilliant, gay and grotesque masks.

The King had taken Essen’s arm, and while passing through the stage scenery said to him: “Now let us see whether they’ll dare attack me!” Although he wore a face-mask, the dancers whispered to each other: “There is the King!” Gustavus made the tour of the ball-room without stopping; then he stepped into the green-room in order to rest a moment; but on leaving, he found himself surrounded by a group of black dominoes, one of whom (it was Count Horn) laid his hand on the King’s shoulder, saying: “Good-evening, my beautiful masquerader!” These words were the signal. At the same moment Ankarström fired a shot from his pistol, which had been wrapped up in raw wool in order to weaken the detonation, and the shot was heard by but a few persons. Gustavus exclaimed in a loud voice: “I am wounded! Arrest the assassin!” At the same time loud cries: “Fire! Fire! Leave the hall!” resounded from different parts of the building, and a great confusion followed. In the panic there was a general rush toward the doors, and all the conspirators would have escaped, but for the presence of mind of Count Armfeld, who ordered the doors to be closed, and assuring the tumultuous crowd that there was no fire, but that a great crime had been committed, ordered all the dancers and visitors to take off their masks. The conspirators nevertheless managed to escape immediate discovery by their very audacity, although they attracted attention and suspicion. As he passed through the door, Ankarström with a haughty smile said to the officer: “I hope you do not suspect me?” “On the contrary,” replied the officer, “I am sure you are the assassin!” but before he could stop him, Ankarström had passed out. He was, however, arrested the next morning, and also Liliehorn, who had sent the anonymous note to the King. Counts Horn and Ribbing were arrested a few days later, and Baron Pechlin some time afterwards.

Gustavus the Third was the only one who had kept his presence of mind during the tremendous confusion. Essen, covered with the King’s blood, had rather carried than conducted him first to one of the private boxes and thence to a small adjoining parlor with a sofa, where he could lie down. The King was the one who directed what measures were to be taken in the grave situation. He ordered the gates of the city to be closed and the Duke of Sodermanland to be sent for. As soon as the surgeons had applied the necessary bandages, he was conveyed to the royal palace, and issued, with perfect self-command, orders for the appointment of those officials who during his illness should conduct the affairs of the kingdom. The King himself ascribed the assault to the influence of the Jacobins of Paris, and the murderers eagerly circulated this rumor, in order to mislead public opinion. However, after Ankarström had been arrested and made a confession, there could no longer be any doubt as to the motives which were at the bottom of the conspiracy. Public opinion took the cue immediately.

From the very moment of the assassination the people of Stockholm seemed to be delirious with grief. During the thirteen days of his agony all the King’s mistakes and faults, which quite recently had been magnified into crimes and atrocities, were forgotten; there was but one voice of sympathy and affection for him and of condemnation for his assassins. All the good and chivalrous qualities of Gustavus reappeared during the illness preceding his death. When the public indignation threatened the families of the conspirators, he immediately began to plead eloquently for them and wished them to be protected. When delegations of the municipalities of Stockholm and other cities were admitted to his presence to assure him of the unfaltering loyalty of their cities to him and the royal family, he shed tears of gratitude, and told them that such proofs of loyalty were not too dearly purchased at the price of a serious and possibly fatal wound. When old Count Brahe, one of the leaders of the opposition in the Reichstag, knelt down at his bedside and swore to him that he was a stranger to the conspiracy and condemned it with horror, Gustavus raised him to his feet and embraced him, weak as he was, and told him with tearful eyes that he blessed his wound, because it had reconciled him with a friend so valued and noble-hearted. When his brother showed him a list of all those who had been ferreted out as accessories to the crime, he refused to look at it, and implored his brother to destroy it so that no further bloodshed might result. When some one in his presence swore bloody vengeance on the conspirators, he interfered in their behalf, adding: “If Ankarström is to die, then let there be mercy at least for the others! One victim is enough!” At first it looked as though he would get well. His conversation, fluent and logical, at times even brilliant and eloquent, was taken as proof that his vitality had not been exhausted, and that his excellent constitution would carry him safely through this terrible ordeal. But late on the twelfth day after the assault, he grew worse, and began to sink rapidly. The change came so suddenly that even the physicians were surprised, and suspected foul play. But nothing has ever come to light to give confirmation to that suspicion.

Thus ended, most sadly and prematurely, one of the most brilliant careers of the eighteenth century,--that of a man of splendid attainments, who lacked perhaps depth, and certainly application, to become one of the greatest men of his age and century; a man of noble, chivalrous character, who had placed his ideals of human greatness unfortunately in the splendid and brilliant outside of things instead of their solid, substantial and imperishable worth.