mind was the idea
of a united Swedish nation. At first we shall find this idea laughed at
as visionary, and its promoter driven to the far corners of the land.
But before three years are over, we shall see a Swedish nation already
rising from the dust, until at last it takes a high place in the
firmament of European powers.

The memorable soil on which Gustavus disembarked lay two miles south of
Kalmar; and he hurried to the town without delay. Kalmar was at this
time, next to Stockholm, the strongest town in Sweden. Lying on two or
three small islands, it was guarded from the mainland by several narrow
streams, while on the east it was made secure through a stupendous
castle from attack by sea. This castle was at the time in charge of the
widow of the last commandant, and was strongly garrisoned, as was also
the town below, with mercenaries from abroad. On entering the town
Gustavus was received with kindness by the burghers, and sought in every
way to rouse their drooping spirits. He even approached the German
soldiers with a view to inspire comfort in their souls. But his words of
courage fell on stony ground. It is the nature of mercenaries to fight
like madmen when the prospect of reward is bright, but no sooner does a
cloud gather on the horizon, than they throw down their arms and begin
to clamor for their pay. Such at that moment was the state of things in
Kalmar. Christiern, backed by the leading powers of Europe, and upheld
in his expedition by the authority of Rome, had just arrived in Sweden
with a powerful army, and was now lying at anchor in the harbor of the
capital. The Swedish forces, broken in many places and without a leader,
were gradually scattering to their homes. The cloud that had long been
gathering over the head of Sweden seemed about to burst. The future was
already black, and a listening ear could easily catch the mutterings of
the approaching storm. The Kalmar mercenaries therefore were only
irritated by the importunities of the youthful refugee, and it was only
through the intercession of the burghers that he was saved from violence
and allowed to leave the town.[45]

To revisit the scenes of his boyhood and his father's house was no
longer possible. The brave Sten Sture, from whose palace he had been
stolen two years since, was lying beneath the sod; and Stockholm, held
by the young man's aunt Christina, was in a state of siege. All access
to her or to the capital would have been at the