n first to Oerebro. But
the journey over the ice and snow at the dead of winter so aggravated
his wound that it was clear to all he could take no further part in
carrying on the war. He gave orders therefore to be removed to
Stockholm, where he might be under the tender care and sympathy of his
wife. It was God's will, however, that he should never see her more. On
the 2d of February, when almost within sight of the castle walls, he
died; and the loved one for whose sympathy he had longed was given
nothing but her husband's lifeless corpse.[39] They buried of him all
that earth could bury; but his undaunted spirit remained still among his
people, cheering them in their misfortunes, and ever calling upon them
to resist the hand of the oppressor. Sten Sture's character is one which
draws forth a warmth of sentiment such as can be felt for no other
character of his time. Living in an age when hypocrisy was looked upon
with honor, and when falsehood was deemed a vice only when unsuccessful,
he showed in all his dealings, whether with friends or foes, a steadfast
integrity of purpose with an utter ignorance of the art of
dissimulation. Not a stain can history fix upon his memory. Highly
gifted as a statesman, courageous on the field of battle, ever courteous
in diplomacy, and warm and sympathetic in the bosom of his family, his
figure stands forth as one of the shining examples of the height to
which human character can attain. It is with a sigh we leave him, and
turn again to trace the history of his people.

Grim ruin now stared the patriot army in the face. Bereft of the only
person who seemed competent to guide them, beaten at every point,
without arms or provisions, and with a horde of trained and well-armed
soldiers at their heels, the fleeing patriots came straggling into
Strengnaes on the Maelar. Hubbub and confusion reigned supreme. Many of
the magnates counselled immediate surrender. Others, somewhat more loyal
to their country, raised a timid voice in favor of continuing the war,
but no one ventured to come forth and lead his fellow-countrymen against
the foe. Thus they frittered away the precious moments while the Danes
were getting ready for another onset. All this time there was one brave
heart still beating for them in the capital. The regent's widow, nothing
daunted by her own calamity or by the disasters that had come upon her
husband's people, kept sending messengers one after another to implore
them to uni