Even at the last he appealed to the country to try
the fortunes of war with him once more. The people were willing, but
the nobles wanted peace, "however God send it," and he had to yield.
The treaty was made at Broemsebro, where a bridge crossed the river
dividing the two kingdoms. In the middle of the river was an island
and the negotiations were carried on in a tent erected there, the
French and the Dutch being the arbitrators. The envoys of Sweden
and Denmark sat on opposite sides of the boundary post where the
line cut through, each on the soil of his own country. So bitterly
did they hate one another that they did not speak but wrote their
messages, though they could have shaken hands where they sat. Even
that was too close quarters, and they ended up by negotiating at
second hand through the foreign ambassadors, all at the same table,
but each looking straight past the other as if he were not there.
Another touch of comedy relieves the gloom of that heavy day. It was
the conquest of the Saernadal, a mountain valley in Norway just over
the Swedish frontier, by Pastor Buschovius who, Bible in hand, at
the head of two hundred ski-men invaded and captured it one winter's
day without a blow. He came over the snow-fields into the valley
that had not seen a preacher in many a long day, had the church
bells rung to summon the people, preached to them, married and
christened them, and gave them communion.
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