21. On The Eve of Bloody War
“…And so it begins. The fate of all the world held in this one man. I see that he is adept at the black arts, and has personal ambitions that may bring his loyalty to us into question. However, as long as we have shared goals then I believe that all will go as planned. A war between Denmark and Sweden may seem an odd place to begin, but such hostilities are easily manipulated and can easily prove to be catalysts for much greater things to come. He is the future, he is the man who will bring the world to order. I hope he does not lose sight of the fact that his destiny is not his own but all mankinds‘…”
Excerpt from “The Danish Revival” by E. J. Cobban, Oxford University Press 2005
Prime Minister (or Chancellor, as the position came to be known) Jonsson’s first acts in his new office were to overhaul the antiquated structures of government that “kept us with one foot squarely in the 18th century”. The Foreign Service Department was scrapped and was replaced with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, to be headed by Jonsson himself. Other changes included the creation of the Ministry of Peace, which was headed by Ludvik Gudmunsson, as well as several key appointments to the King’s cabinet.
Most notably the young playboy industrialist Lars Sandlund entered the political arena being appointed as Minister of Trade and Industry, and Tomas Marken was appointed Minister of Finance (his old Ministry being combined with Industry to create Sandlund‘s new role). Knud Petersen was appointed Minister of the Colonies. His role was basically to oversee and regulate the slave trade, as well as to negotiate with the DEAC when needed.
A more clandestine reform of Jonsson’s was the creation of the Lov og Ordre Kontor (LOK), a secret police service that operated deep in the offices of Christiansborg. Only top officials in the Danish government were aware of its existence and purpose, which was to suppress pro-liberal activism with delicate care and utmost secrecy. Of course, it did not take long before people noticed that their friends and neighbours were disappearing in the night, and so the activities of the LOK only served to increase liberal resentment of the government. Most of the anger was directed at the King, who controlled and directed the affairs of the government as an autocratic ruler.
While all this was going on the Danish Army was making secret preparations for a naval invasion of Sweden, although it was definitely the most poorly kept secret that one could imagine. People, spurred on by the media, talked openly of coming war, and a series of patriotic speeches by Chancellor Jonsson made sure that the Danish people were fully behind the impending military action. In these speeches, which often whipped the crowd into a frenzy of patriotic fervour, Jonsson would highlight the acts of aggression perpetrated against the Danish state by the Swedes, most notably the assassination of Prime Minister Otto Joachim.
On August 18th Denmark sent to Stockholm an extensive list of their grievances with the Swedish state and made several key demands, of which refusal to comply would result in a state of war between the two countries. The demands were:
1. An official apology for each and every act of Swedish aggression by the King Karl XIV himself.
2. Reparations in monetary form of £50,000 for the suffering endured by the Danish state as a result of Swedish actions.
3. A further £1,000 for the families of the Danish merchants executed for smuggling.
4. The return of the Crown of Norway (but not the lands) as a symbolic gesture of goodwill between the two countries.
They were given two weeks to respond. On August 30th the response came, and it was a flat refusal to honour any of the demands. Three days later, on September 2nd 1840, a state of war was declared between the two countries, with Russia joining on Denmark’s side. The world watched on nervously as the first war in Scandinavia since Denmark’s humiliation during the Napoleonic Wars began. With massed ranks of Russian and Danish troops preparing to enter her soil the Kingdom of Sweden could only pray to God for a miracle.
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Outside Copenhagen, A Dingy Prison Cell
2nd September 1840
It was always the same. Nothing ever changed, here. The Jens of four years ago was unrecognisable, with his fine blonde hair now a dark, dirty mess, his face tired and wrinkled, betraying his meagre thirty four years of age. Despite his misery, despite the four months of irregular torture that he had endured back in late 1839, life was getting better. He had managed to befriend a guard, a young man known only as Madsen. Madsen had taken pity on the stricken prisoner and had secretly been giving him extra food. Jens had been able to whisper to him about Mathias, how evil and twisted he was. The young man had obviously been brainwashed or something, but was more receptive than any of the other guards. As a result of the extra food and water Jens could now stand unaided, and could feel the strength building within him. Soon…
Jens looked out of his cell and saw that Madsen and Nielsen were the two guards on duty. When he thought of all the pain he had endured at the hands of Nielsen he shuddered, and looking at the guards he saw…something. Had Madsen just winked at him? He could not be sure. This young guard was his only hope, maybe he pinned too much hope on him? Maybe he was just imagining things out of sheer hope? Jens mentally wrestled with himself until he was convinced that his imagination was running riot, and slunk back down against the wall of his cell. Just as he did he heard something.
“Hey, what the-” There was a smash, and in a panic Jens rushed to the door of his cell. Oh lord, it is true! There, lying in a pool of blood was Nielsen, his brains dashed across the cold stony floor. There was a mad glint in Madsen’s eyes, and with a quick dash he ran to the cell and unlocked it.
“You’re actually freeing me?” Jens spluttered, truly amazed despite his hopes. Madsen looked at the floor and sighed.
“Yes I am.” He laughed. “Being one of Mathias Jonsson’s henchmen is just not the life for me, especially after he killed…” His eyes went dark and cloudy, a bitter hatred seething deep inside of him. Then he looked up, and grinned. “Come on, we’d better go. I should think that I will be as much as a fugitive as you soon,” he said, looking at the corpse of his fellow guard. The two of them rushed out of the cell, and as Jens passed the body of Nielsen he spat and kicked at the corpse, memories of his torture resurfacing inside of him. They ran up the stairs and out of the castle, with no plan as to what to do next. I’m free at last, thought Jens hysterically, struggling to hold back tears. The dungeon that he had made his home for the last four years was now empty, all silent apart from the drip-drip-dripping.
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The Office of Mathias Jonsson
Early Hours of 3rd September 1840
The war had begun, and Mathias had been up all night conducting a war council. Now, finally, he was alone, and with a sigh he poured himself some vodka that he had been presented with by the Russian Tsar himself. Just as he was about to take a mouthful there was a knock at curt knock at the door, and Mathias growled with irritation.
“What!” he barked, suffering from acute tiredness. The door opened and he was presented with the sight of his pretty, full figured secretary called Thora Rasmussen. Mathias smiled. Thora had bright blue eyes, mousy brown hair and a smile that made Mathias weak at the knees. She batted her eyelashes and spoke timidly,
“There’s a man here to see you Mr. Jonsson.”
“Tell him to bugger off!” Thora bit her lip nervously.
“He says it is urgent!” Mathias sighed, and shrugged.
“All right, let him in.”
After a couple of seconds a man walked in, and Mathias blinked in surprise. The scraggly hair, the messy beard, it could only be-
“Poul, you have returned!” The man grinned, and sat down in the chair opposite to Mathias. Mathias looked at him and laughed.
“You could at least have had a wash before you came barging in here.” Poul grinned, and with a flourish he revealed a package that he had been keeping under his coat.
“No time for that, Mr. Jonsson, I had to come immediately.” He spoke with a slight, untraceable accent, and for the first time Mathias noticed the excitement in his eyes.
“You…?” Poul grinned and untameable grin and nodded furiously.
“I found it, Mr. Jonsson, I found it!” He handed the package over, and Mathias very carefully caressed it with his hands, as though what was inside was a precious as a Ming vase.
“Are you sure this is it?” Poul nodded.
“Without a doubt.”
The package was made of simple brown paper, and was the size of an average book. With slow, careful precision he removed the packaging and took a peek. He looked up at Poul, and very carefully slid it into his desk.
“You haven’t failed me, Poul. I will pay you in the morning.” Poul took that as his cue to exit, and immediately Mathias’ hand went to his desk. Finally! He thought, it is time-
His thoughts were interrupted once again by Thora, who popped her pretty head around the door.
“Um, Mr. Jonsson, there is another man to see you.”
“Yes, yes, tell him to come in.”
The man who entered was heavy set, with short white hair and a slick black suit. Mathias recognised him as Jorgen Hansen, the man in charge of the LOK.
The conversation lasted for less than a minute. Thora looked up in alarm as a loud howl emanated from the room, and as Hansen took his leave she saw that Mathias was thumping the table, screaming and shouting. This lasted for about five minutes until eventually he just broke down into sobs, mumbling something about “just a few more days, just a few more days I would have needed…”
After a few more minutes he composed himself, and sat, deep in contemplation. I must find another, he thought, another. Then, as something occurred to him he smiled. Yes, him. Why didn’t I think of it before?
With new schemes and plots filling his head he drifted to sleep, and dreamed dreams of power.