Scandinavianism in Political Practice

Abstract

The end of the Crimean War was followed by a marked shift in Scandinavian foreign policy. Having incurred the wrath of Russia and secured a treaty of questionable value with France and Britain, Sweden-Norway looked to Denmark to form a barrier against Russia. Meanwhile, Denmark’s relations with the German Confederation deteriorated rapidly as the conflict over the duchies of Schleswig and Holstein—left unresolved by the First Schleswig War—escalated, contributing also to a political deadlock between Danish unitary statists and nationalists. It was thus hardly surprising that the Scandinavian countries found reciprocal interest in a military alliance. In addition to explaining political developments in Denmark, Norway and Sweden, this chapter shows how a Scandinavian military alliance was very nearly entered into in 1857–1858, only for chance events to prevent the treaty from being concluded. The chapter also shows how a change of government in Denmark in 1857, bringing the national liberal C.C. Hall to power as council president, brought an emerging new course in Danish foreign policy as Hall looked for solutions to the conflict over the duchies.Meanwhile, changes of governments and monarch in Sweden-Norway had altered the political premise for Scandinavianism, although it was not yet clear to anyone exactly how. However, as the Danish-German conflict intensified and Napoleon III looked to change the map of Europe, it was becoming increasingly clear that the prospect of war began to loom, although where and how war would break out was a moot point.

With the Royal Seal of Approval

On 15 June 1856, King Oscar received almost 1300 students in Stockholm. The occasion was the first Scandinavianist student gathering for four years. Among the other guests there were ministers, envoys and high-ranking figures from the court. At the king’s table sat also 14 veterans of the Scandinavianist movement, among them the Danish editor Carl Ploug, who was still considered as de facto leader of the movement.¹

Toasts were drunk, speeches made and songs sung. Ploug brought a greeting to Oscar that was almost like a declaration of faith. This was a far cry from how the Scandinavianist movement had emerged in opposition to the monarchs. Oscar replied with words that have stood as a memorial of that student gathering in 1856, and of how Scandinavian relations had changed since the Napoleonic Wars:

Discord has fled, hatred has vanished. Our bards sing common songs of praise, our swords are ready for our common defence. Scandinavia’s spiritual treasures spread out their gold for common enlightenment and ennoblement. From now on, war between Scandinavian brothers is impossible.²

The Crimean War had brought Scandinavianists and the Bernadottes closer together. The student gathering attracted huge media attention, which contributed to promoting the ideology and the message of Scandinavianism and to give it a credible presence. Its significance was reinforced by the king’s recognition, and with it came a political legitimacy that the movement had not previously enjoyed.³ Belief in a unified Scandinavia, and indeed the possibility of achieving it in the foreseeable future, became strengthened. Oscar’s new symbolic role as the king of the movement and Charles as its crown prince also strengthened the monarchy. Even some Scandinavianists critical of the monarchy relished the official approval that Scandinavianism had now acquired. Some of them felt that this would make the European powers readier to accept the thought of a united Scandinavia as a bulwark against Russia.⁴

King Oscar’s sudden openness to the Scandinavianist movement appeared deeply suspicious, however, in the eyes of the Swedish editor S.A. Hedlund: “I fear certain powers when they show appear to embrace the people”.⁵ And the king did, indeed, have his own motives. He had not become a convinced Scandinavianist overnight. However, his message had been clear enough. He pointed out to the crown prince that the student gathering had been important for the future independence of the Nordic countries. This was in line with the king’s private note from May 1856 that the political unification of the Scandinavian countries was their only salvation. The student gathering in June was a step in a realignment that already had started through the reshuffling of ministers, secret agents, media activities and diplomacy. Scandinavianism was no longer simply one of the king’s instruments or a possible alternative but had become an end in itself. Russia’s envoys to Copenhagen and Stockholm were quick to grasp this change, advising St. Petersburg after the student gathering at Uppsala that “the ministry should change its optics from regarding [the] Scandinavian idea as ungrounded dreams to taking it very seriously”.⁶

Propaganda and Plans

An unofficial invitation from Napoleon III to Prince Christian in the spring of 1856 prompted Frederick VII to take action. One of his closest confidantes was sent to the court in Stockholm to express the king’s displeasure at the “intrigues of Prince Christian”, the prince’s Russian sympathies, his links to Holstein and, above all, his potential visit to Paris. King Frederick made no secret of the fact that he detested his heir presumptive.⁷

In Stockholm, there were also suspicions that Prince Christian was trying to ingratiate himself with the court in Paris. The aim was, apparently, to change the impression made by a visit by Prince Christian’s to St. Petersburg the year before—which for many confirmed their views of him as deeply Russophile—and to persuade the Western powers not to consider altering the Danish succession. For his part, King Oscar had little faith in Napoleon III after the Crimean War, and even less so once the emperor reconciled with the czar. The court in Stockholm was genuinely concerned that Prince Christian might plot to resurrect the Danish-Russian alliance that had been Sweden’s geostrategic nightmare from 1773 to 1812. Prince Oscar, the king’s second surviving son, was therefore sent to Paris to malign Prince Christian and to warn against Russian ambitions in Scandinavia. Furthermore, King Oscar was furious at Prussia and especially Austria, whom he blamed for having contributed to concluding the Crimean War before Russia was crushed. Scandinavianism’s anti-German cast suited him well, therefore, as did Frederick VII’s grievance against Prince Christian and the thinly veiled dynastic feelers the king of Denmark had put out to the Bernadottes.⁸

As far as can be seen, Prince Oscar was sent to Paris to persuade Emperor Napoleon to support a change in the Danish succession in favour of the Bernadottes. Back in Stockholm Prince Oscar had a number of things to tell his father, who then passed them on to Frederick VII. Napoleon III had only invited Prince Christian out of politeness, reported king Oscar, who at the same time let it be understood that he was nevertheless concerned at the prospect of Christian becoming the Danish king and as such a channel for Russian influence. He asked Frederick to be discreet for the time being, but it was clear that the king of Sweden and Norway was having serious thoughts about a new dynastic and political direction for Scandinavia. Discretion was probably too much to ask of Frederick VII, but it was integral to King Oscar’s modus operandi to operate in secret. This also made it difficult for the Scandinavianists to know where they had him, but his reception of the students in Stockholm made them begin to harbour serious hopes.⁹

The summer of 1856 saw a new wave of Scandinavianist secret agents and propaganda in the European press. Much of it originated from King Oscar. The idea was to enlighten public opinion—especially in Great Britain and France—so people could get used to the idea of a united Scandinavia and perhaps even put pressure on the governments of the Western powers. Reports of the impression made by the student gathering on opinion in France were encouraging. The head of Oscar’s network of agents, Knut Bonde, published a pamphlet for which Oscar was alleged to have written a draft. Observations on the Present State and Future Prospects of Scandinavia, by a Swede appeared in August, aroused attention in the French and British press and was praised in the Swedish. Its message was that a unified Scandinavia as a protection against Russia was in the interests of the Western powers and that the German parts of Schleswig could be separated from the unitary state alongside Holstein and Lauenburg. Yet, for some Scandinavianists, the prospect of partitioning Schleswig was highly controversial, and the Swedish pamphlet was not met with universal acclamation in Danish liberal and Scandinavianist circles.¹⁰

Napoleon III was in any event sufficiently interested to allow his cousin, Prince Napoleon (“Plon-Plon”) to go to Scandinavia in September, officially under the pretext of a scientific expedition. In reality, it was all about politics, and “Plon-Plon” met both the Bernadottes and leading Scandinavianists. Their aim, the prince was led to understand, was a Scandinavian union under the Bernadottes, with the separation of Holstein and Lauenburg from the Danish state. This required an annulment of the Danish succession. Like his cousin, the emperor, “Plon-Plon” was an adherent of the principle of nationality and gave assurances that this and a Scandinavian unification was, indeed, what the Western powers wanted. This could be regarded as an unofficial message from Napoleon III.¹¹ In secret meetings with Scandinavianists, the prince declared that a Scandinavian federation was necessary as a counterbalance to Russia, that France would never tolerate a Russophile monarch in Denmark, and that the Treaty of London would have to be altered. When it was objected that it might be difficult to annul an international treaty, “Plon-Plon” replied, “On the contrary! In our times a treaty means nothing”. Carl Ploug and O.P. Sturzen-Becker, the most vociferous proponents of Scandinavianism, were convinced that, “France [is] fully on board as regards Scandinavianism and not just its dynastic but also its federative goals”. For them, Prince Napoleon’s word was essentially the emperor’s.¹²

The Scandinavianists, the Bernadottes and “Plon-Plon” all ended up saying more than they should have, and in the case of Prince Napoleon also more than he had a remit to say. On 17 October, he had to admit to Crown Prince Charles that he had laid the Scandinavian question before Napoleon III, who, apart from showing some sympathy, had gone no further than to say that he would have to see how the matter was considered in London. This was more or less the same as the Swedish-Norwegian envoy in Paris was told. The conclusion to the Crimean War had soured Franco-British relations, and Napoleon III saw no reason to further provoke London.¹³

Napoleon did not give his active support but nor did he reject the idea. In Stockholm, he was interpreted as being interested but biding his time. Interest was also aroused in Great Britain after Napoleon III had brought the matter up with the British ambassador in Paris, Lord Cowley. Napoleon III himself was most interested in discovering how the British viewed the international political consequences of a Scandinavian unification. He added that he preferred a Scandinavian kingdom to Denmark being incorporated into Germany. Cowley laid the whole matter before Lord Palmerston, who commented: “This is a matter that requires much consideration. The union would in itself be a good thing, since it would, it is true, prevent the entry to the Baltic from falling into Russian hands, unless Scandinavia’s united kingdoms, through some unforeseen event or other, were to come under Russian influence”. The duchies certainly presented a challenge, and Palmerston felt that “these questions presuppose that if they could be decided, then the matter could be expedited: that is to act at speed”. The idea of a partitioning of Schleswig was aired in London, and Palmerston and Clarendon let Cowley know that, in this event, Britain would not oppose the union of “Denmark proper” and Sweden-Norway.¹⁴

As for Schleswig, not only the two British statesmen, but also some Scandinavianists were inclined to partition the duchy so that the southern part would be united with Holstein and Lauenburg as one state, while middle and northern Schleswig would join Denmark in a Scandinavian union.¹⁵ In the British camp, in other words, a Scandinavian unification was looked upon positively, but there was some doubt as to whether it could be achieved and the extent to which it enjoyed popular support. And there the Franco-British exchange of ideas ceased for the time being. But political developments meant that there was also a need now to take account of Scandinavianism at the governmental level in Europe. Napoleon III continued to try to find a solution—first with Great Britain, later with Prussia. Andrew Buchanan, the British envoy in Copenhagen, remarked that he “was sure that there would under no circumstances be concerns about a strong Scandinavian power, but the challenge was that the German states would scarcely be likely to accept it”.¹⁶

In September 1856, Sweden and Norway’s Crown Prince Charles also came to Copenhagen, with his father’s blessing. However, he had received instructions from his father to tread carefully. When it came to “the big Scandinavian idea […], the plant needs to be cared for and nurtured diligently, but the time to harvest has not yet come”. Charles could not, however, count patience and discretion among his finer qualities—any more than could Frederick. During the autumn manoeuvres which Charles was invited to attend, Frederick offered to give Charles the command of his own troops, which it had been arranged would win. Charles did not need to be asked twice, for the purpose was unmistakable. The losing side, consisting of Holstein troops, was to be led by Prince Christian.¹⁷

While in Copenhagen, Charles also received Carl Ploug for an hour’s conversation. This, in itself, attracted some attention, but that attention would have been even greater if the public had known what they had spoken about. Had that been the case, Ploug could well have expected to be charged for high treason. Everything that had been aired during their respective discussions with Prince Napoleon was laid on the table, and Charles made no secret of the fact that he was expecting to be adopted by Frederick VII and that Prince Christian would be left with the crumbs of Holstein and Lauenburg. Ploug was asked to prepare an action plan that could be presented to King Oscar. Ploug promptly informed Sturzen-Becker, who crowed that he “knows everything but one cannot entrust more than a small fragment of it to paper”.¹⁸

Crown Prince Charles reported back to King Oscar that both the Danish king and “the Countess Danner, who cannot or will not do anything other than promote the Scandinavian idea”, were supportive. As it would later transpire, Charles’ visit to Copenhagen had not been an unmitigated benefit to the Bernadotte plans, but the mood at the court in Stockholm was optimistic—especially when Charles himself arrived there in October. Sweden-Norway’s cabinet secretary for foreign affairs, Albert Ehrensvärd, noted how Scandinavianism was now held in high regard at the court: “In this matter, it seemed that things had already been decided, and there were only months or weeks before it would be a fait accompli et accepté”.¹⁹

In the meantime, Scandinavianist propaganda in the European press had intensified. The message was the same as before, but there was now an attempt to present a Scandinavian state that encompassed both shores of the Oresund as harmless. There was, in addition, a concrete proposal that Prince Christian could be given Holstein and Lauenburg in compensation for the Danish throne. In Paris, a young Swedish M.A., Harald Wieselgren, was working on behalf of King Oscar to provide Charles Edmond, Prince Napoleon’s secretary, with information for the French public through newspapers such as La Presse, Journal des Débats and Siècle. A Scandinavianist programme was also printed in the semi-official Opinione in Turin. All this was not lost on people in Scandinavia, where many may have had their suspicions as to the source of such articles—not least because a number of them proposed the partition of Schleswig. This created indignation in Denmark—and among Scandinavianists themselves. But it seemed to reflect King Oscar’s preference for a partitioning of Schleswig with only its Danish-speaking parts joining a united Scandinavia.²⁰

The propaganda was extensive, but its effect debatable. According to the Swedish historian Sven Eriksson, the campaign “resonated in Europe—not least in Copenhagen” but had no broader significance. In Paris, Wieselgren even complained that it was hard to get the public interested in the issue. Nevertheless, the propaganda helped to keep the idea alive and for some it became a matter of great interest. Among these was the exiled Duke Christian August of Augustenburg, who saw the opportunity to put a stopper on Russia, to annul the Treaty of London and to get the duchies separated from Denmark. Moreover, King Oscar’s more or less explicit espousal of Scandinavianism created hope—even more so when, at the opening of the Swedish Riksdag in October 1856, he expressed views that could easily be taken as Scandinavianist.²¹

The Scandinavianist propaganda campaign was perhaps most extensive in Denmark but did not necessarily have the desired effect. It turned out that the campaign and Crown Prince Charles’ visit had mobilised supporters of the unitary state to voice their displeasure, as did Russian diplomats, who had sounded the alarm immediately after Crown Prince Charles’ visit to Copenhagen. The Danish envoy in St. Petersburg, Otto von Plessen, also expressed his concern, as did his superior and fellow supporter of the unitary state, Foreign Minister Ludvig Nicolaus Scheele. In his eyes, Scandinavianism was a threat to the unitary state and the succession, and he feared the animosity of the powers who had signed the London Protocol. Furthermore, he received information from Paris that Napoleon III had recently hinted at a partition of Denmark. Scheele also questioned why Admiral Christian Adolf Virgin had suddenly turned up in Copenhagen on 18 December—ostensibly as Swedish-Norwegian envoy but as yet without official nomination. Having been dispatched to Paris in November 1855 to negotiate terms for Sweden-Norway’s entry into the Crimean War, Virgin was one of King Oscar’s confidantes and a Scandinavianist. Before his departure for Copenhagen the king asked him to be careful but to court leading Danish Scandinavianists and to signal support for an Eider policy. In the meantime, Elias Lagerheim, Swedish-Norwegian envoy to Copenhagen since 1836, replaced Gustaf Stierneld as foreign minister but was kept just as ignorant of his monarch’s foreign policy.²²

Scheele’s justified suspicion of Scandinavianist intrigues only reinforced his loyalty to the unitary state and his derring-do. From the Scandinavianist side, there had been a glimmer of hope that Scheele—who was close to Frederick and Countess Danner, had a poor relationship with Prince Christian and was not adverse to liberal ideas—might contribute to a Scandinavianist dynastic solution. There was soon express proof to the contrary. At the beginning of January 1857, to Scheele’s great delight—and possibly with his assistance—a defence of the unitary state and an attack on Scandinavianism appeared in the leading Danish newspaper Berlingske Tidende. Ploug had kept silent since August, but now his newspaper Fædrelandet replied in strident tones. The debate about Scandinavianism exploded in the public sphere, even outside Scandinavia.²³

An Alliance Rejected

As a nobleman and a holder of estates on Funen and in Scania, Baron Carl Frederik Blixen-Finecke was a rare breed, his properties making him eligible as member of both the Danish and Swedish parliaments. Blixen’s predeliction for intrigue and his apparent need for attention drove him into politics, and from the mid-1850s he embraced Scandinavianism. This created problems in relation to Prince Christian, who became Blixen’s brother-in-law in 1854. Initially, Blixen stood by Christian’s side in his conflict with the king and the Countess Danner, but in the autumn of 1856 their relationship broke down.²⁴

At the end of January 1857, Baron Blixen trumpeted his Scandinavianist views in public. As he was visiting his old university friend, Otto von Bismarck, who served as Prussia’s envoy to the German Confederation in Frankfurt, his pamphlet Scandinavianism in practice appeared in Copenhagen, landing like a bombshell in the already heated Scandinavian debate. For Blixen, Scandinavianism in practice was a mutual arrangement of adoption between the royal houses as a dynastic solution for the future, even though Blixen also took account of “the extraordinary event that a Nordic union might become a European wish, if not a European necessity, prior to the throne in one of the kingdoms being vacated”. At the same time, Holstein and Lauenburg would be placed in a loose relation to the Danish state and the union. Reactions were not slow to come in the Scandinavian press, and many were dismissive of Blixen’s plan. “Not practical”, one Danish newspaper quipped.²⁵

In Paris, on the other hand, Blixen’s proposal was judged to be practical. In La Presse, “Plon-Plon” used it as a basis for a programme in which the kingdom of Denmark and the Danish part of Schleswig would be united with Sweden, while Holstein and Lauenburg would fall to Prince Christian and form part of the German Confederation. Emperor Napoleon himself commented that “the moment for the partition of Denmark is approaching”. In his view, the northern part of Denmark should devolve to Sweden, while the German parts of the Danish state could pass to the Augustenburgs. The British government was not unsympathetic but felt that it would be better to wait and see how events unfolded than to actively bring them about.²⁶

Bismarck had also become interested. In April, the Prussian diplomat discussed the map of Europe with Napoleon in Paris on a number of occasions. They both felt that a united Scandinavia would nicely complement a united Italy, with Prussian territorial expansion further into Northern Germany. Here, Napoleon’s thoughts of partitioning Denmark came into their own. A solution in which Denmark was “absorbed” into Sweden-Norway would tear Holstein and Lauenburg from the Danish state and essentially leave both to Prussia. What they considered doing about Schleswig is not known, but a partition is not unthinkable.²⁷

In the wake of Blixen’s publication, a body of Scandinavian pamphlets came into being expressing sharp differences of opinion. These pamphlets should also be seen against the background of the international Scandinavianist propaganda campaign in the autumn of 1856, but Blixen had subsequently polarised the debate. This was not only due to his controversial dynastic proposal but also because the baron’s links to the court meant that his publication was regarded by some as a semi-official pronouncement. It was generally felt that Blixen could scarcely have published it unless it had been with the consent of Prince Christian, whose family was not entirely excluded from the running as the heir to a united Scandinavia in Blixen’s proposed arrangement. Others, however, suspected instead that, by bringing up the question of adoption, which could only mean the adoption of a Bernadotte prince by King Frederick VII, Blixen was writing on behalf of Crown Prince Charles. In private, however, the baron protested that he had “written as much in the service of the one as of the other, but of the creation of the text Crown Prince Charles was just as ignorant as Prince Christian”. However, that may be, Blixen’s self-declared Scandinavianism and links to the court made him a central figure in Scandinavianist circles. With his contacts both to the Danish agrarian nationalists and to the aristocracy in the Swedish Riksdag, he is also evidence that Scandinavianism was no longer restricted to national liberal circles.²⁸

It was, nevertheless, the national liberals who provided the plan for King Oscar’s course of action. In December 1856, Carl Ploug and O.P. Sturzen-Becker had each provided him with a memorandum, in which plans for a Scandinavian unification were spelled out in concrete terms. Ploug was the strategist with the broader view, while Sturzen-Becker was the pragmatic tactician. In Ploug’s memorandum, dated 8 December, he launched a three-step plan: “execution of the Scandinavian idea can be thought of in one of three forms, which indicate different levels in its development: as a defensive alliance, as an offensive and defensive federation of states, and as a dynastic and actual union”. The conditions for a union would be a Denmark united, on the one hand, with a partially autonomous Schleswig under the June constitution of 1849 and, on the other, on equal terms with Sweden-Norway through an Act of Union that gave the three countries’ parliaments influence in common affairs. In Sturzen-Becker’s memorandum, dated 15 December, he underlined the logic of the threshold principle, writing that union was “crucial for the whole of the Scandinavian north. Russia threatens with a blow to the heart, Germany […] snaps at our heels”. Union was therefore “in the common interests of the three nations, it is an absolute necessity for them”. He proposed, therefore, a Scandinavian alliance like “the brick with which a building is to be constructed. Once the building stands, the brick is not as easily pulled down as it could, when loose and isolated, be cast into the current of the time”. The dynastic and international complications would be overcome “in the first battle in which Swedish fighters helped the sons of Denmark to retain the German Confederation within its own borders”. The conclusion was clear. “The programme is the Eider border” and “the offensive and defensive alliance is the means to arrive at the union—and the goal”.²⁹

The gists of these memoranda were, it goes without saying, fairly similar, and King Oscar built his subsequent action plan on both. When Frederick VII became ill in January 1857—always a cause for concern that the alcoholic and frail king might die—Oscar had to work fast, for the opportunity for a Scandinavian alliance and the union would seemingly disappear if Frederick VII died and the succession guaranteed by the Treaty of London was put into effect. A Swedish initiative was, therefore, necessary. Frederick VII and his court had to be convinced that the fate of Denmark would stand or fall with Scandinavianism. In the same way, the Scandinavianists would also somehow have to get rid of Scheele as Danish foreign minister. King Oscar continued to dither for some time, but the sensation caused by the publication of Blixen’s Scandinavianism in practice got the wheels of diplomacy moving and forced the monarchs and politicians into action.³⁰

Scheele was the first to react. On 20 February, he informed Danish envoys abroad that he entirely rejected Scandinavianism and any dynastic upheaval among the Nordic countries, while remarking pointedly that he was sure King Oscar supported these considerations. His dispatch was the expression of a thoroughgoing unitary statist view and was welcomed both in St. Petersburg and in London, though from a diplomatic point of view it was highly controversial to attribute an opinion to the king of another country. A violent debate ensued when, on 23 March, Scheele leaked the circular dispatch to the press. The result was a crisis in government, which eventually forced Scheele to resign on 13 April. However, Scheele was close friends with King Frederick and continued to have the king’s ear even after his resignation from government.³¹

Since the spring of 1856, relations between Frederick VII and Oscar I had grown closer. They entered into a regular personal correspondence, and in July Frederick felt that their relationship had become such that he could bring up political questions and problems directly without going through formal channels. On 25 February 1857, a relieved King Oscar could congratulate Frederick VII on having got over a recent illness, but his main concern was something else. “The support that our countries could offer each other in the hour of need could either be of a moral nature or in the form of material help”, Oscar began his letter cautiously. “It is not my aim here to make a comprehensive proposal about this; I just wanted to direct Your Majesty’s gracious attention to this issue”. It was for all intents and purposes an offer to start negotiations for an alliance.³²

King Oscar had crossed the Rubicon. In the first place, in contrast to 1848, he was now willing to commit to defending Schleswig. Secondly, he was, by his own admission, “far too candid to declare that I am entirely elevated above any dynastic interest”. The opportunity of 1848 had now become a goal. He added that, however strong a roof might be, it can only survive if the building itself has the sufficient strength. In other words, the time had come to do the brickwork for the house that Sturzen-Becker had proposed and as such to carry out the first phase of the three-stage plan for Scandinavian unification that Ploug had made by concluding an alliance.³³

The matter was then discussed by the Danish government. Scheele, Lord of the Admiralty Ove Wilhelm Michelsen and the President of the Council Carl Christopher Andræ advised the king that a Swedish-Norwegian proposal should be considered. Frederick VII himself wrote the first draft of a response, which was highly sympathetic but inconclusive. However, this version of his letter was never sent. Instead, Scheele intervened and offered to formulate certain clarifications. Scheele knew what he was about when, in tortuous language, he requested Oscar to explain in greater detail whether the alliance would also include Holstein.³⁴ The question was a shot across King Oscar’s bows, but he was nevertheless prepared for it. On 27 March, he sent his formal offer of alliance. As an addition to a pact of friendship, he offered to commit 16,000 Swedish and Norwegian troops to the defence of Denmark and Schleswig. Holstein and Lauenburg were expressly excluded. Scheele’s question had therefore been answered in the negative.³⁵

The offer of an alliance reached Copenhagen on 31 March as the crisis in the Danish government was brewing and the debate in the press about Scandinavianism was at its height. Sweden-Norway’s envoy to Copenhagen, Christian Adolf Virgin, was still convinced that the Danish government would accept the offer. Oscar was, therefore, keen on a swift settlement, but the crisis in the government meant that the offer was put to one side. Scheele’s eventual departure on 13 April delighted the court in Stockholm, which now saw no obstacle to the alliance and began preparations to conclude it.³⁶

Their jubilation was, however, premature. In the first place, Frederick VII made no secret of his continuing personal friendship with Scheele, describing the other members of the cabinet as “donkeys”. Secondly, no new foreign minister was standing in the wings ready to take over. Frederick VII therefore felt it natural to consult Scheele when he finally had to respond to King Oscar’s offer. While Scheele hailed from Holstein and was a supporter of the unitary state, the king was a paradoxical mixture of dynast and nationalist—and so found himself caught with a foot in two different eras. While one foot was firmly planted in the modern principle of nationality, the other was rooted in traditional dynastic thinking. It was generally dynastic considerations that had the upper hand when Frederick thought about his domains, and so it proved when on one occasion he told Crown Prince Charles that he could inherit them as long as he took them all. It was not hard, therefore, for Scheele to argue that the king should accept only the offer of an alliance if it included all his domains, including Holstein. Thus, the answer to King Oscar on 19 April stated that Frederick could not enter into an alliance that did not encompass all of his domains. The mere word Holstein was anathema to Stockholm, however, and so the Scandinavian alliance fell apart, at least for the time being. Scheele was later blamed for having shot it down, but this time the answer of the recently departed minister accorded with the king’s own thinking.³⁷

Whether Frederick VII would have accepted the offer of an alliance if he had been advised by someone other than Scheele is an open question. The fact is that it was rejected. Some years later, Ploug described the rejection as “the greatest stupidity and the greatest iniquity ever committed by the Danish government”. By offering the alliance in the first place, and pledging to help defend Schleswig, King Oscar had gone a long way, but his sons Oscar and Charles were prepared to go even further. The fear in Stockholm, not least among the Scandinavianists, was that the window for Scandinavianism would close completely if the government crisis in Denmark paved the way for a conservative administration of unitary statists. The Bernadottes therefore hoped that C.C. Hall would succeed in forming a new national liberal government. Prince Oscar pronounced himself ready to “push Scandinavianism to the limits if Hall does not succeed—revolution is the last resort—I do not care for it, but have no doubt, if it concerns the salvation of the Nordic countries”. Crown Prince Charles was even more blunt to his librarian: “If the government becomes German [i.e. conservative and in favour of the unitary state], there is no alternative to revolution; if it succeeds in Copenhagen, then a deputation should be immediately sent with the steamer to Malmö”. No direct traces of similar extreme utterances from the secretive King Oscar have been found, but it is striking that, in the international propaganda that appeared in the autumn of 1856 and ostensibly originating from him, there are suggestions of the possibility of an uprising in Denmark.³⁸

In any event, revolutionary nationalism was no longer restricted to radicals. The revolutions of 1848 had brought about political constellations that could be exploited by conservatives and had also opened conservative eyes to sudden political upheavals. In 1848, the national liberal Ploug and his circle had planned a revolution. Nine years later, the Scandinavian question was considered so urgent, and the political and domestic conditions in Denmark appeared so complicated, that even certain conservatives like Baron Blixen and royal circles in Stockholm were willing to go to extremes. In London, the Foreign Office noted that moderates in Denmark, Sweden and Norway were becoming increasingly in favour of Scandinavianism and that the Bernadotte family was, in the words of the historian, Ragnhild Hatton, “eager to use a suitable opportunity to achieve Scandinavian union”. In other words, Palmerston was undoubtedly well-informed. Even the plan of action laid out to Oscar by Ploug and Sturzen-Becker to in late December 1856 was transmitted to him. Against this background, Scandinavian unification appeared to the British government as an ever more plausible solution.³⁹

Squaring the Circle

On 1 March 1856, Frederick VII opened the first Danish Rigsråd (Unitary Parliament), the federal parliament for the unitary state. The king asked the politicians to do their best to bring the various parts of the state closer together. The Danish historian Niels Neergaard has indicated, “a degree of anxiety as to what the first Unitary Parliament would bring, and that fear was certainly not groundless”. The tone of newspapers of the day, however, was optimistic. Irrespective of party divides, the gathering was seen as proof of rapprochement and peaceful collaboration.⁴⁰

The majority of politicians in Denmark and Holstein seemed prepared to enable the unitary state to function. Differences of language were no obstacle in the parliament, almost all proposals for legislation were approved and there were attempts to create political and social links between nationalities. Neergaard’s ominous words, however, are a sign that the assembly in the Unitary Parliament sowed the seed for the conflict that would lead to the fall of the unitary state. The negotiations had scarcely begun before the Holsteiners, led by Count Carl Scheel-Plessen, demanded that the unitary constitution should be rejected since it had never been submitted for consideration by the estates in the duchies. This was undeniably correct, and Danish politicians proposed that a new constitution should be created together through the Unitary Parliament. This was rejected by the 11 Holsteiners, who demanded that the unitary constitution should be put before the assemblies in the duchies. According to the Prussian envoy in Frankfurt, Otto von Bismarck, they rejected it because creating a constitution that could be accepted by the commonalty of the people was tantamount to squaring a circle. But why was it so difficult to unite the Danes and the Germans in a single state, under the same constitution?⁴¹

Worse Than a Crime

Carl Scheel-Plessen struggled on to the summer of 1864 trying to save the unitary state. Paradoxically, this was the count who eight years earlier had set in motion a process that would lead to its fall. There were three reasons for this. He believed that the October constitution of 1855 failed to respect the rights of the duchies, he didn’t trust the Danes, and he had a different vision of the future. According to the German interpretation, the October constitution was unlawful. It contravened the agreements of 1851–1852, since it was created without reference to the assemblies of the duchies. “This is how the Roman senate”, Scheel-Plessen claimed in the Unitary Parliament, “prescribed laws for their subject people”, but “here are no Romans—and here are no subject people either”.⁴²

Denmark was not Rome. Whether the Schleswig-Holsteiners were a subject people or not was, on the other hand, a delicate question. Formally, Denmark had been the victors in the First Schleswig War, and in its aftermath 21 leaders of the uprising had been sent into exile, while the officials who had broken their oath to Frederick VII were dismissed. Danish gendarmes removed Schleswig-Holstein symbols, restrictions were imposed on freedom of assembly, of expression and of the press, opposition newspapers and societies were prohibited, and the constitutions that applied to the duchies were reactionary. This was a blow not only to Schleswig-Holsteiners but also to Danish nationalists and their press in Schleswig.⁴³

Most controversially of all, Schleswig was partitioned linguistically and administratively into three belts. In southern Schleswig, everything took place in German. In northern Schleswig, Danish was mostly used, even though Flensburg, at its own request, was administered in German. The battleground was in central Schleswig, where national conservative officials launched a programme to persuade the population to adopt Danishness. Danish became the first language at school, the administration was in Danish, and officials were Danes with a strong national identity, but the citizens had the right to employ and be answered in the language that they preferred. Every week, church language alternated between Danish and German. This generated anger not only in the duchies but across the whole of Germany.⁴⁴

The Danish administration of Schleswig bore no resemblance to Russia and Prussia’s subjugation of the Poles or Austria’s conduct in Hungary. But even though it was not—at least by the standards of the time—the crime it was made out to be, it was also worse. It was stupidity. The attempt to impose a Danish national identity prevented stability in the duchies, created opposition among neutral great powers and provided the German states with yet another reason—or excuse—to involve themselves in the affairs of the unitary state. Foreign powers were able to intervene in the domestic affairs of the unitary state, because, unlike Austria, Denmark was not a great power and because citizens of Schleswig with German leanings felt they belonged to a large nation. This was what drove Danification. If central Schleswig was not brought round once again to adopting a Danish identity, many Danes feared that Schleswig would be lost and that the nation would then be too small to survive.⁴⁵

The administration in Schleswig led to citizens who identified with Germany losing faith in a Unitary Parliament with a Danish majority. Holsteiners could get the freedom they wished, as long as it did not involve Schleswig. But this was not something either the Schleswig-Holsteiners or Scheel-Plessen were interested in. There were not many options left. In 1853, the Holsteiners had already proposed the re-introduction of absolutism but later they presented two alternative suggestions. Either the Unitary Parliament should have a senate in which all constituent states were equally represented, or all common legislation should be approved in all constituent states of the unitary state. The first proposal would create an upper house dominated by Germans, while the latter would give the duchies a dominant position in the unitary state. From a Danish perspective, it looked as though the losers in the war were demanding a conservative unitary state dominated by the aristocracy in Holstein. The actions of the Holsteiners, however, have to be seen in the light of another war. The Crimean War had strengthened the German great powers and isolated Denmark.

The Crown Prince Regent

The obesity and alcoholism of the Danish king made him vulnerable to even the mildest illness, and Scandinavianists were concerned that he might die before the order of the Danish succession had been changed and endorsed by the great powers. Nor was King Oscar in the strongest of health. While the discussions concerning an alliance were taking place with Frederick VII in the spring of 1857, those around Oscar noticed his failing memory, while the king himself complained of chronic headache and nausea. In mid-May, the royal physician informed the crown prince that it was unlikely the king would be able to govern as he had previously. On 22 June 1857, Charles took on temporary leadership of the governments in Sweden and Norway. After some constitutional complications, the regency in the united kingdoms was formalised on 25 September. Oscar never recovered sufficiently to be able to rule and died in 1859. The autopsy revealed a tumour on the brain.⁴⁶

Crown Prince Charles took over the reins of government in a confused political situation. Danish rejection of the alliance proposal left a degree of foreign policy uncertainty, even though Scandinavianism had not been abandoned—least of all for Charles. But the situation with regard to Swedish domestic politics was so tense that the Regent had to concentrate on that first. The changes made to the government and the Scandinavianist campaign of 1856 had aroused hopes among the Swedish liberals, and when King Oscar opened the Swedish Riksdag in October 1856, he declared that the session would focus on reforms and on the union. While there was no question of a parliamentary reform, the Swedish liberals were still delighted and Scandinavianists paid particular attention to prospects for new legislation for the union with Norway that they hoped would open its doors to Denmark.⁴⁷

At the Riksdag in Stockholm, however, the crown and Scandinavianism came under attack. The king’s alliance policy and his scarcely veiled dynastic interests were the final straw for many conservatives—not least those in diplomatic circles who had little truck with Scandinavianism—and for liberals critical of an activist foreign policy and war. Among them was the minister of finance, Johan August Gripenstedt. His leaks to the press in the winter of 1856 about supposed royal plans for a coup d’etat had made the liberals warm to him, which in turn strengthened his position in the government. With a stronger standing among the liberals, it was getting difficult to remove Gripenstedt from the government even if the king so wished. Power was moving from the king to his ministers, just as Gripenstedt had wished.⁴⁸

The major bone of contention at the Riksdag’s session of 1856–1858 was the railway. Although a national railway had been agreed at the last Riksdag session, the question of how to finance it remained. Borrowing money from abroad was a controversial issue in Sweden but as part of what critics would later call his “flower paintings”, Gripenstedt gave an optimistic assessment of the country’s economy and its future. With a dig at the king’s foreign policy activism, he declared that the railway would allow them “to reconquer Finland inside Sweden’s borders”. Among a number of Swedish liberals, prosperity, freedom and peace had a better ring than the activist foreign policy and war that were linked to Scandinavianism. Anything that threatened peace and prosperity was designed, therefore, to provoke opposition from this influential liberal faction.⁴⁹

Scandinavianism divided the sheep from the goats among the Swedish liberals, but its activist nationalism suited a number of aristocrats belonging to the aristocratic Junker party close to Charles and hoping for appointments to the government. It was Charles’ ambition that the crown should be a force to be reckoned with but, like the Junker aristocrats, he was positively inclined towards moderate political reform and could also be progressive in other areas. However, relations to the liberals and to Gripenstedt, in particular, soon became strained, though on the railway issue Gripenstedt shared a common interest with Charles and with Henning Hamilton, the leader of the Junkers in the Riksdag and an obvious candidate for Charles’ council of state. The repercussions in Sweden of the European recession of the winter of 1857–1858 revealed the extent to which Gripenstedt’s “flower paintings” had misrepresented Sweden’s economic capacity, but the crisis also meant that Charles and Hamilton needed him as a fiscal guarantor for the national railway as few others were inclined to finance it with foreign loans. It was hardly a secret that Gripenstedt had been against Swedish-Norwegian involvement in the Crimean War but his performance at the Riksdag in May 1848 in favour of Swedish-Norwegian assistance for Denmark in the First Schleswig War still led Charles to believe that Gripenstedt was an adherent of Scandinavianism and as such prepared to support royal policy. This would prove to be a serious miscalculation.⁵⁰

Charles was a romantic who also regarded himself as a warrior—like his model, predecessor and namesake Charles XII (1682–1718). He dreamed of being a commander-in-chief in a Scandinavian war against Germany or, ideally, against Russia, with his head, literally, crowned in victory and him on the throne of a unified Scandinavia. Being a Francophile, he saw Napoleon III as a natural ally. Italy’s successful war of unification in 1859–1860, fought with Napoleon III’s support, further fed Charles’ bellicose instincts, and he was also personally enthusiastic about King Victor Emanuel and the nationalist freedom fighter Giuseppe Garibaldi.⁵¹

How close Charles’ relationship was to Frederick VII is debatable, but the fact is that they loved festive gatherings where they could drink beer, port and punch, tell tall tales and enter into Scandinavian alliances and unions.⁵² Dynastic prospects contributed also to smoothing relations between Charles’ younger brother Oscar and Frederick VII. Relations between the two brothers, however, were complicated and grew more difficult as their father became ill. Contradictions also surfaced as their Scandinavianist efforts were not always fully coordinated, and the two brothers had very different personal qualities. According to an officer in Prince Oscar’s staff, the prince was “a highly talented, knowledgeable and conscientious master but of an uneven temper and less agreeable to consort with than the crown prince, who in many ways is the opposite of his brother, and whose faults are easier to forgive”. Prince Oscar did not always succeed in concealing his frustration at Charles’ lack of application, patience and judgement.⁵³

A Change of Dynamics

In nineteenth-century Europe, the heir to the throne was often seen as more liberal than the monarch. In the case of Crown Prince Charles and Prince Christian the opposite was the case. This was also an indication that political winds had begun to blow in another direction after 1848. On the other hand, it was not unusual for a new monarch at the time to wish to put his own stamp on his government. Charles was no exception, and he started his regency with changes of government in both Sweden and Norway. Still, it was also a sign of the times that processes were initiated in both countries whereby power gradually shifted from the monarch to members of the government and parliament. This was neither a political inevitability nor necessarily a calculated effect. Paradoxically enough, in Sweden and Norway the shift of power from monarch to members of the government came in part as a result of Charles’ wish to have a more homogeneous and competent government. It was to be recruited from among capable and like-minded friends and acquaintances. This became clear when Charles appointed the Norwegian official Christian Birch-Reichenwald—referred to by contemporaries and historians as Birch—to reorganise the Norwegian government. “You know that I am aiming to get men of your ilk into the government”, the crown prince wrote to Birch in 1858, and “from the outset you must choose those you wish to have alongside you”. Charles also sketched their ideological profile: “Liberal I am not, never will be. But moderately conservative I am. So are you. That is our motto”.⁵⁴

Charles’ new Swedish government was conservative in nature but was by no means the “cabal of the aristocracy” that elements of the liberal press had feared. Most of the members were nobles, but they were not, in principle, opponents of reform. Moreover, there were also liberals in the government. Charles’ aide-de-camp commented that the government’s composition, as regards both individuals and political profile, gave the government power and strength but made it less susceptible to submitting to the king’s will. Henning Hamilton was central in the shaping of the new government. Only three ministers from King Oscar’s government remained in place, among them Gripenstedt. In 1858, Ludvig Manderström and Louis De Geer also joined the government. Manderström had long been seen as an up-and-coming figure in the foreign ministry. Alongside Hamilton and Gripenstedt, he was also the most politically experienced and respected. With these qualities, it is no surprise that he was a strong foreign minister who would not accept the servile role that King Oscar’s foreign ministers had played.⁵⁵

The same went for the appointment of De Geer as minister of justice, who it was thought would fulfil his role with no decided political allegiance. In time, De Geer came to take on a central position in Swedish politics but during the initial years remained in the wings. Theoretically, the foreign minister and the minister of justice were highest in rank since they were both prime ministers, but in practice experience, reputation, length of service and personality were decisive for the internal dynamics of the government and power relations within it. This meant that, in the first couple of years after 1858, Hamilton, Manderström and Gripenstedt were the key figures among the ministers.⁵⁶

The Norwegian government was also subject to reorganisation. Frederik Stang, who succumbed to a nervous breakdown, was only one of several ministers to leave in 1856. In Charles’ view, this was fortunate, as it created an opening for a regeneration of the Norwegian government in tandem with the Swedish. Furthermore, he personally could not stand Stang.⁵⁷ In 1858, Birch(-Reichenwald), a personal friend of Charles’, became pivotal to the government in Christiania, while the diplomat Georg Sibbern became the Norwegian prime minister in Stockholm. Charles also signalled that he would accept the abolition of the maligned office of governor of Norway, which could pave the way for the instalment of a prime minister in Christiania as well as better relations within the Swedish-Norwegian union. Returning home from a period of convalescence in the Alps, a deeply unhappy Stang found himself excluded from the government, which he had expected to rejoin.⁵⁸

Political dynamics were also subject to change in Norway. Like its Swedish counterpart, the government gradually became more closely knit—and more competent and ambitious. Charles was unconcerned. What would happen, asked Birch, if the king and his ministers failed to agree? “Oh, that will no doubt be all right. The only issues we might have our differences about, in some case or other, are military promotions; but I am more familiar with such matters than you are. Otherwise, in general you will have your say on matters, and I will go along with you”, replied Charles. This was the answer from a regent who now believed he had two sets of ministers who shared his views and were amicably disposed towards him.⁵⁹

A Troublesome Union

Taken as a whole, the 1850s were a harmonious time for the Swedish-Norwegian union, a harmony brought about in part by the upsurge of Scandinavianism after 1856. This may, however, best reflect the degree of conflict in the union in the first few decades after its inception in 1814 and before its dissolution in 1905. While many Norwegians agreed that the union provided geostrategic security, Sweden’s position of power left them feeling insecure. The result was that Norway, the weaker partner, clung onto its institutional independence and insisted on nominal equality. Moreover, the Norwegians were reluctant to commit funds and troops to military defence measures beyond the country’s borders. This proved frustrating even for the most sympathetically minded in the stronger part of the union.⁶⁰

Generally, most Norwegian officials and Swedish liberals could unite in the wish for a closer institutional union built on the principle of equality between the two partners, even though their motives were not always identical to those of their monarch. Some of those sympathetic to the union, however, also dreamed of reform and a union parliament that could limit the king’s power. Attempts at reform in the 1850s came to revolve around three specific issues: customs union, harmonisation of laws and rights, and military defence. To propose revisions to these issues, two committees and a defence commission were set up in 1855–1856.⁶¹

Sweden and Norway already had a limited customs union (1827), which provided duty-free trade across their land border and customs duties reduced by half on goods transported by sea. An expansion of this legislation had been discussed a number of times, especially since Sweden was moving towards free trade in the 1840s. Norwegian resistance to a customs union, seen by many as a Swedish shortcut to a closer union, created friction between the countries. A number of Swedish liberals who favoured free trade came to regard Norway as an obstructive and destructive partner in economic matters more so than a constitutional paragon. A revision of the customs union was rejected by the Norwegian Storting in May 1857—much to the frustration of the Swedes and of Charles.⁶² In the autumn of 1857, a proposal from the committee established to consider the bilateral validity of judgements from the high courts of the two kingdoms of the union suffered the same fate.⁶³

A defence commission under Charles’ personal chairmanship was established in 1856 to explore the possibility of Swedish-Norwegian military integration. Seen through the king’s eyes, this was to make a virtue out of necessity, since the conclusion of the Crimean War had increased the threat from Russia, while the German states could appear threatening from the south. The central and most controversial proposal from the commission was that each kingdom should contribute troops—amounting to 2.5% of their population—to the collective defence of the union. This would provide 37,500 Norwegians and 90,000 Swedes for the union army and the navy, and the financial contributions to the common defence budget should be divided 5/17 and 12/17. However, the Norwegian constitution set limits to the deployment of Norwegian troops beyond the country’s borders, and this meant that the commission’s Norwegian members opposed presenting this as a bill in parliament. Furthermore, the opposition in the Storting in Norway would not countenance a proposal for rearmament and general conscription, nor would it accept that the king should be able freely to administer military funding in both countries. The rising star of the opposition, the lawyer Johan Sverdrup, explained that, from a purely military perspective, he was not competent to object to the proposal but that he nevertheless opposed it as what he saw as a case of institutional amalgamation with Sweden. Nor did the majority in the Riksdag in Stockholm, still remembering the king’s foreign policy activism during the Crimean War, wish to extend the king’s military or foreign policy room for manoeuvre in the union. In other words, a period of good Swedish-Norwegian relations was not sufficient to promote either a closer union or Scandinavianism.⁶⁴

There is no doubt that uneasy Swedish-Norwegian relations provided a foretaste of the challenges that would be faced by a Scandinavian union. Generally, it was difficult, even among the Scandinavianist ranks, to find those who would go along with anything other than complete freedom and autonomy for their own country. For all that, the Norwegian Scandinavianist Ludvig Kristensen Daa accepted that the opinions of the Norwegians were of lesser importance as long as Denmark and Sweden could agree.⁶⁵

Crown Prince Charles was disappointed that so little had come of these initiatives to strengthen the political union, but it only reinforced his own unionism and his Scandinavianism. Furthermore, attitudes toward unionism and Scandinavianism became criterions for his choice of ministers and advisers. This meant that Scandinavianism was given a foothold in Swedish-Norwegian government circles, while in Denmark the new national liberal government also opened up new possibilities for Scandinavianism.⁶⁶

Keeping No One Happy

What was at core of the conflict that between Denmark and the German Confederation that ran from 1856 until it resulted in war in 1864? The short answer is that the crux of the matter was Danish national sovereignty and the rights of the Germans within the unitary state. As the Germans saw it, the Danish majority within the state repressed the German minority. This was not only an affront to German nationalism, but in their view also an assault on the agreements made in the wake of the First Schleswig War. As the Danes saw it, the demands of the German minority were not only unreasonable. They posed a clear and present danger to Denmark’s national independence. In their view, caving into German demands would not only give the German minority the decisive say in all matter relating to the unitary state. It would de facto give the German Confederation the right to decide constitutional matters within the unitary state and Denmark proper alike, turning it into a German puppet state. These fears were further fuelled by Prussia’s territorial ambitions. The opposing views were additionally inflamed by a nationalist press in both Germany and Denmark. Hence, public opinion, real grievances and a well-founded fear made compromise close to impossible and a new war next to unavoidable unless the unitary state reverted to absolutism.

The long and detailed answer has due with the different interpretations of the agreements made in the wake of the war. While, in 1855, Prussia and Austria had congratulated Denmark on what they considered to be a wise unitary constitution, the two great powers now wished to see the constitution altered in the name of the Confederation, since, according to them, it broke the agreements of 1851–1852. This German interpretation was widespread in European diplomacy and has left its mark on the international writing of history. The majority of Danish politicians, including the professors of law, C.C. Hall and A.F. Krieger, did not believe that these agreements were legally binding and that, even if they were, they would require that, in respect of the London Protocol, the German Confederation should not involve itself in the state’s internal affairs. For them, the royal pronouncement of January 1852 was the legal basis for the unitary state, and that had been given by the king of his own free will and without obligations.⁶⁷

Legally, they had a case. Diplomatically, the Danish small state was only supported unconditionally by Sweden-Norway in a tug-of-war with two great powers and the German Confederation that had a right to involve itself in the affairs of Holstein and Lauenburg. Internal splits in the Danish government only made matters worse. The new council president C.C.G Andræ, wanted to maintain the constitution that he himself had written, while the state’s foreign minister, L.N. Scheele, wanted compliance. When, in April 1857, Scheele accused Andræ of lying, the air in the corridors of power flew with papers and invective, and the government collapsed.⁶⁸

In mid-May, the king had to accept a government under C.C. Hall, who became a central figure in Danish politics. According to his followers, Hall had a particular ability to create trust and to reach compromises. No one enjoyed greater trust in the Rigsdag, the cabinet and among the public, and he succeeded better than previous council presidents in controlling Frederick VII and determining the government’s policy.⁶⁹

Nevertheless, Hall’s leadership qualities were disputed. Some saw him as lacking in principle; others saw him as vague. Scandinavianists and those looking for a Denmark to the Eider were appalled by his indecisive politics, and there were also Swedes and Norwegian politicians who had difficulty in working out where he stood. On the other hand, Bismarck called Hall “a wise man”. If the judgements of historians have differed widely, it is because his archive is suspiciously empty, because he shared his thoughts with very few people, and because what he said varied depending on the time, the circumstance and the interlocutor. Hall spoke in favour of the unitary state, of Denmark to the Eider and of a unified Scandinavia. This has led to three interpretations. One claims that Hall’s policy was an organised retreat from the Elbe to the Eider. This was to demonstrate Danish goodwill, German unreasonableness and the impossibility of the unitary state in order to create a Danish nation state or a Scandinavian federation. The second tradition sees his policy as a defence of the constitutional unitary state, until German and Danish nationalism forced him into an Eider policy. The last interpretation sees Hall as a flexible and pragmatic politician who possessed some of Bismarck’s qualities and who prolonged the conflict in order to exploit the opportunities it might present.⁷⁰

In the spring of 1857, Hall attempted to create a coalition government with leading Holstein politicians. Whether this attempt was genuine or tactical is disputed. It failed, and instead the Holstein estates were summoned after pressure from Germany. But Hall did not, as Prussia and Austria had demanded, present them with a new unitary constitution but with a proposal for a freer constitution for Holstein and a new division of power between the Unitary Parliament and the regional assemblies. The proposal fell on stony ground in Holstein.⁷¹

Prussia and Austria sent the matter to the German Confederation, which in February 1858 declared the unitary constitution to be a breach of the agreements of 1851–1852. Denmark would have to find a solution that the Holsteiners could accept and that the Confederation could approve. The question was whether an understanding would be possible. In the duchies, the landed aristocracy wanted a unitary state based on its premises, while the Schleswig-Holsteiners wanted a Schleswig-Holstein. In the Confederation, Austria wanted to see a solution that lived up to 1852–1852 agreements, the minor German states backed the Schleswig-Holstein side, while Prussia served its own interests. Danes were divided between the unitary state, Denmark to the Eider and Scandinavia. While Hall’s aims are unclear, the means were evident. The agreements of 1851–1852 could not be used to find a lasting solution, and he therefore wanted a European conference. The great powers were aware of this. Great Britain and France were open to the idea, while Russia deliberately sabotaged it. The Russians feared that a conference would lead to the breakdown of the unitary state and the creation of a Scandinavian union.⁷²

The fear harboured by national liberal leaders and, indeed, by Hall was that external pressure and internal division would lead to “a reactionary ministry” or “a coup d’état after the abdication” of Frederick VII, which would turn the clock back to “before 1847”. The king’s ageing uncle, Prince Ferdinand, who officially followed him in the succession, was openly rooting for the return of absolutism, while the czar believed that the monarch’s abdication should be succeeded by absolutism under Prince Christian of Glücksburg. According to Andræ’s wife, Hansine, and A.F. Krieger, the prince was not against the idea. They noted confidential conversations in their diaries. According to Mrs Andræ, in February the prince had attempted to convince the council president “to introduce absolutism”. When Hall rejected this as naive, the prince, according to Krieger, sought “a political conversation” with his brother-in-law, the opposition politician Baron Blixen, to win him over to absolutism. When the baron pointed out that this would be to renege on the king’s undertaking—not to mention on the constitution that he had signed—Christian had spoken about His Majesty’s abdication and “the European recognition of his right of succession”. Blixen objected that his rule would be unstable with an ex-king in the country. The prince’s answer was that Frederick would have to be sent abroad.⁷³

The core figures of the government, Andræ, Krieger and Hall, discussed three alternative exit strategies: “to throw themselves in the arms of Sweden-Norway”, “to give way in everything” towards Germany, or “war”. The latter would happen if Holstein—as Krieger wanted—was separated from the state. Hall, on the other hand, thought that they should be compliant until it became clear to Europe that Denmark and Holstein could not be in the same state, at which point Denmark to the Eider could become a reality. Andræ wanted to defend the unitary constitution that he had created. If the Confederation tried to occupy Holstein and Lauenburg, the Danish army should be withdrawn without a fight from the two German duchies and a European solution should be sought. Krieger was prepared to support Andræ’s tactics if he took responsibility as foreign minister. This Andræ refused to do without Hall’s support, but for Hall the alternative was a new unitary constitution, which with the support of the British would force a conference in London. These internal discussions in the government reflected the political debate. The agrarian nationalists demanded a Scandinavian alliance and a Nordic army at the Eider, while unitary statists were arguing for continued negotiation, a staunch defence of the unitary constitution and 40,000 men stationed at the Elbe.⁷⁴

The government chose the middle road. Holstein was promised further freedoms and an alteration to the unitary constitution through the Unitary Parliament, but the Confederation’s right to involve itself in the constitutional crisis was rejected. Austria was prepared to accept this response, but Prussia and the smaller German states were not. Denmark was given six weeks to provide a satisfactory answer. Otherwise, Holstein and Lauenburg would be occupied, with a number of states also proposing the occupation of Schleswig. Denmark’s envoy in Frankfurt made it clear that war could only be avoided if the constitution of the unitary state was suspended in the German duchies until a new unitary constitution had been arrived at.⁷⁵

It was this solution that Hall managed to push through at a heated meeting in the cabinet on 7 July 1858. Andræ, who saw it as a decisive step away from the unitary state and towards a Denmark to the Eider, handed in his resignation in protest. Ever since, there have been debates as to which course would have been the wisest. Andræ’s policy would have put Denmark in a better diplomatic position at the negotiation table, but it would certainly have led to war. Hall’s policy postponed the war in the hope of finding a better moment or a peaceful solution. The proposal to suspend the unitary constitution satisfied the neutral great powers, but the Confederation wanted to know how the duchies would be governed and a new constitution created. At the same time, it was noted from abroad that the change of government was, in reality, leading to a change in the political system. Traditionally, the foreign ministry was the citadel of the unitary statists. Now Hall took over and installed Krieger’s protégé, the national liberal lawyer Peter Vedel, as permanent secretary.⁷⁶

Holstein’s contribution to the state budget was reduced to a minimum, and Denmark attempted to outline a new unitary constitution. This satisfied Austria and Bavaria, but a majority in the Confederation continued military preparations. If Denmark did not come to heel, German Confederation troops would occupy Holstein. Few believed that the German troops would stop at the Eider. Prussia demanded that the unitary constitution should be completely rescinded in Holstein and Lauenburg while negotiations continued. On the advice of the neutral great powers, the Danish government once again gave way in November 1858. Constitutionally, the result was a Denmark to the Eider, as the constitution for the unitary state only applied to the kingdom and Schleswig. The Germans put their occupation of Holstein on hold. Meanwhile, the Danes had been humiliated, and support for the unitary state fell within Denmark.⁷⁷

The Hunting Party

In August 1857, Otto von Bismarck, at this time serving as a Prussian diplomat, was journeying in Scandinavia. An aristocratic Swedish-Danish hunting party had invited him on an annual partridge shoot in Scania. This party included a whole range of politicians, aristocrats and royalty, with Baron Blixen at its centre. Blixen had provided the link to Bismarck, whom he had acquainted when they both studied at Göttingen. The majority of the hunting party were Scandinavianists and the party thus became something of an informal society for aristocratic Scandinavianists of such diverse political colour as the Danish agrarian nationalist Hans Rasmussen Carlsen and the conservative Swedish “junker” Rudolf Tornérhjelm. The complications in establishing his regency prevented Charles himself from taking part in the hunt that summer, but Bismarck was there. His recent discussions about European politics with Napoleon III had shown that they were both considering a number of alternatives. Scandinavianism was one of them, and an obvious topic of discussion during Bismarck’s hunt in Scania.⁷⁸

Bismarck also stopped off in Copenhagen. He was not especially keen on Denmark, which he regarded as revolutionary and a constitutional house of cards. He tried to convince Hall that Denmark itself should bring the constitutional conflict up before the German Confederation Diet, but Hall was quick to realize that this would only serve to legitimise further German meddling in internal Danish affairs. Bismarck was also granted an audience with Frederick VII but was unimpressed by the king’s pathological lying and exaggeration.⁷⁹

Before leaving Berlin, Bismarck had consulted both the Prussian king and the foreign minister, Otto von Manteuffel. The religious and romantic king Frederick William IV was interested in a closer understanding between Protestant Scandinavia and Prussian-led northern Germany, while Bismarck reached the conclusion that it was wisest to wait for the right moment for Prussia to make a move. The question was whether a solution favourable to Prussian interests could be found through Scandinavianism. This was one of the reasons that brought Bismarck to Scandinavia. Here, Bismarck spoke in favour of an alliance between a unified Scandinavia and Germany, which would hold a front against Slavs and Gauls, and he was told that Scandinavianism was widespread in Sweden and Denmark. Blixen also explained to him that the Bernadottes had no interest in Holstein and that this opened the possibility for an amicable solution with Prince Christian.⁸⁰

In November, Bismarck wrote to Blixen and gave the impression that Prussia was not fearful of a unified Scandinavia but that he was doubtful that Russia and Britain would accept it. Furthermore, he acknowledged that German-Scandinavian relations would be poisonous until the conflict about the duchies was resolved. Bismarck was not particularly impressed by the aristocrats he had met in Scania. In his view, Scandinavianism lacked competent leadership because it clung to the standpoint of an Eider Denmark and because Scandinavianists generally preferred France as the benefactor of a united Scandinavia. But still Bismarck did not lose faith in Scandinavianism as a possibility that he could manipulate and exploit to resolve the conflict about the duchies in Prussia’s favour.⁸¹

In the meantime, the Scandinavianists had turned their attention towards the new possibilities opened up by Charles’ regency and the new governments now in place in the three Scandinavian countries. In the summer of 1857 Denmark’s council president C.C. Hall tried to breathe new life into the alliance negotiations with Sweden-Norway by explaining that the Danish government had not been able to accept the offer of an alliance that only applied to part of the state because that would have undermined the argument it was presenting to the European powers. Even though the unitary state and Scandinavianism were not completely incompatible even in Hall’s complex ideology, his attempt was probably intended to present Scandinavianism as harmless for those groups sympathetic to the unitary state on which his government was dependent. However, those Scandinavianists who had put their trust in Hall pursuing a Scandinavianist Eider policy were furious and accused Hall of being a unitary statist. At the same time, Hall was quietly in the process of making an Eider policy and Scandinavianism into the main plank of his political programme. As early as in March, the women’s rights campaigner Hansine Andræ (also the wife of Hall’s predecessor) had noted that “Hall is at the moment basically dead-set on going in for becoming a Scandinavian in true earnest and on throwing the unitary state away like an old glove”. However, Hall could not do so before it became politically possible. For many, there was no middle ground between Eider Scandinavianism and reactionary unitary statism, but for Hall it was all about maintaining a balance until the right moment arose.⁸²

The currents of nationalism in Denmark and the conflict about the duchies had not yet been pushed to the extreme, but the process had begun. In October, the agrarian nationalists demanded that the unitary constitution be revoked, the June constitution introduced in Denmark and Schleswig, and an alliance entered into with Sweden-Norway. This was the start of a Danish mass mobilisation with Scandinavianist ramifications. The conflict with Prussia and Austria intensified in the autumn of 1857, when the question of the duchies was brought up in the Confederation Diet. German demands for influence in Schleswig was a real headache for Hall. Through Blixen and Christian Adolf Virgin, the Swedish-Norwegian envoy to Copenhagen, signals were sent to Stockholm that there were Scandinavianists in the Danish government. Very encouraging signals were sent in response. Baron Blixen, the national liberal merchant Alfred Hage and the estate holder Regnar Westenholz were in Stockholm discussing trade between Sweden-Norway and Denmark and were told by Charles that the time was right for the Danes “to get something done about a union with Sweden”.⁸³

This initiated a private diplomatic episode that until very recently was unknown to Scandinavian historians. During the autumn of 1857, while he regularly sought the counsel of Hall, D.G. Monrad and A.F. Krieger, Alfred Hage was in secret contact with Henning Hamilton, the architect and prime mover of the new Swedish government. The aim was to breathe new life into the alliance. The signals from Stockholm were initially so positive that Hamilton was virtually promising that the matter would be settled, and on Hamilton’s suggestion Hall appeared in November before the Swedish-Norwegian envoy in Copenhagen with the draft treaty. In the meantime, however, Charles had got cold feet. He could sense that Napoleon III was aiming to draw up a new map of Europe and that Scandinavianism was part of a larger plan, but the emperor’s policy of appeasement towards Russia after the Crimean War left him with doubts about the value of a French declaration of support. Napoleon’s rapprochement with Russia also created insecurity in Franco-British relations, as Britain was not enthused by Napoleon’s new-found relations to the czar. Among Scandinavianists, there was a general sense that they needed support from both Western powers against Russia. Furthermore, Charles’ new government was still in the process of being formed because he and Hamilton felt it wisest to wait until after the conclusion of the Riksdag in March 1858 before formally nominating it. From Paris, signals were being sent by the Swedish-Norwegian envoy and newly appointed foreign minister Ludvig Manderström indicating that he did not feel the moment was ripe for an alliance with Denmark. Well aware that they were risking a crisis in government even before the new ministers in place, Charles and a deeply embarrassed Hamilton thus rejected the alliance proposal from Hall.⁸⁴

Ironically enough, the situation had much in common with that of the previous spring, only in reverse. Both offers of alliance came during a change in government. While Scheele was involved in shooting down the Swedish-Norwegian proposal after he had stepped down as foreign minister, Manderström did so before he entered office. The difficulties with the alliance can as such be put down to chance but with hindsight, they were also a premonition.⁸⁵

The winter of 1858 was a quiet time for Scandinavianism. On his way from Paris to Stockholm at the end of March 1858 to take up his post as foreign minister, Manderström stopped off in Copenhagen to explain to Hall that a Scandinavian alliance would benefit neither Denmark nor Sweden-Norway but that it was in the interests of Sweden-Norway to support Denmark if the German powers demanded anything over and above Holstein and Lauenburg. He let Hall understand that the Prussian envoy in Paris had tried to convince him to partition Denmark between Prussia and Sweden-Norway but that he had rejected their overture. For Sweden-Norway, the tipping point was the Eider.⁸⁶

Manderström also had a meeting with Alfred Hage, who attempted to revive the alliance negotiations he had helped initiate the previous autumn. Towards Hamilton, Hage had also dangled the prospect of using his connections in London. In the spring of 1858, however, neither Hamilton nor Charles was prepared to pick up the threads of the alliance again. Hamilton let the Scandinavianists know that “on these matters he often spoke with the crown prince and how enthusiastic he was for a confluence of the mental, spiritual and material powers of Scandinavia’s Nordic countries” but that “as a consequence of the messages he was receiving from both France and England, it is regarded as necessary in the best interests of Denmark not to whip up clouds on the diplomatic horizon”. This was a clear signal from a Swedish government intent on not rocking the boat for the time being.⁸⁷

The calm did not last long. When the Danish-German conflict intensified during the spring and summer of 1858, Manderström sensed that the German demands extended further than to the Eider and that Hall’s negotiating policy was not making progress. Charles noticed this as well. As a result, a more active policy from the Swedish-Norwegian side was introduced whereby Sweden-Norway signalled preparedness to assist Denmark if Great Britain and France became more firmly involved in the conflict. The Swedish-Norwegian envoys in London and Paris were told that, if the Confederation occupied Holstein, the conflict would turn into a European question. Manderström was prepared to step in alongside the Western powers, but nevertheless did not feel that it would be out of the question to work together with Prussia to find a solution.⁸⁸

In 1858, Bismarck had two meetings with the Swedish estate owner and Scandinavianist Rudolf Tornérhjelm, who was close to Crown Prince Charles. Politics was a natural topic of conversation. Bismarck insisted that the German demand was an annulment of the unitary constitution and that the Provincial Diet in Holstein should be summoned, all of which Tornérhjelm reported to Hall in September. However, Bismarck also provided Tornérhjelm with something else to tell in Copenhagen. If only the conflict about the duchies could be resolved, Bismarck would like to see a unified Scandinavia in a German alliance. The time was not yet right, but it might soon be, he said. This was basically the same position that Bismarck had taken the year before, which had inspired other Scandinavianists to approach him as well. The Danish estate owner and politician Hans Rasmussen Carlsen, also a member of the hunting party, had taken up his pen to warn Bismarck that prolonging the conflict over Holstein would entail “a farcical Scandinavianism” and in the long term “a revolutionary Scandinavian union”, if the opportunity was not seized while Scandinavianism had “a particular dynastic stamp”. As such Carlsen offered Bismarck an aristocratic, politically moderate and German-friendly brand of Scandinavianism. Carlsen proposed that the German duchies should be separated, while to Bismarck Tornérhjelm maintained that occupation of Holstein by the Confederation was likely to get things moving and make Denmark accept the German demands, “as long as they are not too unreasonable”. These aristocratic Scandinavianists put their faith in Bismarck and began to work towards getting Sweden-Norway to work out a solution with him.⁸⁹

When Denmark effectively did what Bismarck had asked them to and annulled the unitary constitution in November 1858, Manderström believed that the conflict was on its way to being resolved. Like the aristocratic Scandinavianists, Manderström began to think that Sweden-Norway could help solve the Dano-German conflict over the duchies in collaboration with Prussia. Manderström “aims to stay on Prussia’s side”, was the warning from the liberal-radical Swedish newspaper editor F.T. Borg, who could not imagine Scandinavia and Germany on the same side. But the aristocratic Scandinavianists of the hunting party could—at least for the time being.⁹⁰

The private diplomacy conducted by the hunting party, in its contacts with Bismarck, and by Alfred Hage in his relations to Hamilton in 1857–1858 say much about the development of Scandinavianism since the 1840s. Hage represented the burgher national liberals who had shaped Scandinavianist ideology and defined the movement, while Hamilton, as a conservative aristocrat, belonged to the social stratum that had been resistant prior to 1848 but then embraced Scandinavianism as a means to enhance Sweden’s influence. Hamilton was against liberal constitutional reform in Sweden, but for the national liberal Hage pan-national ideology and support for Denmark’s June constitution of 1849 went hand in hand. The aristocrats of the hunting party in the circle around Crown Prince Charles had much politicality in common with the deeply conservative Bismarck. Baron Blixen and Carlsen, who had in reality become leaders of that wing of Danish peasant sympathisers who were trying to eject Hall’s government from office and push Denmark more strongly towards Scandinavianism, had little political common ground with Bismarck, but as nobles and owners of large estates they were very much of the same breed in social terms. Carlsen and Blixen would later take the lead in a new attempt at national mass mobilisation in Denmark. At the same time, they assured Bismarck that this did not mean they had become radical. Carlsen wrote to Bismarck that “now you know from last summer [Bismarck’s visit to Scania in 1857] that I am myself in a certain sense Scandinavian but only in so far as it is compatible with the law and with history”.⁹¹

By the end of the 1850s, Scandinavianism had become an ideological umbrella for disparate political factions and activists. On the one hand, this provided significant potential for national mobilisation around a common cause, but on the other hand it made Scandinavianism into a conflict zone of its own. Influential Swedish newspaper editors like S.A. Hedlund and C.F. Ridderstad considered Scandinavianism a hindrance to political reform and felt in any event that any form of Scandinavian unification should be on Swedish terms. At the same time, they feared that Scandinavian mobilisation in support of Denmark would risk plunging Sweden into a sea of imponderable misfortunes. Other liberal Swedish Scandinavianists regarded the cause of Scandinavianism as so sacred that they put aside demands for political reform and were happy to collaborate with Charles and the aristocrats of the hunting party. In Norway, on the other hand, the author Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson was attempting to create a more politically radical Scandinavianism without a dynastic element. He saw a potential ally in Carl Ploug, who had not forgotten his political past in opposition to the monarchs. Ploug was vacillating, however, between the incompatible political factions and directions of Scandinavianism. “Scandinavianism is neither a personal nor simply a dynastic issue”, he declared, “but it is a major question of spiritual, material and national interest, and for us Danes above all a Danish issue”. This came to be used against him and Denmark in accusations of Danish national self-interest. However, for the Danes Scandinavianism was a question of national survival.⁹²

War in the Near Future

The Crimean War did not revolutionise international politics overnight, but a new era had arrived in which belief in principles would be replaced by power. France and Britain had appeared to demonstrate that war, even against another great power, could yield results at less than exhaustive cost. In the words of historians Roy Bridge and Roger Bullen, “[i]n the 1850s and 1860s most of the governments of the great powers believed that they could afford short wars without emptying their treasuries and saddling themselves with enormous debts. At the same time many intellectuals began to argue that war was an essential activity in the onward march of civilization”.⁹³ This was also true of Scandinavia. Moreover, Austria had alienated Russia, which was at any event weakened and introspective, and Prussia was no stranger to exploiting this to redress power relations in the German Confederation. Thus, the great powers no longer held individual nor collective interest or ability to uphold the international system created at Vienna in 1814–1815, or its regulating mechanisms. This made it possible for men like Bismarck, Napoleon III and Piedmont’s prime minister, Camillo Cavour, to apply ruthless means to change the map of Europe and shape the future. War became their instrument for paving the way for their desired diplomatic and political solutions: to destroy the order that had been created in Vienna and expand their own states. In his conversations with Bismarck in the spring of 1857, Napoleon III pondered how “a war in the near future” could unite Italy and expand France and Prussia. This was a clear sign that international relations were now becoming more a matter of pursuing concrete short-term, revisionist and even aggressive goals than maintaining an international system based on treaties and principles. This was a profound change.⁹⁴

The Crimean War also marked a step towards the creation of a favourable new international framework for national movements, helped in no small part by Russia’s disengagement from European affairs, Austria’s weakness in lieu of Russian support and France, Britain and Prussia’s preparedness to exploit nationalist sentiments. National movements were also a leap towards the era of mass politics. For this reason, the historian David Goldfrank has described the Crimean War and its aftermath rather than the revolutions of 1848 as the true “springtime of the peoples”. It is no coincidence that 1857 was the year in which the Italian nationalist Guiseppe Mazzini launched his map of Europe based on the threshold principle, with 11 states or federations of closely related nations. At the same time, Europe’s national movements were at a crossroads. While Mazzini continued to believe in a Europe of the States based on peace and fraternity, and continued to plot radical coups and uprisings to help bring it about, such as Carlo Pisacane’s failed landing at Sapri in 1857, another leading Italian nationalist, Daniele Manin, abandoned his radicalism. By 1856, he had come to regard support for Piedmont’s King Victor Emmanuel as “the best practical use” of the principle of Italian national unity and independence. The Scandinavianists came to the same realisation and found a willing ally in the house of Bernadotte.⁹⁵

The Realpolitik that the Scandinavianists wished to emulate was based around the flexible use of any means in order to achieve the overall aim and to exploit the interests of the great powers by grasping the right tool at the crucial moment. In this respect, the mid- to late 1850s mark a watershed for political Scandinavianism, both in terms of the composition and ideological outlook of the movement and its international dissemination and impact. It was certainly no coincidence that the year 1857 witnessed both the introduction of the very term “Scandinavianism” into the Dutch vocabulary and the high point of its usage in the Dutch press, one newspaper defining it as “the project to reunite the crowns of Denmark and Sweden-Norway on a single head”. The Scandinavianists themselves were very aware that they were entering a new era in which politics were becoming the art of the possible. In his pamphlet La Scandinavie, ses craintes et ses espérances of 1856, the Swedish Scandinavianist Gustaf Lallerstedt, a member of King Oscar’s circle, concluded that the Scandinavianists should “from now on lose no opportunity to serve our interests. […] We must never forget that the goal to which we strive and which alone can secure her future is the political unity of Scandinavia”.⁹⁶