Stockholm is a city of many churches, most likely because they have many sinners. However, we will investigate only two, as we are but two sinners.
Hedvig Eleonora kyrka
Hedvig Eleonora kyrka is one of Stockholms more popular churches for weddings, christening, and funerals. It is named after Hedwig Eleonora of Holstein-Gottorp. Yes, someone named their daughter “Hedwig”.
We don’t know anything about this place. It just seems interesting, and it is open.
There is some kind of ritual happening, and people sing a lot. In Latin. With Swedish accents.
But danger lurks!
As if ghostly spirits and headless ghouls aren’t enough, deadly Hooded Crows patrol the skies.
There is one of the little demons now. Having seen The Crow, we keep our distance.
Magic Spin Chair
This has nothing to do with Soldiers or Churches.
One day we see two men sitting in these strange things, rolling around yet not falling over. We investigate.
Yes, it’s the famous Magic Spin Chair.
Okay, back to churches.
Riddarholm Church
Riddarholmskyrkan, originally Gråbrödrakyrkan, is a church located on Riddarholmen in Stockholm, consecrated around the year 1300. It was originally built as a Catholic monastery church for Gråbrödraklostret, founded in 1270, belonging to the Franciscan Order, after a donation by King Magnus Ladulås. It thus constitutes Stockholm’s oldest preserved building with the oldest brick walls above ground, as well as Stockholm’s only preserved medieval monastery church. After King Gustav Vasa’s reduction and the Protestant Reformation, it became part of the Church of Sweden.
It is now most famous for being full of dead people, mostly Swedish monarchs and other royalty.
As with many such structures, I look at the tower and think, “When are they going to finish it?” You know, the Eiffel Tower has been unfinished for over a century. Fact.
Riddarholm church is a three-nave hall church, built of red brick, with a narrower, elongated, polygonally finished chancel. The high west tower is crowned by a pierced cast iron spire. Around the church, the burial choirs have been extended. Above all, the Karolinska tomb choir stands out with its Rococo-style roof, but the Renaissance design of the other choirs also breaks away from the church’s original brick Gothic.
Translation: It’s a hodgepodge.
The interior, like many churches, is built to impress. Not so much God, because, well, God, but all the little people down below, struggling to survive, wondering why the government put millions of Krona into this structure rather than providing basic social services like medical and education.
But, I digress.
The interior is dominated by the many tombs, but there are also medieval chalk paintings preserved in the vaults.
Starting with King Gustav II Adolf’s funeral in 1634, Riddarholm Church functioned as a royal funeral church. All Swedish regents from Gustav II Adolf to Gustaf V have had their final resting place here, with the exception of Queen Kristina, i.e., 15 monarchs. They are divided into three different tombs: the Gustavian, the Karolinska and the Bernadotte. In addition to the regents, a large number of regent consorts, princes and princesses rest in the church. Riddarholm Church also includes five non-royal tombs, which were erected during the 17th century by various noble families. In addition to the royalty from the 17th century to the 20th century, there are also two medieval tombs in front of the church’s high altar; according to tradition, the medieval kings Magnus Ladulås and Karl Knutsson (Farmer) are buried here. They thus counted 17 regents buried in the church.
However, a grave opening in 2011 showed that it is not Magnus Ladulås who rests in the grave that was previously thought to be his.
In 1807, Riddarholmen’s parish was dissolved. Since then, the church has functioned as a burial and memorial church, managed by the National Marshal’s Office and the Norwegian Property Agency. It is open as a museum during the summer months as well as for concerts, Seraphim calls and special events. The only regular services held in Riddarholm Church are a Christmas party organized by the Stockholm Scout District since 1937 and a Catholic Mass organized by Sankta Eugenia Catholic Parish on June 7 on the occasion of Queen Josephina’s death anniversary (1876).
Above the altar (where they perform sacrifices?) is an ornate candelabrum with real candles. Spooky!
Okay, on to the dead people.
I’m not a fan of funerals and other death rituals. Even if I were, I think that stacking bodies of people long dead would not have much significance to me.
Couldn’t they find a better artist? I’ll bet all his dead friends are laughing at him.
In fact, the skull and crossbones once was a symbol for death (as compared to now, when it’s a symbol for danger, such as on a bottle of poison). So, it’s good they have this symbol here just in case we forget that this church is loaded with dead folks.
Okay, this one is nicer.
They do not let us in here, but I can stick my camera through the gate and get a nice photograph. Yes, it’s decaying / decayed bodies of people.
In this box are what’s left of Bernardine Eugénie Désirée Clary, Queen of Sweden and Norway from 5 February 1818 to 8 March 1844 as the wife of King Charles XIV John. Charles John was a former French general and founder of the House of Bernadotte. Désirée Clary was the mother of Oscar I, and one-time fiancée of Napoleon Bonaparte. Her name was officially changed in Sweden to Desideria but she did not use that name.
Gustavus Adolphus (Gustav II Adolf in Swedish) is famous for being involved in wars. They gave them the title “Magnus” after he died. Not so magnus now, are you, Gustav.
If you don’t rate a large box, they stuff you into these one-size-fits-all cabinets. But at least you get to display your logo.
These fellows have their logos displayed brightly on the wall, because their corpses are encased in fancy boxes that can’t really show a logo very well.
Gustaf V was the Master of the Word, which probably refers to the Royal Order of the Seraphim.
“Stat semper rectum” is Latin for “He always stands upright.” Ha ha, not now!
I imagine that Mr. Trolle had a hand in designing his logo.
Guy 1: How do you like our new logo?
Guy 2: Why did you make a logo of a dodo?
Guy 1: No, it’s an ostrich.
Guy 2: I’m pretty sure that’s a dodo.
Guy 1: No, it’s an ostrich, the terror of the African plains, a merciless killing machine.
Guy 2: Okay…so why is it smoking a pipe?
Guy 3: Will you two take a moment and listen to yourselves?
We don’t know if Lennart Torstensson‘s corpse is here, but this is the only example of a sculpture in this place of death.
The armor is an early 17th century type. It was originally blue with gilded rivets. Now it’s not.
The cuirass has dents, perhaps from test shootings and perhaps from battle. A placard states that “a powerful shot penetrated the plate and probably killed the owner.” However, citation needed.
It is with this in mind that we leave the world of churches and dead folks and visit the realm of soldiers!
Soldiers
The Armén (formerly known as the Royal Swedish Army) is a defense branch tasked with developing, organizing and training ground combat and air defense units. The army consists of an operational and a basic organization. The army is divided into types of troops: infantry, cavalry, armored troops, artillery, anti-aircraft, engineer troops, signal troops and penetration troops. The army is one of the three defense branches within the Swedish Armed Forces.
However, these lads and lasses don’t seem to be doing much combat.
These fellows seem much more relaxed than regular marching soldiers. Note, too, the swarthy horseman; not all Swedes are pasty. We don’t know why they wear pointy hats.
Not all the fellows are fellows, either.
A guy follows behind the horses to clean up any mess. Can’t have the streets of Stockholm mucked up with manure.
Psych! Nah, they just let cars drive over it, spreading it about the roadway.
Let me point out that our encounters with soldiers is random (to us). We don’t know where they come from, where they are going, or why they are here.
One day, in a courtyard of the Royal Palace, we see a marching band dressed in white. They are not playing music, but just standing there.
And there is a soldier dressed incongruously in camouflage and white standing in the middle of the road, holding a weapon, keeping folks from crowding the center.
Some uncomfortably-dress solders march past. Notice how they hold their rifles.
These soldiers have smaller spiked on their hats, and they hold their rifles differently. Why? We don’t know.
This soldier stands at the ready, searching the shadows for unknown threats, oblivious to the bomb hidden in the multi-colored baby carriage.
Even though this marching band does not play any music (like, why are they even here?), we do randomly encounter other marching bands here in Stockholm.
Wearing the same pointy hats as most of the soldiers, this band commandeers the street and gives us a free performance.
Dancers are expected to memorize hours of choreography. So why do music guys get to read as they go?
I just like the reflection off the horn. That is all.
Behind the marching band are soldiers, strangely NOT wearing pointy hats, and carrying automatic weapons sporting bayonets. You know, my theory is that, if you couldn’t kill him with a few hundred bullets, there’s no way you’re going to have any luck with a knife attached to the front of your gun.
The clever Swedes always stick one or two pretty faces in with the battle-hardened troops. We don’t know why they hold their right hand like that.
We suppose that this is the drill sergeant, because he’s carrying only a sword (drill sergeants are so tough they don’t need a gun), he’s not walking in line like everyone else, and he has a medal around his neck, symbolizing that the King awarded him an honor.
An officer, holding what looks like two extra drumsticks and a switchblade, brings up the rear. Meanwhile, a soldier laughs at a private joke.
Where did they come from? Where are they going? Why are they here now?
But, sometimes, being a soldier is lonely.
I motion to this soldier, asking though gestures if I can take a photograph. Wouldn’t want to cause an international incident or maybe get shot, would I? He nods.
I move closer, but not too close, to get a better photograph. The soldier remains motionless, standing on a box in front of the tiny house.
Don’t they ever tire of not moving?
After watching a soldier for a while, we see some indication of movement. He’s leaving his house!!
He marches a few steps forward, turns to the left, and walks away.
He marches away, and I’m thinking, “Dude, if you would have waited about 10 seconds, you could have found a better way to pass the time…it has a yellow sweater and tight jeans…Dude!”
Just when I think we’ll never see him again, he turns around and marches back to his tiny house.
With more discipline than I possess, he marches back home, looking neither left nor right.
The soldier, exhausted from his morning workout, returns home to again stand his lonely vigil.
Let us give thanks to these noble warriors, horse riders, and music makers and the protect and entertain the kingdom.
Skål
And this brings us to the end of our five-part, sometimes light-hearted, series on Stockholm.
Swede dreams!