When Gustavus Adolphus died, Axel Oxenstierna was left to handle several thorny issues. One of the thorniest was what to do with the king’s widow Maria Eleonora. Oxenstierna wanted her to disappear from political life and into the footnotes of history. The dowager queen herself had other plans.

Christian IV was a real family man. In fact, he had multiple families. He was married twice, and had a string of mistresses to boot. He had at least 12 children, and he used them to solidify his rule. It didn’t always work, though. To put it mildly.

In the late 1630s, tensions were once again rising between Denmark and Sweden. The Danish king was spoiling for a war, and in 1643 he got it. But not in the way he’d expected. Or wanted. Still, the conflict is remembered as Christian IV’s finest hour.

The Swedes spent the early 1640s trying to win the war, but even if they were successful on the battlefield, every campaign season seemed to end with them retreating north with an Imperial army in pursuit.

After the death of Gustavus Adolphus, his trusted advisor and chancellor Axel Oxenstierna was left to pick up the pieces. In the years that followed, he worked tirelessly to avoid a total collapse of the Swedish positions on the continent. It was not an easy job.

1632 was a year of victories and triumphs for the Swedes. They moved through the Holy Roman Empire capturing everything in their way. In the fall, they were back where they had started a year earlier, on a muddy field outside Leipzig, ready to fight a new Imperial army.

In September 1631, the Swedish and the Imperial armies finally stood face to face. The battle took place just north of Leipzig, close to the village of Breitenfeld. It turned out to be the ultimate test for the new Swedish military tactics.

Most German Protestants weren’t particularly happy about the Swedish intervention in the Thirty Years’ War. But Gustavus Adolphus didn’t care. He had come to save them–whether they wanted to or not.

After the wars in Russia and Poland finally started to wind down, the thrill-junkie on the Swedish throne decided he also wanted to try his luck playing the role of Savior of German Protestants.

Encouraged by his success in the war against Sweden, Christian IV decided to get involved in the developing conflict in the Holy Roman Empire. He was convinced that a military genius like him would be able to save his Protestant coreligionists from the Catholic threat.

Christian IV of Denmark wanted to prove that he was a proper king. So he started a war against Sweden to win glory and, hopefully, reestablish the Kalmar Union.

When John III died, his son Sigismund took over as king of Sweden. Sigismund was already king of Poland, so he already had some relevant experience. Still, there were two problems: Sigismund was a Catholic, and his uncle Karl really wanted the crown.

As soon as the war with Denmark was over, Sweden got itself involved in a new conflict with Russia. The war started because king John refused to give up his wife or Estonia to the Russians. He also refused to accept the Reformation.

In 1568, Erik XIV of Sweden had never felt better. He had recovered from his temporary madness, he had chased off an invading Danish army and he had married the woman he loved. The future looked bright. At least if you weren’t looking too closely.

In the spring of 1567, Erik XIV had a bit of a breakdown. The war was going poorly, and his spies and his trusted advisor Jöran Persson were feeding him information about a conspiracy among the nobility. The king decided that something needed to be done.

The Nordic Seven Years’ War lasted (spoiler!) seven years. The war ended when the combatants ran out of steam and money. There was no clear winner. There were, however, plenty of clear losers.

In the early 1560s, two inexperienced but ambitious monarchs had succeeded their fathers on the Danish and Swedish thrones. They happened to be cousins, but that didn’t stop them from spoiling for a fight over Scandinavian supremacy.

Gustav Vasa fought to establish his family as the ruling dynasty of Sweden, and to make the House of Vasa respected as equals among other European royal houses. That was often an uphill battle, and sometimes Gustav’s efforts were even undermined by members of his own family.

We interrupt our regular programming for a special episode about the surprise abdication of Queen Margaret II of Denmark.

Gustav Vasa was the Swedish king who had to deal with the largest number of peasant rebellions. In the 1540s, he was also faced with the largest peasant rebellion of all time–at least in Scandinavia. He handled it like he always did, with skillful diplomacy, shrewd politics and overwhelming, brute force.

Even though the Lutheran Reformation was relatively moderate in Sweden to begin with, Gustav Vasa’s religious and financial reforms still provoked a number of rebellions with fanciful names throughout the country.

Unlike his Danish counterpart, Gustav Vasa wasn’t particularly interested in the Lutheran Reformation. At least not to begin with. But when he realized he could solve his money problems by confiscating Church property, Lutheranism started to sound much more interesting to the heavily indebted king of Sweden.

When Christian III became king of Denmark, he implemented the Lutheran Reformation in his new kingdom. He fired all the Catholic bishops, replaced them with Lutherans and confiscated Church property, making the Crown immensely rich and powerful. The process was surprisingly undramatic. In Denmark. In Norway and Iceland, there was plenty of drama.

In the 1530s, Denmark was plagued by a civil war brought on by a combination of rivaling claimants for the crown, and a growing rift between Catholics and Protestants. Ex-king Christian was still causing trouble, and Frederick I wasn’t secure on his throne. When he died, the fighting only intensified.

The coronation in Stockholm had only just ended when another rebellion broke out, threatening Christian II’s Swedish crown. The business with the bloodbath had turned many in the Swedish nobility against the king, but regular people joined the uprising because he also raised taxes and forbade them from carrying weapons.

In November 1520, Christian II was crowned king of Sweden. He celebrated this momentous event with a string of feasts and festivities that went on for days. But when it turned out that archbishop Gustav Trolle wasn’t willing to turn the other cheek, things got a bit out of hand.

Christian II wasn’t going to stop until he had conquered Sweden and re-established the Kalmar Union. Two years in a row, he equipped a fleet and paid for an expensive army of foreign mercenaries, and both times the Swedes fought them off. Even though the nobles grumbled at home and he was seriously strapped for cash, Christian made a third attempt. This time over land.

It's been 500 years since the Kalmar Union collapsed and Sweden became an independent kingdom again. The Scandinavian History Podcast marks the occasion with this Special Crossover Jubilee Episode together with A Flatpack History of Sweden.

Christian may have become king after his father John, but when he refused to give up his mistress, both the Danish nobles and his wife’s family started to send him barely veiled threats. Threats Christian chose to ignore.

When the Swedish steward Sten Sture died, this could have caused chaos in Sweden, creating an opening for king John to recapture the kingdom he’d recently lost. But the dead Steward’s inner circle kept his death secret until a successor could be elected. Eventually, John lost his patience and sent his son Christian to deal with the Swedes like he had already handled the Norwegians.

King John inherited his father’s three crowns, as well as the headache brought on by the Swedish one. But thanks to a bit of scheming with the Russians, he managed to get the Swedes to yield. At least for about five minutes.

The Swedes kept teasing King Christian, saying that they kind of sort of wanted him back–if he’d only hand over his power to the Swedish Council of the Realm. Christian refused, thinking he’d be able to force the Swedes to accept him as king. After all, no country can cope without a king. Right?

Christian of Oldenburg eventually won the power struggle against Karl Knutsson Bonde, and Karl had to give up his crown and go into exile. But even though Christian was now the undisputed king of the Kalmar Union, the wheel of fortune kept spinning. And Christian was in for a bumpy ride.

When Christopher of Bavaria died young and childless, it only took a few weeks for the “eternal peace” between the Scandinavian kingdoms to crumble as two pretenders, one Danish and one Swedish, both were declared king–of Norway.

King Erik of Pomerania survived all the peasant rebellions in the 1430s only to get into real trouble in the 1440s. But it wasn’t some external threat or domestic unrest that threatened his continued rule, but–as usual–his own hamfisted actions.

Even though Engelbrekt had been murdered, the injustices he’d rebelled against remained. So peasants all over Sweden kept rising up to achieve lower taxes and a just government. And not only in Sweden–the 1430s saw unrest spread like wildfire throughout King Erik’s realms.

In 1434, Engelbrekt Engelbrektsson found himself leading a popular rebellion in Sweden against the king of the Kalmar Union, Erik of Pomerania. Engelbrekt was given a seat on the Council of the Realm and was even appointed Captain of the Realm. 1435 was definitely going to be Engelbrekt’s year.

At midsummer in 1434, open rebellion broke out against King Erik of Pomerania in the Bergslagen region of Sweden. Under the leadership of Engelbrekt Engelbrektsson, angry Swedish peasants burned castles all over the place, and by November the king had basically lost control of the country. But Erik wasn’t ready to throw in the towel quite yet.

In June 1397, noblemen from Denmark, Norway and Sweden got together in Kalmar to celebrate the coronation of Erik of Pomerania, Margaret’s fourteen year-old adoptive son. The assembled nobles also agreed to establish a political union between the three kingdoms, called the Kalmar Union. Or did they?

Margaret dominated Scandinavian politics for almost forty years, but since she was a woman, she wasn’t allowed to rule as queen in her own right. Instead, she had to rule through her son Olav. When he died young, Margaret adopted her sister’s grandson, making him king. That worked fine until she eventually died and he was left to actually run the show on his own.

In his attempts to hold on to his Swedish crown, Albert of Mecklenburg outsourced his naval affairs to a bunch of glorified pirates. Shockingly, when he no longer needed them, they went on being pirates.

In the Middle Ages, trade in Northern Europe was dominated by the Hanseatic League. At its peak, the Hansa had a virtual monopoly on international trade in Scandinavia and the members of the League weren't shy about protecting their privileges. By any means possible.

For hundreds of years, the descendants of the colonists Erik the Red had tricked to come with him to Greenland thrived on their chilly (but not particularly verdant) outpost in the North Atlantic. But in the second half of the 14th century things changed.

Life in Scandinavia in the Middle Ages wasn’t always great, and in the summer of 1349 it took a sharp turn for the worse. For a lot of people it also ended abruptly in considerable agony. The reason was that the Plague had arrived. The ramifications would be felt for generations to come.

After her husband’s death, the aristocratic Bridget Birgersdotter started to have visions where Jesus, Mary and various saints and prophets unloaded on the rich and powerful. Despite making many influential enemies this way, Bridget was canonized after her death and is today one of the six patron saints of Europe.

Magnus Eriksson became king of two kingdoms when he was only three years old. He peaked as a toddler, ruling over Norway, Iceland, Greenland, Sweden and Finland. But it was all downhill from there. Through a combination of unruly aristocrats, foreign invasions and the Plague Magnus Eriksson eventually lost everything.

The Swedish usurper king Magnus Birgersson won the acceptance of the Church and the aristocracy by granting them tax exemptions and other privileges. Paradoxically, he’s also remembered as a friend of the common man for trying to limit greedy noblemen’s ability to abuse peasants. He had three sons, and to say that they didn’t get along would be an understatement.

Even though he never became king, Jarl Birger Magnusson dominated Swedish political life (and the actual king) for many years. He led a crusade, gave women the right to inherit and founded the city of Stockholm. Maybe.

After years of decay and foreign control over Denmark, a new king was elected in 1340. Valdemar IV had his mind set on regaining control over the kingdom–no matter what. And he didn’t let German aristocrats, peasant rebellions or the Plague stand in the way of achieving his goal. For his efforts, he was given the nickname Valdemar Dawn. 

As the descendants of Valdemar the Victorious fought each other, Denmark descended deeper into decay. To raise money, the king pawned off bits of the kingdom to German aristocrats, gradually losing control over the country.

The years following the murder of Erik Plowpenny saw bitter fighting between the Danish kings, who kept getting killed, and the Church and the nobility. The once mighty kingdom was fast losing its position as the leading power in Scandinavia, and no one seemed able to stop the decay.

King Magnus Law Mender is famous for having established one unified law code for all of Norway. Except cities and towns, which had their own laws. And Iceland, obviously. His sons focused more on fighting Denmark and trying to produce legitimate male heirs.

Haakon Haakonsson was king of Norway for a very long time. 46 years to be exact. His long reign is considered the zenith of medieval Norway: he put an end to the Norwegian civil war by defeating his father-in-law, he built multi-story stone buildings, had fashionable fiction translated and expanded Norway to its largest size ever when he took control over Iceland and Greenland.

Fighting among the richest and most powerful clans in Iceland weakened the Commonwealth and opened the door for a Norwegian takeover. In the end, Iceland lost its independence and wouldn’t regain it until 1944.

Through the second and third crusades (that definitely did happen), Sweden took control over Finland, making it a part of Scandinavia from a political, religious, economic, and cultural–if not geographical–perspective.

In the 1150s, king Erik and bishop Henrik went on the First Swedish Crusade to Finland. Maybe. The mission was a success and Finland was won for Christ and for the Swedish crown. Maybe. Erik and Henrik were both rewarded with sainthoods, but only after they met their rather grisly deaths.

The Golden Age of the Valdemars continued with the reign of a second king called Valdemar. During a crusade in the Baltic region, he established Danish control over Estonia and brought back the flag still used by the Danes today.

The reign of King Valdemar, the sole surviving king of the Danish civil war, is seen as the beginning of a Golden Age in Danish medieval history. Valdemar was aided by his foster-brother and BFF Absalon, who was both the king’s trusted advisor and Archbishop of Lund. Together, this dynamic duo spread Christianity and Danish control along the shores of the Baltic Sea.

The Norwegian civil war eventually produced two rival parties. Traditionally, the Birkebeiner have been seen as the party of the poor and the downtrodden and the Bagler as the party of the nobility and the Church. But they were just as much—if not more—regional elite groupings fighting for the supremacy of their own region within the kingdom.

Soon after Sigurd the Crusader died in 1130, a civil war that was to plague medieval Norway for over a century kicked off. A long line of pretenders with colorful nicknames fought each other for the Norwegian throne.

When Magnus Barefoot was killed in Ireland, his three sons Sigurd, Eystein and Olav took over as co-kings of Norway. According to an already well-established pattern this should have led to a bloody civil war, but to everyone’s surprise the brothers kept the peace. Of course it helped that Olav died young and Sigurd set off on an epic voyage that lasted for years.

The early Middle Ages were a time when a lot of people wanted to be king. The 12th century was basically one long cavalcade of pretenders who barely managed to claw their way to the top before someone else knocked them down, ready to take their place. And at least half of them were called Erik.

During the reign of Sven Estridsson and his five sons, Denmark definitely went from a Viking society to a medieval kingdom. Thanks to the classic medieval mix of secular and ecclesiastical politics, the country also gained not only one, but two, royal saints. To keep things simple, they were both called Knut.

Unlike the king, who was a distant figure somewhere far away, the Church reached each and every one living in Scandinavia in the Middle Ages. It quickly became a rich and powerful institution that developed in parallel with the kingdom, often aiding and strengthening the secular political power—but sometimes also challenging it.

Despite Magnus Barefoot’s best efforts, the Viking Age eventually ended and turned into the Middle Ages. At the time, Scandinavia was divided politically into three kingdoms: Denmark, Norway and Sweden. This is an overview of their physical and political landscapes, as well as the financial and military resources at the medieval king’s disposal.

Harald Hardrada’s son Olav returned to Norway with his father’s body and proceeded to rule in peace for a quarter of a century, shunning war and glory in favor of law, commerce and religion. But his son, Magnus, resembled his martial grandfather Harald and wanted to reignite the Viking Age. Magnus fought wars in England, Sweden and Ireland. In the end, he resembled grandpa Harald a little too much and got himself killed while on campaign in the British Isles.

Just as Magnus the Good was getting comfortable as king, his uncle showed up from nowhere demanding to share the kingdom. Since uncle Harald was rich and powerful, Magnus had little choice but to agree. The arrangement was awkward and brief, ending with Magnus' death. Harald went on to try and conquer both Denmark and England, but the only thing he managed to accomplish was to put an end to the Viking Age.

After more than a century of Danes fighting to rule Norway, the crown of Denmark unexpectedly fell into the lap of a Norwegian teenager. But even though Magnus the Good was recognized as king of Denmark, not everyone was willing to accept being ruled by a Norwegian.

In the late 10th century, a guy called Erik became the first king of Sweden. He started out ruling together with his brother, but he soon died. Erik’s orphaned nephew tried to usurp the throne, but the fact that Erik is known as “the Victorious” should give you a clue about how it all ended.

Olav Haraldsson was an ambitious man who wanted two things more than anything else: to be king of Norway and to Christianize the Norwegians. In life, he was a divisive character and was killed after a brief stint on the throne. But in death, he became a unifying national symbol and king forever.

Sven Forkbeard established a vast empire, covering Denmark, England and (sometimes) Norway. Even though it fell apart when Sven died, his son Knut the Great eventually managed to reclaim his father’s possession of Denmark, England and (sometimes) Norway.

Olav Tryggvason was a zealous Christian, but it didn’t stop him from leading violent Viking raids. He became king of Norway thanks to impeccable timing and by spending copious amounts of silver that he had acquired on his raids. Once Olav became king, he spent his reign killing pagans and making powerful enemies.

When Harald Greycloak became king of Norway, Harald Bluetooth of Denmark expected his nephew to be thankful and obedient. After all, it was the Danish king who had paid for the three invasion fleets needed to put Harald Greycloak on the throne. But the new Norwegian king had other plans. Plans that didn’t include his overbearing uncle.

Under Harald Bluetooth, Denmark became a powerful unified kingdom. But not powerful enough to take on the Germans. Harald strengthened the southern border defenses and erected the trelleborg fortresses all over his realm. This shows not only that the Danes had impressive engineering know-how and considerable political, financial and military resources--but also that Harald was scared enough of the Germans to pay for it all. In the end, though, his downfall would come from much closer to home.

Harald Fairhair used his many sons as local rulers in his name. This worked well as long as he was still alive, but when he died, many of his sons found it hard to accept that their brother Erik should be the king of them all. It didn’t help that Erik didn’t do a very good job as king—or that he had a tendency toward fratricide, which earned him the nickname Bloodaxe.

Harald Fairhair gets the credit for uniting Norway under one crown. According to the legend, he did so because a woman he fancied made this her condition for marrying him. Not because he was a ruthless and vain brute. Once Harald achieved his goal, he persecuted his opponents, raised taxes and got a haircut. Lucky for him, his nickname is based on the last of those activities.

Various European rulers started to send missionaries to Scandinavia already before the violent Viking raids really became a thing. But it was slow going in the first century or so. Even though a handful of Scandinavians did switch to Jesus, Christianity only took off when local kings started to put pressure on their subjects to be baptized.

Even today, almost a thousand years after the Scandinavians abandoned the old gods for Christianity, people are fascinated by the stories about the heroic and hammer-wielding (albeit slightly thick) Thor, his dad Odin—the one-eyed King of the gods—and Loki, Odin’s evil blood brother.

The pre-Christian religion in Scandinavia is largely shrouded in mystery—not least because of the Church’s best efforts to eradicate the memory of its predecessor. Nonetheless, thanks to some eyewitness accounts from horrified Christian missionaries, snippets from sagas and the work of modern-day archeologists, we still know a thing or two about Old Norse religious practices, ceremonies and sacrifices.

Even though the Vikings had a rich literary tradition, it was mostly oral. The sagas that have survived were written down after the Viking Age is conventionally considered to have ended and the Middle Ages begun. But the Vikings weren’t illiterate. They used their own unique alphabet—the runes—and they've left us plenty of runic inscriptions all over the place. Except in Iceland.

Most Viking Age Scandinavians weren’t really Vikings. Instead of gallivanting across the seas in search for gold and glory, they spent their lives eking out a meager existence at some isolated farm somewhere where the summers were too short and the winters too long. This episode is dedicated to a closer look at their daily lives.

The Vikings who travelled the furthest away from home, reached Muslim lands around the Caspian Sea and in the Caucasus Mountains. There, they encountered men who didn’t wear pants, but rather caftans or tunics, so naturally the Vikings called the place Serkland—or “Gown Land”. Many a Scandinavian trader made a fortune selling furs and slaves in Serkland. Many others lost their lives fighting local armies.

Constantinople with its golden palaces, splendid churches and lively markets captured the Viking imagination like few other places. They simply called it the Great City, Miklagard. For centuries Scandinavians would go there in the hopes of making a fortune trading in slaves, furs and silk. Some also worked as imperial bodyguards, impressing and scaring the locals with their long hair and reputation for ruthlessness.

Vikings traded and raided along the great rivers (almost) connecting the Baltic and the Black Seas. They sold slaves, furs and other goods, and in return brought home enormous amounts of silver from Byzantium and Baghdad. Some Scandinavians settled along the route and set up a network of city states they called Gardariki, or “The Realm of Cities”.

When he was outlawed in Iceland for killing some people, Erik the Red sailed west and explored a new land. He called it “Greenland” to lure unsuspecting Icelanders to join his colonization project. His son—Leif Eriksson—continued in the family tradition (of exploring, not killing) and became the first European to reach the continent we know as North America.

In the year 930, the Icelandic Commonwealth was established. The Icelanders set up a libertarian utopia of personal freedom and sheep farming, governed by the Althing—an assembly that passed laws and settled disputes—but that had absolutely zero executive power. Instead, law enforcement was left to the citizens themselves. It worked better than you might have expected.

In the late 9th century, Scandinavians more or less stumbled upon a new piece of real estate in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. They eventually decided to call it Iceland, and started to populate it. The early settlers assumed that its lush forests and promise of political independence would last forever. They would soon be proven wrong.  

In 911, after decades of Viking attacks, the Frankish King Charles the Simple made a deal with the Scandinavian warlord Rollo: in exchange for land and a noble title the Viking promised to defend the Channel coast from further invasions. Rollo accepted, and established a dynasty that would change French—as well as English—history forever.

Under Scandinavian control, the city the Vikings called Jorvik flourished and grew into a center of commerce and trade in the late 9th century. The Scandinavians connected Jorvik to the world far beyond the borders of England, turning it into one of the most important cities in the British Isles.    Despite the financial success, though, the political situation was a mess. 

Eventually, the Viking leader Guthrum signed a deal with King Alfred of Wessex, establishing the Danelaw. It wasn’t really a state, but it was still annoying enough to the West-Saxons that they would devote a century to eradicating it, establishing England in the process. Even though they succeeded in the end, the Scandinavians have left a mark in the English language, archaeological finds and the gene pool that can still be seen today.

Despite the corona quarantine, I’ve managed to record a new episode! In the year 865, a large force of Vikings invaded the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms. Everyone was robbed, and those who didn’t submit to Scandinavian rule were also killed. King Edmund of East Anglia was turned into a pincushion by Ivar the Boneless. Only Wessex continued to defy the onslaught. Its teenage king Alfred fought the Viking forces that are known to history as the Great Heathen Army.  

If you know the name of only one Viking, chances are that name is Ragnar Lodbrok. In this episode, we take a closer look at the legend of Ragnar and his sons. For hundreds of years, this legend shaped the way Scandinavians understood their own past. It was a source of both fascination and pride, and kings—as well as regular Scandinavians with an inflated ego—claimed to be descendants of the Ragnarssons.

The Scandinavians who settled in Ireland became an integral part of the social and economic fabric of the island. For a few generations, the Viking Kings of Dublin were a major power not only in Irish politics, but also across the Irish Sea. Even though they eventually lost their political and military power, the influence of the Scandinavians linger on the Emerald Isle. It can still be seen both in local place names as the Irish gene pool.

After the initial attack on Lindisfarne, the Vikings shifted their focus away from England--settling the islands off the coast of Scotland and raiding in Ireland. The Shetland and Orkney Islands, as well as the Hebrides and the Isle of Man, were soon dominated by Scandinavian settlers. In Ireland, they established colonies that remain important urban centers to this day.

Who were the Vikings, and why did they decide to start plundering and killing? Was it really because of something some random West-Saxon bailiff said? Or because the Northumbrians cut their hair in a way that upset God? Find out in this episode, when we kick off the Viking Age with the infamous attack on the monastery at Lindisfarne. 

Welcome to the first episode of the Scandinavian History Podcast. This first episode is dedicated to Scandinavia from the time the ice started to recede after the last Ice Age until the beginning of the Viking Age. Music: The Vikings by Alexander Nakarada serpentsoundstudios.com promoted by free-stock-music.com Attribution 4.0 Int creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/