ty.

The details of the blood-bath in Stockholm had reached the ears of the
Pope and he sent a legate to inquire into the atrocities committed under
the implied sanction of the Church. As they were not to be concealed,
Christian attempted to excuse them, and, driven to extremity, accused one
of his chief favorites, Didrik Slaghoek, as the originator of the
massacre.

Slaghoek had just been named archbishop of Lund, but was brought to
Copenhagen, examined under torture, condemned to death, and carried to
the gallows and thence to a funeral pile on which he was burned alive,
Christian leaving the town that he might not witness the cruel death of
his late favorite.

This cowardly sacrifice of his devoted friend and servant, instead of
winning the favor of the people, redoubled their abhorrence of the
bloodthirsty tyrant. Shortly afterwards the Luebeckers invaded the
kingdom, and Christian, not trusting his people, called in foreign
soldiers to repel them. Needing money for their pay, he called a diet to
meet on December 10, 1522. Few attended it, and in anger he called a new
meeting for the following January.

Before the date arrived rumors were set afloat that he intended to
butcher the Danish nobles as he had done those of Sweden, that chains
were being provided to secure them, and that he would have disguised
executioners among his guards; also that new and heavier taxes were to be
laid on the peasants.

These rumors, widely circulated, incensed and frightened the nobility and
a meeting was held by the nobles of Jutland in which they determined to
renounce their allegiance to Christian and offer the crown to his uncle,
Frederick, duke of Holstein.

Magnus Munk, one of these lords, was chosen to deliver their decision to
Christian and sought him for this purpose. But it was far from safe to
offer King Christian such a document openly, and Munk pretended to be
making a friendly visit, conversing and drinking with the king until a
late hour of the night. On rising to retire, he thrust into Christian's
glove, which had been left on the table, the letter of renouncement of
the Jutland nobles.

Instead of going to bed, Munk hastened to the vessel in which he had come
and sailed to Holstein, where he made to Frederick the offer of the
crown. As may be imagined, there was little hesitation in accepting it.

The next morning a page of the palace found the king's glove on the table
and took it to him. On reading the let