Stockholm, Sweden
June 12, 2023
If Helsinki underwhelmed, Stockholm overdelivered.
Years ago I traveled regularly to France. I couldn’t help but be captivated by the art, architecture, and ambiance that were integral…almost incidental…to Gallic life.
My Parisian colleagues agreed with my sentiment. But they reluctantly acknowledged that, like a fish who routinely forgets he’s wet, immersion caused them to take for granted what keeps them alive.
Or, at the very least, of inadequately appreciating what we live for. It’s easy to forget the blessings we have.
As my French friends reminded me whenever I extolled their country, their public spaces were lovely, but their private ones were lacking.
American cities may not abound in the grand plazas and café culture of their continental counterparts. But within and around them are spacious homes and ample acreage most Europeans can only envy.
That may be so. But today, from an American traveler on the Old World scene, the admiration flows the other way.
The city of Stockholm lies in eastern Sweden, across a dozen islands among 30,000 as part of an archipelago that shields the city from the north Baltic. But this vast atoll rarely managed to confine the Swedes.
In the 16th century, the Danes put Stockholm under siege. Upon the city’s surrender, the invaders granted amnesty to the resistors, who acceded to Denmark’s Christian II becoming their king.
The amnesty endured like December daylight in Dalecarlia. Within a week, many leaders who’d been pardoned lost their heads in the central square.
During the preceding dispute, Gustavas Vasa was held hostage in Denmark. He escaped Danish surveillance, then fled to Lübeck to bide his time.
While there he received money and a ship to return to Sweden and resist the Danes. With reinforcements from Lübeck, he repelled the occupiers, moved the capital from Uppsala to Stockholm, and began a dynasty as King Gustavas I.
He was crowned in a country devastated by external war and internal strife. The Danes still surrounded Sweden. They held most of Finland and the island of Gotland.
And Lübeck wanted its loans repaid. But because the only people with money to fund the government also had the strength to resist, taxes could cost more to collect than they were worth when received.
So like the Lutherans, Vasa turned his gaze and grasp toward the wealth of the Church. At the Diet of Vesteres (1527), Gustavas declared for the “Reformation”.
The Diet voted to confiscate Church property, return it to donors, or deliver it to the government. Sacraments were prevented or perverted. As across much of northern Europe, the Swedish state nationalized religion by denouncing the Faith.
During Vasa’s reign, industrialization advanced and commerce flourished. As the economy matured, it nurtured literature and art. For better or bitter, Gustavas Vasa founded modern Sweden.
After a brief flirtation with Catholicism under Vasa’s sons and heirs, Sweden adopted the Augsburg Confession, and affirmed itself as a Lutheran state.
Monasteries were closed, Catholic shrines removed, and anyone not attending Lutheran services “was to be beaten with rods.” Dissenters would be unable to live or hold property in Sweden.
In the 17th century, Sweden enjoyed (or endured) a succession of “strong” kings. Charles X Gustavus was among them, and has the dubious distinction of issuing the first paper currency in Europe.
As the Thirty Years War roiled religions and ravaged Germany, Gustavus Adolphus took control of the Baltic. He paid Denmark to end the Kalmar War and open the Øresund Sound to Swedish sailors. He signed a peace with Mikhail Romanov to keep Russian ships off the sea.
These were tactics to buy time. To repel the Hapsburgs and the papacy, Gustavus wanted Sweden to enter the theological Armageddon that was destroying Europe. Unlike our contemporary hawks, he at least had the decency to go himself. He did…and never came back.
His daughter and heiress was only four years old, so he left the regency to Count Axel Oxenstierna. He governed as capably as anyone on the continent.
Among his accomplishments was drafting a “Form of Government” detailing the contents, powers, and responsibilities of each department in the Swedish state. It is the earliest known written constitution.
At age 18, Queen Christina took control. Like Elizabeth in England (and probably for similar reasons) she never married.
But unlike Elizabeth, she wondered how one could “be a Christian without being a Catholic.” Having no answer, she embraced the Faith.
This act of devotion cost her the Crown. She had to abdicate before she could convert. In that order, she did both, then said goodbye to her mother, sailed for Denmark, and thence to Catholic countries further south.
Her successor, Charles X, used the religious excuse to wage war. He initially tried and failed to subdue Poland. When the Danes and Dutch joined forces with his Catholic enemies, Charles besieged Copenhagen, and forced Denmark to withdraw from Sweden.
His son consolidated power. By the time his grandson took the throne as Charles XII, the Baltic Sea was a Swedish lake. But within a decade, Peter the Great would conspire with the defeated powers to cut Sweden back down to size.
During, despite, and because of all this Machiavellian mischief and imperial intrigue, the city of Stockholm was made magnificent.
Having never been here and with only a day at our disposal, we determined to make the most of our time. At first, we made the least of it.
From the port, we were uncertain the best way into the city. A local who looked knowledgeable (he was wearing a vest and holding a clipboard) told us to follow “the blue line” on the sidewalk. By doing so, we could trek to town or catch a bus.
The line took us to a dead end on the opposite side of the dock. Retracing our steps, we spied a taxi that turned us down.
A few seconds later, the bus we wanted left the stop where we would’ve caught it. I waved him down. To our surprise, the driver stopped, and opened the door.
“Gamla Stan?”, I pleaded, hoping the only Swedish I knew would convince him to take us to the center of town.
“Get in”, he ordered with a sigh and an eye roll, too tired to deal with an ignorant tourist.
We took our seats as I searched for my wallet.
“Don’t we need to pay?”, my wife asked.
“I’m sure we do”, her husband responded. “But he just told me to get in and sit down.”
As we approached central Stockholm, traffic built and the bus filled. Around us, the functional facilities and block buildings around the port yielded to architectural art adorning every street.
Magnificent homes, hotels, churches, and palaces suddenly sprang from each direction on an array of islands. We were mesmerized.
As we approached the Royal Palace, we decided to abandon the bus. We wanted to pay. But the driver pitied us, and let us go.
We appreciated the ride, then wondered how we’d return. After glancing around, we no longer cared. We were in the middle of a marvelous city.
Few are more appealing. We expected a lot and received more. Like Paris, all vistas are captivating, each aspect a work of art.
And the setting is unparalleled. Around an assemblage of islands, water embellishes every view. The confluence of natural beauty and human ingenuity make the capital of Sweden a gleaming jewel.
Not that it’s perfect. Few places are more obsessive than Stockholm about the cash-free fetish. Cash is widely frowned upon, and many places refuse it. This is a harbinger of the digital monitoring and surveillance coming our way, and the Swedes are at the forefront.
But we decided to look back.
Before us was an obelisk. Adjacent to the Royal Palace and in front of the Storkyrkan Church, this monument was commissioned by King Gustav III to thank his subjects for resisting the Russians. It marks the center of the city, and seemed a good place to start.
This year is the jubilee for King Carl XVI Gustaf. Outside the palace, historical photos and stories marked the occasion. We read a few, saw some guards pass, and decided to return to this spot when the palace opened a few hours later.
Under perfect weather and warming temperatures, we walked passed an unending sequence of charming alleys and beautiful buildings in the heart of old Stockholm.
From Gamla Stan, we crossed a bridge to another island. There we saw the Riddarholmskyrkan up close, and City Hall across the water.
I’d like to have seen the host facility for the Nobel Prize ceremony, less for that occasion than for the ornamentation on the interior. But guided tours were required, and we decided not to take the time.
Crossing back to Gamla Stan, we stopped for coffee at Panem café on Stora Nygatan. After our brief respite, we meandered the Old Town maze, finally emerging at Stora Torget.
In front of the Nobel Prize museum, the crowd built as the morning progressed. Beyond the square, the palace was open, and beckoned us in.
Built in Baroque in the 18th century, this is the official workplace and residence of the Swedish monarch (tho’ the current king chooses to live in Drottingholm Palace just outside town).
Aside from a few minor redecorations, the palace remains as originally constructed. Arches, reliefs, pilasters, herms, caryatids, and statues adorn the sandstone exterior, of which each façade is magnificent, and distinct.
The semi-circular outer courtyard is encompassed by two curved wings. The northern one houses the royal guards, who we saw change positions in an extended ceremony when the bells tolled noon.
Before it did, we saw a small sliver of the vast interior. We focused attention on the Royal quarters, guest apartments, and the Hall of Mirrors, obviously and explicitly modeled on La Galerie de Glaces at the Palace of Versailles.
The palace was magnetic, but we needed too move. Hours were passing, and our time grew short. After the changing of the guards took longer than we’d expected, we decided we may as well adopt a more leisurely pace.
We wouldn’t see everything anyway, so we may as well maximize enjoyment of the things we could.
Our sons wanted to see the Vasa Museum, across the water on another island. We briefly checked transit options, but with such wonderful weather in this beautiful place, we decided to walk.
From the palace, we crossed the bridge, passed parliament, and dipped quickly into the Kings Garden. Proceeding along the water, we admired the Renaissance-inspired National Museum, and wound our way to and down the promenade of the Strandvägen.
Completed at the end of the 19th century…with glistening water on one side and grand edifices lining the other…this appears to be among the more prestigious districts in Stockholm…and perhaps the world.
Neoclassical, Renaissance, and Baroque dominate a succession of buildings that impel admiration. For almost a mile, we obeyed their orders.
At the Djurgårdsbron bridge, statues of Nordic gods invited us to another island. Unfortunately, it was another reminder of what we’d miss.
Beyond the bridge, Djurgården hosts numerous museums, galleries, monuments and urban acreage attracting hordes of Swedes hungry for summer.
We settled for the nearest attractions. Our sons visited the Vasa Museum, while my wife and I admired the exterior of the Danish Renaissance Nordic Museum, designed for the Stockholm Exhibition in 1897.
Rising fatigue and a shortage of time kept us from entering. But we gave our sons an hour to explore the only intact 17th century warship that’s ever been salvaged.
Named for the beloved King who modernized Sweden, the Vasa sank on her maiden voyage. Our sons said the exhibit was magnificent, a memory they get to share with themselves.
Across the Djurgårdsbron, we retraced our steps along the Strandvägen. With no desire to leave yet only an hour before we needed to, we rested our legs at Café Albert.
Energized by espresso, we hailed a cab, and returned to the ship. This was a city that warrants another day. Should circumstances permit, some time in the future we’ll return to spend several.
JD