My latest articles: Danish crown jewels and Prince Henrik's travails

My article series about crown jewels continues in the November issue of Majesty (Vol. 38, No. 11), which is now on sale in Norway as well as in Britain. The third and final installment of the series deals with the Danish crown jewels, and in the same issue I also look at this summer's great royal "scandal", when Prince Henrik of Denmark, shortly before he was diagnosed with senile dementia, announced his refusal to be buried with his wife of fifty years, Queen Margrethe II, in Roskilde Cathedral unless she makes him King Consort. I also look at the historical background for his demand for the title of King Consort, which is actually not so far-fetched as many seem to believe, nor is it the idea of a demented mind.

My latest article: When Christian Frederik met Carl Johan

History is full of great adversaries who never met face to face - Elizabeth I of England and Mary Queen of Scots, Napoléon I and Wellington, Churchill and Hitler, to mention a few examples - and it is a little-known fact that Christian Frederik and Carl Johan, the two great rivals in the struggle about Norway 200 years ago, actually met on three occasions. This is the topic of a short article I have written in connection with this year's independence bicentenary. The article appears in Historie, no 2 - 2014, which went on sale last week.

On this date: 200 years of independence

Today is the National Day and today the celebrations of the bicentenary of Norway’s independence and the Constitution, which was passed on 16 May 1814 and signed and dated the following day, will reach their climax.
The Constitution is the world’s second oldest which remains in force today (following the American), although it has of course been amended on several occasions to adapt it to changing times. The Constitution and Norway’s independence were both results of the Napoleonic Wars.
The election of the heir to the Norwegian throne, Olav Håkonsson, to King of Denmark following the death of his maternal grandfather in 1376 meant that Norway and Denmark entered a personal union when Olav succeeded his father, Håkon VI Magnusson, as King of Norway in 1380. Norway and Denmark remained separate countries, but the gradual weakening of Norway saw Denmark take a dominant role and in 1536 Christian III abolished the Norwegian Council and decreed that Norway should henceforth be a Danish province on par with Jutland or Zeeland.
Towards the end of the eighteenth and beginning of the nineteenth century the new ideas of the Enlightenment and nationhood saw a growing dissatisfaction with Danish absolutist rule among the Norwegian elite, but things would most likely not have happened so quickly were it not for the Napoleonic Wars.
The British bombardment of Copenhagen and seizure of the Dano-Norwegian fleet in 1807 meant that Denmark-Norway entered the Napoleonic Wars on the French side and while other allies deserted Napoléon along with his luck, Frederik VI stuck by his side to the bitter end. Although this has often been lambasted as stubbornness Frederik VI actually had little choice.
After Russia had conquered Finland from Sweden in 1809, the French Marshal Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte had been elected Crown Prince of Sweden with the name Carl Johan. He turned everything around when he in 1812 joined Napoléon’s enemies and the allied great powers promised him Norway as some sort of compensation for the loss of Finland. For Frederik VI the most important thing was to retain his realm undivided, but the allied promises to Carl Johan meant that he had nothing to win by changing sides. Frederik VI believed that the Napoleonic Wars would end with a negotiated peace rather than a military victory and hoped that Napoléon at this peace conference would help him retain Norway.
This proved a severe miscalculation and after Napoléon’s defeat at Leipzig in October 1813 Carl Johan led his troops northwards and invaded Denmark, thus forcing Frederik VI to cede Norway to the King of Sweden in the Treaty of Kiel on 14 January 1814.
Since the previous year King Frederik’s cousin and heir, Prince Christian Frederik, had been his Lieutenant of the Realm in Norway and he was not willing to agree to the loss of Norway. He originally intended to proclaim himself King by virtue of Frederik VI’s renunciation, but at a meeting at Eidsvoll (80 kilometres north of Oslo) in February a group of advisers persuaded him that Frederik VI’s renunciation meant that the sovereignty had reverted to the people and that it was now for them to decide their future.
Assuming the title of Regent, Prince Christian Frederik convened a Constituent Assembly, which met at Eidsvoll on 10 April. There the 112 founding fathers in little more than a month produced a Constitution that drew on inspiration from, among others, the constitutions of the USA, France, the Batavian Republic and Sweden and that was one of the most radical of its age.
The Constitution was passed on 16 May 1814 and signed and dated the next day, when the assembly unanimously elected Christian Frederik King of Norway. He accepted the crown two days later, but his reign would only last for one summer.
The great powers stuck to their promises to Sweden, and at the end of July Sweden invaded Norway. This, the last of the many wars fought between the Nordic countries (and Sweden’s last war to this day), saw some Swedish victories and some Norwegians, but in the long term Norway would not have been able to resist the much stronger Swedish military. The war ended with a ceasefire agreed in Moss on 14 August 1814, whereby Crown Prince Carl Johan agreed to respect Norway’s Constitution and independence, while King Christian Frederik agreed to abdicate after convening an extraordinary Parliament that would pass a revised Constitution adapted to a union with Sweden.
King Christian Frederik signed his abdication on 10 October in the Garden Room at Bygdøy Royal Manor and left Norway forever sixteen days later. (25 years on he succeeded to the Danish throne as King Christian VIII). Parliament meanwhile entered into negotiations with Swedish commissioners about a constitutional revision and, led by the able Speaker, Wilhelm F. K. Christie, succeeded in maintaining almost all of it, although changes necessitated by the union were obviously made.
On 4 November 1814 Parliament elected King Carl XIII of Sweden King of Norway and the two countries thereby embarked on a union of crowns. However, this was a union completely different from the one with Denmark, as Sweden and Norway were both independent kingdoms in a very loose personal union. There were separate parliaments, constitutions, governments, laws, courts, churches, armies, navies, bureaucracies, royal households and so on; indeed the King and the foreign service were the only shared institutions. This arrangement lasted until 1905, when Norway seceded from the union.
King Christian Frederik was subsequently criticised for his conduct by people who thought it more honourable if more blood had been shed (even today there is a handful of people who proclaim his view), but today the established view is that by choosing negotiations over defeat Christian Frederik saved Norway’s independence and Constitution. In recognition of this a statue of King Christian Frederik was erected outside the Parliament Building today, where it will be unveiled by Queen Margrethe – a huge admirer of his – in the presence of the King and Queen at noon on Sunday.
Today the usual parades of children will take place all over the country followed by a celebration at Eidsvoll that is expected to attract thousands, including the royal family and the Danish and Swedish monarchs. Unlike the King and Queen of Sweden the Queen and Prince Consort of Denmark will also be present at the Royal Palace during the children’s parade, but will watch from a window rather than joining the royal family on the palace balcony.

My latest article: Fredensborg

The April issue of Majesty (Vol. 35, No. 4) went on sale yesterday and this month I write about the history and architecture of Fredensborg and the changing fortunes of this baroque palace - Frederik IV's Marly, gathering place for European royalty in the reign of Christian IX and now the favourite residence of the Queen and Prince Consort of Denmark, but at one stage reduced to army barracks and almost sold as an abandoned palace.

The best royal books of 2013

I did not have much time for writing book reviews on my blog in the past year, but 2013 saw the publication of several interesting works, so I thought I should at least give a brief survey of some of the best royal books of 2013 (in no particular order).

1. Jonas Nordin, Versailles: Slottet, parken, livet
Versailles, the ultimate royal palace, is done more than justice by the Swedish historian Jonas Nordin in his well-researched, insightful and readable account of the palace, the park and life at the French court. While most of the literature on Versailles focuses on the age of Louis XIV, Nordin takes the story through the reigns of Louis XV and Louis XVI, making this one of the most complete histories of Versailles.

2. Philip Murphy, Monarchy and the End of Empire: The House of Windsor, the British Government, and the Post-war Commonwealth
While the accession of Queen Elizabeth II of Britain 62 years ago was hailed by some as the dawn of a new Elizabethan age, the main link between Elizabeth I and Elizabeth II proved to be that while the foundations for the British Empire were laid during Elizabeth I, the Empire came to an end during Elizabeth II. Taking up Peter Hennessy’s and the late Ben Pimlott’s challenge to historians to explore the links between monarchy and politics, Professor Murphy shows how the British Empire has morphed into a Commonwealth of Nations and what has been the role of Elizabeth II and the monarchy in this process. This volume will take its place among the handful of the most important books on the reign of Elizabeth II written in her lifetime.

3. Jes Fabricius Møller, Dynastiet Glücksborg: En danmarkshistorie
While there is no dearth of Danish royal books there has until now been no book covering the history of the reign of the Glücksburg dynasty since it came to the Danish throne in 1863. The historian Jes Fabricius Møller puts this right by what may be called a “political history” of the Danish monarchy since 1863, where he charts the monarchy’s interaction with politics, the public and the media. Unlike many royal books this one approaches the royal family in an analytical rather than anecdotal manner. Yet it does so in an engaging way, so that the result is rewarding reading for general readers as well as for fellow historians.

4. Elena Woodacre, The Queens Regnant of Navarre: Succession, Politics, and Partnership, 1274-1512
While the Kingdom of Navarre is largely forgotten today, it commanded a strategically important position in the Pyrenean region and is also of interest as the kingdom where reigning queens first ceased being an anomaly. Between 1274 and 1512, when the major part of the realm was conquered by Castile, there were five queens regnant (a sixth queen ruled the rump kingdom later in the sixteenth century). In her ground-breaking volume, the historian Elena Woodacre investigates the challenges faced by these five female rulers and their way of governing, including the various modes of power-sharing with their husbands. As such this is a book which ought to be of interest to anyone interested in the issue of female rule in early modern Europe.

5. Poul Grinder-Hansen, Frederik 2.: Danmarks renæssancekonge King Frederik II, who reigned over the Dano-Norwegian realm between 1559 and 1577, has to a great extent been overshadowed by his popular, long-reigning son Christian IV and often been portrayed in a less than flattering manner. In this first biography of Frederik II, the historian Poul Grinder-Hansen sums up recent decades’ re-evaluation of Frederik II, showing how his policies were arguably far more successful than those of his son and demonstrating the cultural role played by Denmark-Norway’s first true renaissance monarch.

Queen of Denmark to attend Norway’s bicentenary, King of Sweden declines

This year marks Norway’s 200th anniversary as an independent state, which will obviously be celebrated throughout the year, with the National Day 17 May as the major events. On that day, 200 years will have passed since the Constitution )which had been passed the previous day) was signed and dated at Eidsvoll and Prince Christian Frederik of Denmark elected King of independent Norway.
This will be commemorated at Eidsvoll in the afternoon on 17 May this year, and NRK today reports that the Queen and Prince Consort of Denmark have accepted the invitiation to join the Norwegian royals for the celebrations at Eidsvoll. Queen Margrethe is known to be deeply passionate about history and has several times pointed out Christian Frederik, who later reigned as King Christian VIII of Denmark, as her favourite among her predecessors.
The King and Queen of Sweden have on the other hand declined their invitations, which a spokeswoman for the Swedish royal court explains to Dagens Nyheter is because “the King does not visit other countries to commemorate their holidays or national days”.
Norway had entered into a personal union with the accession of King Olav Håkonsson in 1380 and was declared a Danish province by King Christian III in 1536. On 14 January 1814, as a result of the Napoleonic Wars, King Frederik VI was forced to cede Norway to the King of Sweden. However, his cousin, Prince Christian Frederik, who was his lieutenant in Norway, put himself at the head of a rebellion which declared Norway independent. A constituent assembly met at Eidsvoll in April and wrote the Constitution which was passed on 16 May, the day before Christian Frederik was elected King. However, a brief war with Sweden in the summer ended with an armistice whereby Christian Frederik agreed to renounce the Norwegian crown, while Sweden agreed to accept the Constitution and Norway’s independence. The personal union between Sweden and Norway, which came into force on 4 November 1814, lasted until 1905.

My latest article: Frederik II, renaissance king

King Frederik II of Denmark and Norway has often been overshadowed by Christian IV, his son who has been much loved by posterity. Yet Frederik II, who reigned from 1559 to 1577, was himself one of the most interesting Dano-Norwegian monarchs and indeed the realm’s first renaissance king.
He was a significant patron of the arts and sciences, and his reign saw the birth of true royal splendour at court and the advent of gifted professional artists. Such was the fame of his lasting monument, Kronborg Castle in Elsinore (Helsingør), that Shakespeare chose it as the setting for Hamlet.
Nevertheless, the Norwegian city of Fredrikstad is today one of the few places where Frederik II is honoured, as it was he who founded the town in 1567, and in Fredrikstad Museum’s yearbook, Mindre Alv XV, which goes on sale today, I tell the story of the city’s founder’s life and reign.
Since I completed this article this spring Frederik II has for the first time become the subject of a biography, written by the historian Poul Grinder-Hansen, which is also well worth reading.

On this date: 150 years of the Glücksburgs

Today the House of Glücksburg has been on the Danish throne for 150 years. The former Prince Christian of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg ascended the Danish throne as King Christian IX upon the sudden death of King Frederik VII, which, ironically, happened at Glücksburg Castle on 15 November 1863.
The death of King Frederik VII marked the extinction of the House of Oldenburg, which had ascended the Danish throne with King Christian I in 1448. Two centuries later, in 1660, the Danish crown become hereditary in that dynasty. From the accession of King Frederik I in 1523 to the death of King Frederik VI in 1839 the Oldenburgs boasted an unbroken line of eleven generations where son succeeded father, an unusual long line of direct dynastic descent which could only be rivalled by the Capets of France and the Stuarts of Scotland. Upon the death of Frederik VI in 1839 the crown passed to his half-cousin (at least officially), Christian VIII, whose son, Frederik VII, had no legitimate children.
Prince Christian of Glücksburg belonged to a junior line of the Oldenburgs, descending from one of the 23 children of Duke Hans the Younger, a younger son of King Christian III, but had only a very remote rights of succession to the throne. However, by the semi-Salic law of that time, his wife, née Princess Louise of Hesse-Cassel, was in line to the throne after her mother, a sister of Christian VIII, and elder brother, who both renounced their rights in favour of Louise, who transferred them to her husband, who was the Russian candidate to the Danish throne and won the approval of the other great powers at a conference in London in 1852.
There will be no special celebrations of the 150th anniversary of the royal house, but today has been chosen as the date for the unveiling of a new group portrait of Queen Margrethe II and Prince Consort Henrik with their sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren by Thomas Kluge, who has earlier done portraits of Queen Margrethe, Prince Consort Henrik and Crown Prince Frederik.

My latest article: Three Dutch queens

When Queen Beatrix abdicates on 30 April, the Netherlands will get its first male head of state in 123 years. In the April issue of the British monthly magazine Majesty (Vol. 34, No. 4), which goes on sale in Britain today, I write about the unique historical phenomenon of three successive women in what is usually a male role: Queen Wilhelmina, who reigned from 1890 to 1948, Queen Juliana, who reigned from 1948 till 1980, and Queen Beatrix, whose reign of 33 years brings the unbroken line of female kings to an end.
Also just out is the Danish Historisk Tidsskrift, vol. 112, no. 2, to which I have contributed a review of Gerd Steinwascher’s book Die Oldenburger. Die Geschichte einer europäischen Dynastie, which relates the history of all the branches of that vast dynasty descending from a small German county.

Statue of King Christian Frederik to be erected outside Parliament

Next year Norway will celebrate the bicentenary of its independence and the government yesterday announced (external link) that its jubilee present to Parliament will be a statue of King Christian Frederik, which will be erected in the middle of Eidsvoll Square in front of the Parliament Building.
Christian Frederik, the cousin of King Frederik VI of Denmark and Norway, was sent to Norway as Lieutenant of the Realm during the Napoleonic Wars and led the rebellion when Frederik VI on 14 January 1814 ceded Norway to the King of Sweden. Christian Frederik was persuaded to call a constituent assembly, which met at Eidsvoll in April and which passed the Constitution which is still in force on 16 May. Christian Frederik was himself elected King the following day. However, his reign turned out to be short, as Sweden attacked Norway in July. A ceasefire agreed in Moss in August led to negotiations which ended with Christian Frederik’s abdication and Sweden and Norway agreeing on an arrangement whereby Norway retained its independence and its constitution in a loose personal union with Sweden.
Christian Frederik, who eventually became King of Denmark as Christian VIII, was later chastised for not having fought harder, but eventually more and more people have come to realise that opening negotiations rather than fighting to the last drop of blood was probably what saved Norway’s independence and constitution.
The idea of a statue of King Christian Frederik was brought up already in time of the centenary in 1914, but nothing happened then. Two years ago the then Secretary General of Parliament, Hans Brattestå, stated that the Presidium had rejected the idea of erecting such a monument. However, this was overruled by the government last year, and the Minister of Culture, Hadia Tajik, has now revealed that the statue will be placed in front of the Parliament Building. This is, in my opinion, the best possible solution, and will correspond nicely with the statue of King Carl XIV Johan in front of the Royal Palace.
There will now be a competition among sculptors and it is intended that the statue will be unveiled before the bicentenary on 17 May 2014.

What to see: Elverum Church, Elverum

When I visited the small town Elverum last month to attend the opening of the travelling exhibition which is part of the royal jubilee exhibitions I also took the opportunity to visit Elverum Church, which turned out to have a rather remarkable interior (first photo), something one would not guess by its very simple exterior (second photo).
The cross-shaped church was built in 1735-1738 after a design of a lieutenant in the artillery named Nicolai Gustav Sandberg. It was, remarkably for the time, paid for entirely by the citizens of the small community, and most of the work, which is of a very high standard, was also carried out by local artisans: The woodcarvers and carpenters Nils Hansen Engen and Ole Hansen Rønne and the painter Ole Gundersen.
The church is an exquisite example of Norwegian regénce style, a style which takes its name from the regency in France of Philippe, Duke of Orléans during the minority of Louis XV from 1715 to 1723 and in which elements of what would come to be known as rococo began to influence the baroque style.
The interior is a symbolic synthesis of king and god, to institutions which were closely related during the Dano-Norwegian absolute monarchy. The absolute monarchy, which was introduced in 1660, was indeed one of the most absolute monarchies the world has known, and only god was above the King.
King Christian VI’s monogram is to be found on the altar (third photo), which was inspired by Nicodemus Tessin the Younger’s altar in the Church of Our Saviour in Copenhagen (which was again inspired by the altar in the Church of Domenic e Sisto in Rome). The altarpiece, showing the crucifixion, was done in Copenhagen by an unknown artist. The two sculptures standing in front represent justice and piety.
On each side of the altar are clocks (a memento mori) and on each of them stands a little angel (fourth photo) holding respectively the bible and the law book. Altogether there are seven putti – two on the altar, two on the clocks and three in the ceiling, all holding banners with biblical quotations calling on the faithful to praise god, honour the King and love fraternity.
Another, larger angel supports the baptismal font (fifth photo), carved by Nils Hansen Engen (on a personal note I may add that I was myself baptised in this font, as my parents worked at Elverum at the time of my birth). Originally this stood in an enclosure to the right in the choir, under a crown-shaped canopy surmounted by an orb (sixth photo). Another crown-shaped canopy (seventh photo), topped by the monogram of King Christian VI, is found above the richly carved pulpit (eighth photo).
At each side of the entrance to the choir is an obelisk resting on four golden balls (ninth photo). On the top of the obelisk to the left is again the monogram of King Christian VI, on the one to the right the monogram of his consort, Queen Sophie Magdalene. King Christian VI and Queen Sophie Magdalene had both visited Elverum during their great journey through southern Norway in 1733, making the latter the first queen to visit the town. Between the obelisks, hanging from the ceiling, can be seen a crucifix from the thirteenth or fourteenth century, which dates from the first church built in Elverum. Its most recent feature, on the other hand, is the new organ which was installed in 2006-2007.
Most of the original interior was removed when Elverum Church was transformed into a simple and rather unoriginal late neo-Gothic church in 1878-1879. However, it was not long before one wished to restore it to its former splendour, and luckily the original interior could be reassembled from attics and barns. The restoration was completed in time for the church’s bicentenary in 1938.
Two years later the church came close to being obliterated. It was at Elverum on 9 April 1940, the day Norway was invaded by Germany, that Parliament transferred its powers to the government for the duration of the war, and it was at Elverum that King Haakon the following day met the German minister, Curt von Bräuer, and famously refused the German demands that he should appoint Vidkun Quisling, the leader of National Unity (the Nazi party), Prime Minister. The King’s refusal caused the whole town, which had no military or strategic value, to be flattened by German bombers in an attempt to kill the King and government. The church narrowly escaped being hit in the bombing raid and is thus one of the few pre-1940 buildings left in Elverum today. Today it is one of the most interesting sights to be seen if one ventures into this part of Norway.

Statue of King Christian Frederik for 1814 jubilee

As I have earlier voiced my dissatisfaction with the decision of the Parliament’s Presidium not to erect a statue of King Christian Frederik for the bicentenary of 1814, I am naturally pleased that the Culture Minister, Anniken Huitfeldt, in today’s Aftenposten announces that there will after all be a statue of him erected for the jubilee.
No decision has yet been made about the location of the statue, but Huitfeldt says this will be decided in consultation with the Presidium and that she welcomes suggestions. Personally I would prefer the statue to be placed outside the Parliament Building.
The above portrait of the then Prince Christian Frederik of Denmark was painted in 1812, possibly by C. G. Kratzenstein-Stub, and hangs at Rosenborg Palace in Copenhagen. Two years later, on 17 May 1814, the Constituent Assembly at Eidsvoll elected Christian Frederik, who had played a crucial role in the events of that momentous year, the first King of an independent Norway in centuries. He was however forced to abdicate on 10 October that same year and later reigned as King Christian VIII of Denmark in the years 1839-1848.

On this date: The first coronation in Nidaros Cathedral

Today is the 562nd anniversary of the first coronation to take place in Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim, now considered Norway’s foremost national monument and the obvious coronation church since time immemorial.
But it was in fact only on 20 November 1449 that such a ceremony took place in the great cathedral. Earlier coronations, which are known in Norway from 1163/1164, took place first in Bergen and later in Oslo, when that town succeeded Bergen as capital.
The Kalmar Union, which had been founded in 1397 and which united the three Scandinavian realms under one monarch, fell apart when King Christoffer on 5 or 6 January 1448 died suddenly in Helsingborg on his way to Sweden.
The Danes subsequently elected Count Christian of Oldenburg their new king, while the Swedes chose the nobleman Karl Knutsson of the Bonde family. Norway was no longer strong enough to stand alone and thus had to choose between Christian and Karl.
There were parties in favour of both candidates, but in June 1449 the Norwegian Council of the Realm chose Christian as King of Norway. This marked the transition from hereditary monarchy to electoral monarchy and Christian I thus issued a royal contract, the first such in Norwegian history.
But Karl’s supporters, led by Archbishop Aslak Bolt, did not give up. In June they managed to get the populace at the assembly called Frostating to declare their willingness to elect Karl king on certain conditions. The election took place at Hamar on 25 October and Karl continued north to Trondheim, where his coronation took place on 20 November.
We know little about the actual coronation, except that the Archbishop placed the crown on the King’s head with the assistance of the Bishop of Hamar and that several men were subsequently knighted.
Four days later an open letter to Christian I was issued in the name of the Norwegian people, where he was encouraged not to come to Norway as one had now elected and crowned Karl in the place where “rightful kings should be elected and crowned, which is in Trondheim”.
But this was not quite true, given that no kings had ever before been crowned in Trondheim. However, Nidaros, as Trondheim was called then, was where kings had been installed (or “taken as king”, as the term said) since at least the tenth century and since 1152/1153 it was also the seat of the powerful archbishop. And Nidaros Cathedral was the shrine of King Olav Haraldsson, Norway’s patron saint. Thus there were several reasons to hold a coronation there.
A practical reason was obviously that the Cathedral was the Archbishop’s own church and his crowning the King there was a visual demonstration of his role as kingmaker and underlined the position of the powerful church in relation to the King. One reason why Archbishop Aslak Bolt supported Karl’s candidature in the first place may well have been that he seemed likely to be a weaker monarch than Christian, which the church would benefit from. The royal contract issued by Karl was indeed more generous towards the church than Christian’s, which it otherwise closely resembled.
The coronation of Karl Knutsson, which contravened the Council of the Realm’s decision and could therefore be considered revolutionary, meant that there were now two rival kings of Norway. King Karl went back to Sweden to collect an army, but the following year he failed in his attempt at taking Akershus Castle in Oslo.
Negotiations were held in Halmstad, where the Swedish representatives, much to Karl’s chagrin, agreed that he should renounce his rights to Norway in favour of King Christian. Karl had little choice but to accept the outcome and on 10 June 1450 he ratified the Halmstad agreement.
Later that summer Christian I was crowned in Nidaros Cathedral, obviously in order to cancel out the usurper’s coronation. Christian’s son, King Hans, was also crowned there in 1483, but thereafter no coronations were held in Nidaros Cathedral until 1818, by which time the Constitution of 1814 had decided that kings should be crowned in that church.
Karl Knutsson’s remaining life was turbulent and marked by continued struggles with Christian I over supremacy in the north. He was twice driven from the Swedish throne, but returned in 1467 and reigned until his death in 1470. Much to the irritation of King Christian he also continued to use the title “King of Norway”. The Norwegian lion is also incorporated into his arms on his sarcophagus in the Riddarholm Church in Stockholm (second photo), which was executed by Lukas van der Werdt around 1574.
Unlike other claimants and usurpers Karl Knutsson is still included in the official lists of the kings of Norway. The reason for the difference in treatment seems to be the fact that he was indeed crowned in the national monument that is Nidaros Cathedral.

My latest article(s): Ingrid of Sweden – and a book review

Royalty Digest Quarterly no 2 – 2011 is just out and in it you may found my article on the first 25 years of the life of Queen Ingrid of Denmark, i.e. those years when she was Princess of Sweden. Drawing on a wide range of sources, the article charts her childhood and youth, her upbringing and education, the marriage projects which came to nothing and the marriage which did happen, to Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark in 1935.

Also recently out is the Norwegian historical journal, Historisk tidsskrift (no 2 – 2011), to which I have contributed a review of Thomas Lyngby’s, Søren Mentz’s and Sebastian Olden-Jørgensen’s interesting book on the Dano-Norwegian absolute monarchy, Magt og pragt – Enevælde 1660-1848.

No statue of Christian Frederik for bicentenary

Twelve years ago it was suggested that a statue of King Christian Frederik should be erected in Oslo in time for the bicentenary of Norway’s independence in three years. However, the Secretary General of the Parliament, Hans Brattestå, recently told Aftenposten that Parliament’s Presidium has decided not to go ahead with the idea.
This is in my opinion a serious mistake by the Presidium. Christian Frederik was not only the one who was elected the first King of independent Norway on 17 May 1814; he was also the man who led the rebellion against the Treaty of Kiel, in which King Frederik VI of Denmark ceded Norway to King Carl XIII of Sweden.
The rebellion led to the declaration of Norway’s independence, the passing of a liberal constitution and eventually a personal union with Sweden on quite favourable terms. While King Christian Frederik was long reviled by historians for the manner in which the brief war with Sweden in the summer of 1814 was conducted it is now generally believed that the King took the right decision in seeking negotiations with Sweden rather than fighting to the last man and thus to a great extent probably saved Norway’s independence.
If any individuals should be singled out as the most important men of 1814, it would arguably be King Christian Frederik and Wilhelm Frimann Koren Christie, the Speaker of Parliament in the autumn of 1814. A statue of Christie was erected outside the Parliament Building on the 175th anniversary in 1989.
A statue of King Christian Frederik would be only natural at the time of the bicentenary. It is a shame that the Presidium of the Parliament has not understood the historical significance of the man to whom Parliament itself to a certain degree owes its existence.
(The above portrait of the then Prince Christian Frederik of Denmark was painted in 1812, possibly by C. G. Kratzenstein-Stub, and hangs at Rosenborg Palace in Copenhagen).

At the road’s end: Élie, 5th Duke of Decazes and Glücksbierg (1914-2011)

When Margrethe II succeeded to the throne of Denmark in 1972 it was seriously considered creating her husband Duke of Fredensborg. However, the idea was dropped, duke not being a very Danish title and mostly associated with the Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein, which were lost to Prussia in 1864.
But there is nevertheless one Danish dukedom in existence and yesterday the funeral of the man who had held that title for very nearly seventy years took place at Bonzac in Gironde. Élie, 5th Duke of Decazes and Glücksbierg died in Morges on 17 March, two months short of his 97th birthday.
The Danish title derives from his great-great-grandfather, Élie de Decazes (1780-1860), a favourite of King Louis XVIII of France, who created him a count in 1815. On 9 July that year, when Louis XVIII returned to Paris after Waterloo, Decazes was appointed Prefect of the Police and 2 ½ months later he succeeded the dreaded Fouché as Minister of Police. He later became Minister of the Interior and was in effect the leading figure of the moderate royalist government long before he actually became Prime Minister in November 1819. His premiership was however a brief one and he was forced to step down in February 1820, following the outbreak of revolution in Spain and the assassination of the Duke of Berry, heir presumptive to the French throne.
The circumstances under which he was created a Danish duke are quite peculiar. A commoner by birth, the royal favourite was due to marry Countess Egidia de Beaupoir de St-Atalaire, whose parents were allegedly keen on his being granted a higher title than that which he already had already been given by Louis XVIII. It has also been said that Decazes being about to be appointed Foreign Minister (which he eventually never was) played a role in this matter.
As the bride-to-be was the niece of the Dowager Duchess Anna Caroline of Braunschweig-Bevern, who in her first marriage had been the wife of Friedrich Wilhelm, the last Duke of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg, it was apparently decided to approach King Frederik VI of Denmark with the idea that Decazes might be created Duke of Glücksburg. This was done by way of Duke Wilhelm of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Beck, King Frederik’s brother-in-law, who was in Paris to inspect the Danish troops dispatched to France as part of the peace agreement of 1815.
The Kings of Denmark and Saxony had been the only European monarchs to stick to Napoléon until the bitter end and King Frederik was therefore apparently keen on ingratiating himself with the new French ruler. Thus he agreed to create Decazes a Duke, not of Glücksburg, but of Glücksbierg, a non-existing place. The new Duke was supposed to build himself a manor in Denmark or Schleswig, something which never happened. The family did on the other hand eventually acquire an estate in Gironde.
The most puzzling aspect of this story is to me why Louis XVIII could not himself have created Decazes a duke. In his work Huset Glücksborg i 150 år (1975) the author Bo Bramsen wrote that King Louis did not “dispose over any suitable dukedom”, but this did not prevent him from making his outgoing Prime Minister Duke of Decazes in 1820, so that his favourite ended up with two dukedoms – one Danish and one French.
What complicates matter further is that the extinct dukedom of Glücksburg was eventually revived by Frederik VI in 1825 and given to his brother-in-law Wilhelm of Beck, the same man who had acted as go-between for Louis XVIII and Decazes seven years before. And Wilhelm’s younger son Christian eventually became King of Denmark when the House of Oldenburg became extinct in the male line in 1863, so that the House of Glücksburg now reigns in Denmark. It has supposedly created some consternation for the protocol department when a Duke of Glücksbierg has made known his intention to attend funerals of Danish kings.
The recently deceased 5th Duke, Élie Ludovic Henri-Christian de Glücksbierg et de Decazes, was born in Chantilly on 16 May 1914, the eldest of the five children of Louis, the 4th Duke, and grandson of Isabelle Blanche Singer, heiress to the Singer sewing-machine company.
He succeeded to the dukedom upon the death of his father on 2 June 1941, by which time he had for nearly four years been married to Solange du Temple de Rougemont, who bore him five children: Edith in 1938, who married Count Georges de Montebello, a descendant of Marshal Lannes; Marie Isabelle in 1941, who married Jean, the Count de Sabran-Pontevès; Séverine in 1943, who married Henri-François, the Marquis de Breteuil; Gabrielle in 1945; and Louis in 1946.
Their daughter Séverine died in 2009 and on 2 January this year the old Duke suffered the loss of his wife of 73 years. She was at that time described as “the Dowager Duchess” in the journal of the Danish nobility, which although premature proved prescient as the Duke survived her for only two months. A mass was sung for him in the church of Préverenges on 25 March.
The late Duke was an Officer of the Legion of Honour, a Commander of the Order of Dannebrog and also held the War Cross of 1939-1945 and the Grand Cross of the Sovereign Order of Malta. Supposedly he only visited Denmark twice: firstly for the wedding of the current Queen and Prince Consort in 1967 and secondly for the funeral of King Frederik IX in 1972.
He is succeeded in his dukedoms by his only son, Louis, now the 6th Duke of Glücksbierg and Decazes, who is 64, unmarried and childless. Next in line are the new Duke’s cousins, Jacques-Marie, 66 years, married, but childless, and Jean-Marie, 62, unmarried and childless; their uncle Edouard, who will turn ninety in May; and finally the latter’s only son, Frédéric, who is 52, unmarried and childless. Thus it seems increasingly likely that the only Danish dukedom will become extinct with the death of the current generation.

New books: Royal mistresses and morganatic wives

A book on Danish royal mistresses may sound like a saucy collection of gossip, particularly after the uproar over the recent “biography” of King Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden. But Michael Bregnsbo’s new book, Til venstre hånd – Danske kongers elskerinder, published by Gyldendal in Copenhagen, is no such thing. Instead it is a serious, analytical study of the history of the mistresses and morganatic wives of the monarchs of the house of Oldenburg and of the system of which these women were part.
Bregnsbo, a leading Scandinavian historian of monarchies, points his finger at the discrepancies between the punishment meted out to “ordinary people” who committed adultery or bigamy and how the kings got away with doing the exact same thing. In this book he wants to identify the reasons behind the rise and fall of the “system” of official mistresses and to identify the political influence of it. The result is an interesting book, a good read and a valuable addition to our understanding of the Dano-Norwegian monarchy.
Both mistresses and morganatic wives are included in this study, but it is not a biographical study of these women, although the reader does of course learn quite much about their lives. Bregnsbo shows how they were often pawns in the power game which went on in the monarch’s proximity. The common denominator between Christian II’s mistress Dyveke and Kirsten Munk, who became Christian IV’s morganatic wife after the death of his Queen Anna Cathrine, is that they both had ambitious mothers who got to positions of influence through their daughter’s relation with the monarch.
Christian V, the second of the absolute monarchs, was the first king to take an official mistress (Sophie Amalie Moth) while his wife was still alive. His son, Frederik IV, took this to a new level by contracting two morganatic marriages during the lifetime of his Queen and crowning the second of them Queen almost as soon as his first Queen had died. In both cases the existence of an official mistress or a morganatic wife naturally weakened the position of the legitimate Queen, who might otherwise provide a “safe haven” or perhaps even a rallying-point for those out of favour with the King.
The position of an official mistress could, according to Bregnsbo, be viewed as much the same as that of a male favourite, through whom one might obtain favours from the monarch. This was particularly important after the introduction of absolute monarchy in 1660, which had seen the abolishment of the State Council and left the royal court as the only existing political arena.
Thus the relationship between a king and an official mistress was not simply an emotional and sexual relationship between two individuals, but the mistress was a means which could be used in the struggle for the omnipotent monarch’s attention, interest and favours. The fact that one might more easily get what one wanted by going by way of the mistress rather than through the Queen also contributed to weakening the Queen’s position.
The children born of extramarital affairs or morganatic marriages were also part of the power game. The illegitimate sons and sons-in-law of Christian IV, Frederik III and Christian V were given prominent official positions and came to play important roles on the public stage.
These royal children, who were considered some sort of superior nobility above the “ordinary” aristocracy, could also be used to forge alliances between the monarch and the nobility. Christian IV’s and Kirsten Munk’s children are examples of this, but in this case it eventually backfired on the King when the sons-in-laws had to choose between being loyal to the King or supporting their own and chose their own noble caste.
The influence of mistresses and illegitimate/morganatic children decreased from the days of Christian VI, who is not known to have had any mistress, and Frederik V, who had several, but none who came to hold any significant position of influence. As Bregnsbo sees it this was due partly to evolving political structures but also to attitudes in society in general.
The King was no longer as all-powerful as he had once been. In 1670 Christian V had established a privy council consisting of a handful of advisors. The influence of the Privy Council eventually increased and the way the realm was governed became more formalised. At the same time a state administration evolved, which meant that the court was no longer as dominant as before and that court intrigues were no longer the only way to achieve influence. This also meant that illegitimate/morganatic children were no longer needed to forge alliances with noble families.
At the same time changing attitudes in society meant that the same moral standards were expected on all levels, something which made it less acceptable for the monarch to keep an official mistress. The concept of influential mistresses thus died with Frederik IV in 1730.
It was only his great-great-grandson Frederik VI who some eighty years later again took an official mistress in the person of Bente Rafsted, who bore him several children. Although this was at the time when the Frederik VI took various steps in reaction to the absolute system slowly beginning to unravel, Bregnsbo does not believe that the King took an official mistress in order to project himself in the role as an absolute monarch on par with Christian V or Frederik IV.
He also points out that it was all done in a very different way. Rafsted was given the name and title of “Mrs Colonel Dannemand” rather than Countess or Duchess like her predecessors and Mrs Dannemand did not appear at court at all; instead the King came to her house in town, where he kept her and their children as a second family in addition to Queen Marie Sophie Frederikke and their two daughters. Mrs Dannemand also had no political influence, was not used as a pawn in the power game and her and the King’s children, although helped along in life, did not receive any influential positions in society.
The final case in such a study is Louise Rasmussen, the former ballet dancer who became the morganatic wife of King Frederik VII in 1850, two years after the fall of the absolute system. She came to play a political role through allying herself with the opposition which aimed at influencing the King to adopt a different policy than that favoured by his government. Ennobled as Countess Danner, Louise was kept at a distance by polite society and generally reviled.
As Bregnsbo points out this was partly a result of the monarch’s private life no longer being considered private and that society no longer tolerated what had been generally acceptable in the seventeenth or eighteenth centuries. The fact that the new constitution had introduced freedom of expression also meant that such criticism of the King’s morganatic wife could now be voiced publicly.
But many a public figure has found comfort in the thought that the contemporary view is not necessarily the same as the judgement of posterity and today most historians conclude that Countess Danner was a good influence on King Frederik VII and helped keep him afloat. The historian Harald Jørgensen, who died in 2009 at the age of 102, once discussed Countess Danner with King Frederik IX, who remarked: “May one not admit that the Countess was a good wife for the King?” This in sharp contrast to what his grandfather, the historian A. D. Jørgensen, was told by King Christian IX: “Yes, Mr Jørgensen, I have known the Countess. She was a bitch”.

New books: Absolute monarchy in Denmark-Norway

October saw the 350th anniversary of the establishment of an absolute monarchy in the Kingdoms of Denmark and Norway. This was one of the most absolute systems in Europe; the only limitations put on the King’s powers were that he was not allowed to give away any part of his powers, not allowed to cede any part of his realms and should belong to the Lutheran faith. The Dano-Norwegian absolute monarchy was furthermore unique in Europe in that it was based on a written law, the Lex Regia of 1665.
The anniversary is being marked with an exhibition at Frederiksborg Palace and another at Rosenborg Palace. In addition the three historians Thomas Lyngby, Søren Mentz and Sebastian Olden-Jørgensen have written the book Magt og pragt – Enevælde 1660-1848, published by Gad of Copenhagen. It is not a chronological history of the 188 years of absolute monarchy; rather the three authors deal with various aspects of its history.
Olden-Jørgensen is first out with a chapter on the origins of the absolute monarchy. Until then Denmark was an elective monarchy (whereas Norway was hereditary) and although the eldest son of the deceased king was always elected king, he was obliged to sign a contract with the three estates, which thereby had the chance to restrict the monarch’s power as they saw fit. In the wake of the wars with Sweden in the 1650s King Frederik III allied himself with the priestly estate and the bourgeoisie (third) estate against the nobility, which was subsequently outmanoeuvred. The estates returned the royal contract to the King, who thereafter ruled as an absolute and hereditary monarch.
Olden-Jørgensen takes to task two myths about the absolute monarchy. One is that the absolute kings lived in unsurpassed splendour; the other that it was only during absolutism that the monarchy acquired a religious foundation. He sees the splendour surrounding the monarchs as a “political language” and stresses how the security of the realm was a priority, meaning that fortifications were built and the army and navy strengthened, while no substantial palace was built by the first three absolute monarchs.
In the book’s second chapter Thomas Lyngby looks at the staging of the monarchy through the ceremonies in connection with major royal events such as births, funerals, anointments and the reception of foreign ambassadors, while at the same time showing how the absolute monarchy led to the establishment of a centralised administration which may be seen as the precursor for the modern state. It was simply not possible for the King to make every single decision in his vast realms and eventually it turned out that the bureaucracy worked so well independently of the King that the absolute system was able to survive to monarchs (Frederik V and Christian VII) who were unable to reign.
Sebastian Olden-Jørgensen returns with a chapter on the Struensee affair, which seems somewhat superfluous as the story is very well-known and nothing of significance is added here. The facts that Struensee’s road to power went through Queen Caroline Mathilde and that the reins of power were subsequently held by Dowager Queen Juliane Marie as well as Olden-Jørgensen’s point that the absolute monarchy was “a family firm” rather than a one-man show remind me that I miss an evaluation of the roles played by the queens.
Finally Søren Mentz draws the larger picture in the fourth chapter, looking at absolutism as it was practised in England-Scotland, France, Russia and the realm of the Indian Grand Mogul. To a certain extent it is a drawback that Mentz bases this solely on literature in English and here I also miss a comparison with neighbouring Sweden. In my opinion the earlier chapters would also have benefited from adopting a comparative approach as there are interesting similarities between the origins and consequences of Dano-Norwegian absolutism and the system as practised in other European monarchies.
The perhaps most interesting question – of why the absolute monarchy came to an end in 1848 – might well have been accorded a chapter of its own, but as it is this question is dealt with by all the authors in various parts of the book. Whereas the authors of this book see the origins of absolutism primarily in regional and local conditions, they consider its end as part of a larger, international picture.
Thomas Lyngby sees part of the reason in the human aspect and argues that the task of ruling an absolute monarchy eventually became too much for one individual, thus breaking the psyche of Frederik V and Christian VII. But his suggestion that this was an international development, exemplified through George III of Britain and Gustaf IV Adolf of Sweden, is not entirely convincing given that those signs of mental unbalance which might have been showed by Gustaf IV Adolf mostly appeared following his deposal and that George III, who indeed went mad as a consequence of the illness porphyria, was not an absolute ruler.
It is a commonly held perception that the reason why the Dano-Norwegian absolute monarchy lasted so long as 188 years was that it managed to adapt to emerging ideas and make them their own. The loss of control of political and cultural developments was the reason why absolutism came to an end in France and England-Scotland, Mentz argues, whereas one in Denmark-Norway subscribed to the idea that the King governed after having listened to the opinions of the people. This was obviously no longer the case after the end of the Napoleonic Wars, when Frederik VI joined Alexander I’s reactionary “Holy Alliance”, thus putting himself in opposition to current ideas.
The emerging nationalism also spelt trouble for the Danish monarchy, which following the loss of Norway in 1814 was reduced to Danish and German nationalities. Christian VIII, who succeeded his cousin Frederik VI in 1839, realised that absolutism would have to be abolished, but feared that an abrupt abolishment might lead to civil war between Danes and Germans. He therefore intended to relinquish his absolute powers step by step, but his sudden death in January 1848 put an end to these plans and the absolute monarchy imploded in the early stages of his son Frederik VII’s reign.
This book, which is also rich in well-chosen illustrations, must surely count as one of the most interesting Nordic contributions to the understanding of the nature of monarchies.

Another exhibition on Danish absolutism

I recently mentioned that the Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Palace in Hillerød this autumn and winter will hold an exhibition on the Danish absolute monarchy, commemorating the 350th anniversary of its introduction in 1660. I have now learnt that Rosenborg Palace in Copenhagen will also do an exhibition on absolutism to mark the occasion. Titled “Pomp og pragt – Kongemagt og enevælde” (“Pomp and Splendour – Royal Power and Absolute Monarchy”), it will be shown between 16 October and 27 February.

Upcoming exhibition on Danish absolutism

This spring and summer the Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Palace in Hillerød has marked the 70th birthday of Queen Margrethe with an excellent exhibition on her iconography. This exhibition closed a week ago and the next exhibition at Frederiksborg will be about the absolute monarchy, commemorating its introduction 350 years ago. The exhibition on absolutism will open on 16 October and last until mid-January.