e put it from him. Scarce eight months had passed since he hid
under the bridge, hunted and starving. When Stockholm had fallen
after a siege of two years and all Sweden was free, the people met
(1523) and made him King, whether or no. He still objected, but gave
in at last and was crowned.

Popular favor is fickle. Hard times came that were not made easier
by Gustav's determination to fill the royal coffers, and the very
Dalecarlians who had put him in the high seat rose against him and
served notice that if things did not mend they would have none of
him. Gustav made sure that they had no backing elsewhere, then went
up and persuaded them to be good by cutting off the heads of their
leaders, who both happened to be priests: one was even a bishop. He
had been taught in a school that always found an axe ready to hand.
Let those who lament the savagery of modern warfare consider what
happened then to a Danish fleet that tried to bring relief to
hard-pressed Stockholm. It was beaten in a fight in which six
hundred men were taken prisoners. They were all, say the accounts,
"tied hand and foot and flung overboard amid the beating of drums
and blowing of trumpets to drown their cries." The clergy fared
little better than the laymen in that age, but then it was their own
fault. In plotting and scrapping they were abreast of the worst and
took the consequences.

They were the days of the Reformation, and Gustav would not have
been human had he failed to see a way out of his money troubles by
confiscating church property. He had pawned the country's trade to
the merchants of Luebeck and there was nothing else left. Naturally
the church opposed him. The King took the bull by the horns. He
called a meeting and told the people that he was sick of it all. He
had encouraged the Reformation for their good; now, if they did not
stand by him, they might choose between him and his enemies. The
oldest priest arose at that and said that the church's property was
sacred. The King asked if the rest of them thought the same way.
Only one voice was raised, and to say yes.

"Then," said Gustav, "I don't want to be your King any more. If it
does not rain, you blame me; if the sun does not shine, you do the
same. It is always so. All of you want to be masters. After all my
trouble and labor for you, you would as lief see my head split with
an axe, though none of you dare lay hold of the handle. Give me back
what I have spent in your service