To be a Fox and a Lion - A Different Nordic Renaissance

By late August, Christian II and Elisabeth were back in Copenhagen.


The king had brought a cohort of Netherlandish artists and artisans with him and these were immediately set to work in the capital’s secretariats and the royal hundreds in the Zealandic hinterlands.

As one of the conservative councillors remarked in a letter to his wife it seemed as if “... His Grace wants to completely ruin the honest merchant people of Amager Isle and replace them with Dutchmen and other ruffians.”[2] To claim the king wanted to populate his domains with farmers and merchants from the Low Countries might be to grant the conservative opposition too much credence, but there can be no doubt that a societal transformation was in the works.

The chancery immediately put the new men to the task of going over the realm’s finances, seeking out ways to maximise the profits for the king’s exchequer. Likewise, a score of Antwerpian merchants who had journeyed to Denmark at Christian II’s invitation were initiated into the charter of the steadily blossoming Nordic Trade Company. One of the main obstacles when it came to streamlining the crown’s incomes and expenses was the fact that a great deal of the fiefs were still enfeoffed on terms disadvantageous to the king. Although the state finances were steadily improving, a majority of the Jutish fiefs remained either pledged or given in service to members of the higher aristocracy; nobles who continued to question the validity of Christian’s kingship. There were, however, some exceptions. The king’s friend, Mogens Gøye, held the fief and strong castle of Skanderborg as a pledge against a massive loan, but Gøye was wholly on the side of his sovereign. Indeed, the Skanderborg castellan was unequivocal in his support of the rights of the crown vis-a-vis the council of the realm. Time and time again, Gøye had stressed the nobility’s duty to serve the king and support him in the advancement of the realm[3]. Such support would be vital if Christian was to reform the feudal society.





The second half of the 15th century had already seen an increased centralisation and monetisation of state finances, fuelled by need to fund the union wars with Sweden. Furthermore, the political and economic strength of the crown grew steadily towards the turn of the century, owing in large parts to an increase in the maritime trade through the Sound as well as higher tariffs from market towns. These developments had been mirrored by king Hans’ employment of burghers and men from the lower aristocracy in the fief administration. Such a trend was common in other Western European states where Charles VII of France and Henry VII of England both had relied on men of lower birth in restoring their kingdoms. The elevation of members of the lower aristocracy and burgher class continued under Christian II, in obvious conflict with the stipulations of his accession charter. However, the king, heeding the advice of Hans Mikkelsen (mayor of Malmø in Scania and a major shareholder in the trade company) as well as reform-minded nobles such as the Gøye and Bille brothers proceeded carefully, limiting burgher fief-holders to the isle of Zealand and a few inconsequential domains in Western and Northern Jutland[4].

Nevertheless, regardless of what the accession charter might stipulate, it was clear that the administration of the fiefs was one of the keys to bringing the heart of the Oldenburg triple monarchy on pair with the other emerging New Monarchies of the West.




As the above figures show, the feudal system of administration constituted almost 40% of the crown’s income[5]. In order to reform the system and bring the nobility in line as loyal civil servants instead of minor lordlings with their own standing armies, Christian needed to redeem the large amount of fiefs currently held as pledges. However, this required funds which the crown’s purse did not presently have and it would certainly estrange some of the more wavering members of the aristocracy, especially in Jutland.

Already rumours of dissent were spreading from Riberhus on the ducal borders, where Predbjørn Podebusk sat as fiefholder. His wealth was in many ways compatible to that of Mogens Gøye, sometimes even surpassing that of the Skanderborg castellan. However, in his politics he differed wildly. An old-school religious conservative and a councilar constitutionalist to boot, Podebusk saw the king’s plans for reforms as a Damocles Sword hanging over the heads of both church and aristocracy. A shrewd and ambitious man, he had spent the past years cultivating a political alliance with other councillors, Iver Munk, bishop of Ribe and Niels Stygge Rosenkrantz, bishop of Børglum being the most prominent. All three had been members of the shadowy cabale which had tried to convince Frederick, the king’s uncle, to take the throne instead of Christian not ten year previous.





In Gottorp, the hitherto cautious Frederick Oldenburg was beginning to move. Ever since his elder brother had tried to force him into the church in the 1470s, Frederick had been prickish about his honour and station. In 1482, supported by the formidable dowager queen Dorothea of Brandenburg, he had succeeded in seeing the rulership of the duchies of Schleswig and Holstein divided between himself and king Hans. Although the ducal (Gottorpian) and royal (Segebergian) parts were in theory united in feudal allegiance to the king of Denmark, the powerful equestrian nobility of the duchies favoured Frederick by far. Furthermore, the duke of Gottorp continued to advance claims on the Norwegian throne, styling himself “... rightly chosen heir to Norway.”[7]

With Christian II’s new understanding with the emperor and the subsequent transfer of enfeoffment rights to the king of Denmark, Frederick’s position was swiftly deteriorating. Considering the duke's particular sense of justice, it was certain that his nephew’s newfound authority would not go unchallenged. By Michaelmas 1521, the king had summoned his uncle to Copenhagen to discuss the new situation in the duchies, but Frederick refused, feigning illness. However, the king ignored the slight, comparing his uncle to “... an old hen who did not like to leave the comfort of his cozy nest.”[8] Soon, administrative and legal reforms took precedent to solving the Holsteinian issue.

Since time immemorial Denmark had been governed under three separate regional laws: one for Scania, one for Jutland and one for Zealand and the lesser isles. With one stroke Christian and his lawyers at the Copenhagen colleges welded these three into one quintessential body of legislation - the Rigslov, the Law of the Realm[9]. Published on the Day of the Epiphany, the 6th of January 1522, the law was a masterful combination of renaissance humanism and crown centralisation - creating a unified and streamlined legal practice that greatly enhanced the power of the sovereign. A new civil service, completely beholden to the king was created, the office of a so-called skultus[10] being created. The skultus would take on the role of police, criminal prosecutor and arbitrator in all matters within the market towns. The bonds between the crown and the burghers were thus strengthened considerably. Furthermore, the law made sharp provisions for the education of peasant children just as it forbade the worst kinds of noble abuse vis-a-vis the peasantry. One paragraph distinctively outlawed the practice of villenaige on Zealand terming it:




Although the nobility of Zealand remained the most pliable in the realm, and as such did little to protest the king’s new laws, the distinctly anti-aristocratic corpus of legislation caused a considerable stir within the nobility. Indeed, the aristocratic estate in Denmark was more akin to a close-knit caste, consisting approximately 2 permille of the total population. However, social mobility within the estate remained dynamic on account of the continuous split and reassembly of landed properties through marriage. As such a nobleman might easily find new lands in a part of the realm different from where he grew up.

Combined with the Great Reces of 1520, the Law of the Realm had succeeded in creating, as one scholar noted, “... a reactionary axis around which the crown’s enemies could rally.” Furthermore, the royal appointment of Christiern Pedersen to the episcopal see of Lund had been a blatant violation of the king’s accession charter, which also incurred the ire of the councilar constitutionalists. A sentiment only made stronger by the 1519 Christmas coup in Stockholm. As such, whilst the king pored over legal books, his uncle Frederik had amble threads to spin a web of discontent between Gottorp, Jutland and Lübeck.




The hegemon of the Wendish Hansa had been no less alarmed than the duke of Gottorp by Christian’s newfound rights of enfeoffment. Already the German kontors were struggling with increased competition from Dutch traders. If the Nordic realms succeeded in establishing their own mercantile company, backed by the arms of the Oldenburg monarchy, then Lübeck’s preeminence in the Baltic would soon wither away. Something would have to be done. Luckily for the Hansa, the timing could not have been more perfect. Only if the king’s campaign in Sweden had ended in disaster would the soil have been more fertile for domestic turmoil.

By way of the Gottorpian chancellor, Wolfgang Uttenhof, a number of carefully concealed and encrypted letters were exchanged between the Hanseatic mayors and duke Frederick. Money was raised, ostensibly for the refurbishment of the Wendish trading cogs. For some unknown reason, the fields outside the Holstentor soon became awash with encamped Landsknechts. This was a time of secrecy, hooded cloaks and mumbled commands in dark rooms. Contact was also established with Bogislaw X duke of Pomerania, whose daughter Frederick had taken for his second wife in 1514. Finally, Henry, duke of Braunschweig-Lüneburg, no friend to the king of Denmark, was drawn into the web[12].

However, the Frederickian cause could not rest solely on the duke’s wounded pride. If he were to defend his usurpation, and there can be no doubt that this was the end-goal of the duke’s ambitions, Frederick needed constitutional legitimacy. Enter the bishop of Ribe’s brother, Mogens Munk[13]. Munk was a legal man, secunded to the supreme regional court of Jutland with a knack for brokering hard deals and consoling estranged parties. His position allowed him to travel freely, which he did often. Mostly to visit his brother in Ribe, where he coincidentally would also pay his respects to Predbjørn Podebusk. Slowly but steadily the conspirators gathered support amongst the lower Jutish nobility, charging the king with tyranny, corruption and the imposition on the realm of foreign practices. Their secret weapon was to be the ius resistendi embedded in the royal accession charter.

Shortly before Easter 1522, Christian had resolved to bring his uncle to heel. A second command went forth, summoning the duke to a meeting in Kolding, closer to the border between Schleswig and the Danish realm and once again, Frederick made excuses. When the king learned of his uncle’s intransigence, he reportedly flew into a rage, loudly declaring that before long his hounds would “... bay outside the walls of Gottorp!”[14] In other words: he would not ask nicely a third time. Instead, he would personally go to the ducal court and force his uncle to accept the new order in the duchies. When word of the king’s outburst reached Gottorp, the ever careful Frederick resolved to act.


He would not let his nephew humiliate him like his brother had.







Author's Note: So another update. Things are moving ahead and we’re starting to see how the great reforms of Christian II have created a united oppositional front between some rather formidable foes.

Also, if you haven’t voted already in the 2019 Turtledoves, why not consider dropping by give To be a Fox and a Lion a vote (or any of the other great timelines for that matter)?


Footnotes


[1]Both quotes are OTL

[2]Quote from a 1522 OTL petition by the council of the realm to halt the Dutch immigration

[3]This is all OTL. Mogens Gøye, although he was the richest nobleman in the realm, was surprisingly progressive in his politics.

[4]In OTL, Christian II was very determined in placing burghers on important fiefs as well as castles. Although Sigbrit isn’t around to influence the king as much as in OTL, I think Christian would still promote men of lower birth, albeit at a somewhat ‘controlled’ scale.

[5]These are OTL figures from 1524 - a time where Denmark had been through many calamities avoided ITTL. However, the figures does give a credible glimpse at what the royal incomes in the 1520s could have looked like for Christian II.

[6]This map is, if I should say so myself, rather unique. I know of no other map showing these administrative subdivisions. As it’s based on a wide variety of sources there might be some mistakes in the naming of the hundreds Schleswig, but otherwise it’s an accurate representation of the situation in OTL’s 1523 on the eve of Christian II’s flight. Changes are: The fiefs of Aalborghus, Krogen and Copenhagen were all under burgher fief-holders in OTL. These have been replaced ITTL by nobles of either lower birth or close friends of the king. An example is Eske Bille, who, in this timeline, remains in charge of Copenhagen Castle, another is Krogen, where Torben Oxe holds court. If one wanted to be completely true to the butterfly effect, some hundreds would have been amalgamated into completely different fiefs, but researching such developments would have taken a huge amount of time.

[7]All of this is OTL

[8]This being the characterisation of king Frederick given by the 17th century historian Arild Huitfeldt.

[9]The land- og bylov (law of the land and the city) of OTL. The naming of the legal reforms in our time is a later invention as the laws were ritually burned by the rebels in 1523 and thus never came into effect. ITTL, this does not come to pass and as such, I’ve chosen the official term Rigslov: Law of the Realm.

[10]From the Dutch word Schout. Just another example of how Dutchophile Christian II was.

[11]Own translation

[12]Both dukes were the only regional allies of Frederick I during much of his OTL reign.

[13]The grey eminence behind the coalition which led the OTL rebellion. Nasty fellow.

[14]A quote OTL attributed to the king after his conquest of Stockholm. In reality, it’s more probable that it’s a later invention of anti-Christian chroniclers to justify Frederick’s rebellion as a form of self-defense.