Finding Atlantis: A True Story of Genius, Madness, and an Extraordinary Quest for a Lost World

by David King

  CHAPTER 4: A CARTESIAN WITCH HUNT

  Charlie Chaplin’s words were taken from My Autobiography (1964), 320. The debate surrounding the introduction of Cartesian thought was one of the most passionate in Swedish history (“starkaste strid” in Annerstedt’s words, UUH II, 91). “Suspect philosophy” is taken from the letter of protest written by a committee of bishops and theologians to De la Gardie, 19 July 1665.

  The Cartesian struggles in Sweden are discussed in Rolf Lindborg’s Descartes i Uppsala: Striderna om “nya filosofien” 1663–1689 (1965). Lindborg gives another account in his essay “De cartesianska striderna,” 17 Uppsatser i svensk idé- och lärdomshistoria (1980). Other valuable treatments are found in Annerstedt, UUH II 91–101; Annerstedt, Bref I, xxxvi–xlii; Lindroth, Stormaktstiden, 447–58; and Lindroth’s on the later controversies, 458–65. Richard Watson discusses the European controversies, too, in Cogito, ergo sum (2002), 221ff. Descartes’ words “vain and useless” come from his Discourse on the Method of Rightly Conducting the Reason and Seeking Truth in the Sciences, translated by John Veitch (1974), 40, and “sweep them wholly away,” 48.

  Uppsala University, like many universities in the seventeenth century, was in service of the Church. See Eriksson (1994), 10, and Lindroth, Stormaktstiden, 16, 79. Rudbeck’s defense in the Cartesian dispute is taken from his letter to Magnus de la Gardie, 7 September 1668, Annerstedt, Bref I, 48–49.

  The story of the disgruntled professor of law Håkan Fegraeus comes from Annerstedt’s UUH II, 107–8. The student rampage of destruction is related in II, 103, and the storming of the royal palace in Annerstedt, Bref I, xxviii–xxix. Rudbeck described the violence at the palace in a letter to De la Gardie at the end of February 1667 (Annerstedt, Bref I, 45–46). The sentencing of the students comes from UUH II, 104.

  As another sign of the deteriorating economy, salaries were reduced in 1668 to about 590 a year. Uppsala University’s financial problems were based in part on the sharp decline in price for grain, plummeting nearly 50 percent in 1666. This caused the university serious concern because those sales represented a large portion of its income. The economic situation was well covered by Annerstedt’s UUH I, 330–41; II, 63; and especially II, 109–22, which chronicles the transition from a budgetary surplus to a deficit. Annerstedt also overviews the problems in Bref I, xliii–liv. In addition to Rudbeck’s letters during the period, particularly one in 1670 (Annerstedt, Bref II, 78–90), additional information on the Community House is found in Annerstedt, UUH II, 126–34, and Bref II, lx–lxviii.

  Arrhenius-Örnhielm’s background is discussed in Lindroth’s Stormaktstiden, 327–28. Rudbeck’s lengthy defense, 1 July 1670, was printed by Annerstedt in Bref I, 52–73. His resignation, however, was refused, and a later direct appeal to the king was also turned down, 20 October 1670 (Annerstedt, Bref II, 75–76). Years later, Rudbeck was still trying to get out of his position as curator.

  CHAPTER 5: FOLLOW THE FISH!

  The words of the biochemist Albert Szent-Györgyi come from Royston M. Roberts’s discussion of “how accidents become discoveries” in Serendipity: Accidental Discoveries in Science (1989), 245. Rudbeck was working with the “greatest enthusiasm” in his letter to Count de la Gardie, 23 March 1674, Annerstedt, Bref II, 95. “Beautiful things” was one way Rudbeck often referred to his discoveries. “One thousand curses” comes from Rudbeck’s defense, 1 July 1670, Annerstedt, Bref I, 57. The comparison to Achilles appears in Annerstedt, Bref II, lv.

  Rudbeck’s method of investigation is elaborated in Atl. I, 81–92. He describes the soil used in the method—the matjord or svartmylla—in Atl. I, 81, and its origins on page 82. The discussion is based on my translation of Rudbeck’s own words: “All thenna Swartmylla samlar sig Årligen meer och meer, men hafwer på åtskilliga orter någon åtskilnad til sin fetma och färg,” Atl. I, 83.

  Information about Rudbeck’s trial with the container in his garden, his efforts to seek out difficult places, the interview with Swensson, and the tips to the reader is found in Atl. I, 82–85. The image of the staff and the humus comes from the Atlas volume (table 31, fig. 102). Eriksson discusses the significance of this method (1994), 15–16, 110–11. It is also treated by Eriksson (1984); Swederus, “Olof Rudbeck den äldre: Huvudsakligen betraktad i sin verksamhet som naturforskare. En skildring,” in Nordisk Tidskrift (1878); and Sune Lindqvist’s article “Olof Rudbeck d.ä. som fältarkeolog,” in Rudbecksstudier (1930), 249–58. Translation of Rudbeck’s words on pollution and reference to this early awareness come from Eriksson (1994), 110. Bruce Trigger provides a brief discussion of Rudbeck in his History of Archaeological Thought (1989), 49; and Ole Klindt-Jensen in A History of Scandinavian Archaeology, translated by G. Russell Poole (1975), 30–31.

  The effects of the burial-mound investigations on his contemporaries have never been fully examined. There are many cases, though, of people who were reading closely, and taking note. The superintendent general of Pomerania, C. T. Rango, praised the “incomparable” Atlantica, and tried Rudbeck’s methods many times at Greifswald, reporting that it led to accurate results, 8 May 1690, and printed by Nelson (1950), 101. Years before, the Kiel polyhistor D. G. Morhof also admired the “ingenious reasonings” Rudbeck drew by investigating the surface of the earth, 23 June 1681, Nelson (1950), 28. There were of course critiques as well, including a rather lengthy one in the journal Monatliche Unterredungen einiger Guten Freunde von Allerhand Büchern . . . appearing in the months February through July 1690.

  Homer’s words about the Achaean heroes at Troy were taken from the Iliad II, lines 472–73. Rudbeck’s discussion of the golden age comes from Atl. I, 39. As a later addition to this theory, explaining why the Swedes were so silent about their great deeds, Rudbeck pointed to an old piece of parchment that referred to a great burning of old books and manuscripts, ordered in 1001 by King Olof Skotking (Atl. III, 12).

  The references to the Flood are from Genesis 7:11–12, and Atl. I, 81 and 91. The chronology was discussed in many places in the work, for instance I, 546ff., and the calculations based on population, Atl. I, 34–38. Eriksson treats Rudbeck’s work as an early statistician (1994), 113–17. For more on seventeenth-century views of the Flood, see D. C. Allen’s The Legend of Noah: Renaissance Rationalism in Art, Science, and Letters (1949), though there is unfortunately nothing here on Rudbeck’s theory.

  Rudbeck’s discussion on the importance of rivers in the development of civilization is found in Atl. I, 40–41. Newton’s Chronology of the Ancient Kingdoms Amended and his “Short Chronicle from the First Memory of Things in Europe, to the Conquest of Persia by Alexander the Great” were published posthumously (1728) and discussed by Frank Manuel, Isaac Newton, Historian (1963). Despite many eccentricities in the natural philosopher’s published and unpublished work, Manuel argues (page 9) that “the new scientific method pervaded Newton’s most recondite antiquarian investigations.”

  No one could rival the north in fish, Atl. I, 56. “Sweden is the inexhaustible cradle of civilization” comes from Professor Musaeus’s Latin oration on 26 April 1688 at Kiel University; the text is reprinted in Nelson (1950), 100. The description of Sweden as rich in forests, flocks, and fish also comes from this speech, as did the magnet comparison.

  “Clearer than the sun” and more certain than Greek, Latin, and other literary sources references are found in Atl. I, 91. Rudbeck explains his certainty about why Sweden must have been one of the first lands inhabited after the Flood, Atl. I, 41, as well as 34–41. “The Book of Nature,” a very traditional seventeenth-century metaphor, is found in many places of Rudbeck’s work, calling it for instance “the greatest, the wisest and the most certain book,” Atl. II, 49.

  Verelius’s letter to Count de la Gardie, 20 December 1673, is cited in Atl. I, 3–4, and another copy at Uppsala University, Palmsk. samlingen (344). Loccenius’s letter was written two days later, and can be found in the same two places.

  CHAPTER 6: GAZING AT THE FACE OF THOR

>   The opening words are from Lucius Apuleius, The Golden Ass (1951), translated by Robert Graves, 267. My discussion of Count de la Gardie is based on many sources, particularly Fåhraeus’s Magnus Gabriel de la Gardie (1936), Magnusson’s Magnus Gabriel (1993), Åslund’s De la Gardie och vältaligheten (1992), and Rystad’s “Magnus Gabriel de la Gardie,” in Michael Roberts, ed., Sweden’s Age of Greatness 1632–1718 (1973), 203–36.

  The description of De la Gardie’s physical appearance and restless building projects is from Lorenzo Magalotti’s eyewitness account, Sverige under år 1674 (1996), 101. See also Magalotti’s discussion, 24–31 and 89ff. The number of rooms and the staff in Läckö castle is in Magnusson (1993), 63 and 73–74. De la Gardie is discussed as a patron in Lindahl, Magnus Gabriel de la Gardie, hans gods och hans folk (1968); and Hahr, “Magnus Gabriel de la Gardie som konstmecenat,” in Svensk Tidskrift (1925). These works cover some of the many churches, hospitals, universities, and other institutions the count supported, as well as his fine collection of art including Titian, Tintoretto, Cranach, and Holbein the Younger. The Swedish National Museum’s Magnus Gabriel de la Gardie (1980) also provides an overview of the Baroque atmosphere.

  Queen Christina’s words were translated by Bulstrode Whitelocke, Journal of the Swedish Embassy (1855), 344–45. When I was in Stockholm, I was able to see the actual letter Christina wrote to the count, 5 December 1653, RA, De la Gardiska samlingen. Skrivelser till Magnus Gabriel de la Gardie E 1371. There is another one dated 11 December 1653, RA, De la Gardiska samlingen. Skrivelser till Magnus Gabriel de la Gardie E 1371.

  Cutting through the “tall, terrifyingly impenetrable overgrowth” is taken from Atl. I, 6, and Rudbeck’s arguments about the lack of historical writing in a golden age are from Atl. I, 39–40. As he noted, historians must have something to write about, and conflict is one of history’s earliest subjects. Nordström (1930) discusses the uses of the Hyperborean legend in Sweden, and other works, cited in the notes for chapter 2, outline the background to Swedish Gothicism. Rudbeck’s discussion of the Hyperboreans is found mainly in Atl. I, 228–65. Karl Marx’s words are from The Manifesto of the Communist Party, in The Revolutions of 1848 Political Writings I, edited by David Fernbach (1981), 67.

  “Wondrous way” comes from Pindar’s Pythian X, 30, which presents a vivid image of the lyres, flutes, and laurels in a Hyperborean celebration. Herodotus’s words on the Hyperboreans are in his Histories IV, 13, and also IV, 33ff. Pliny’s description of this “happy race” enjoying longevity and bliss in their “woods and groves” (as well as a little skepticism “if we can believe it”) is found in Natural History IV, 89–91. Pliny discusses them in many other places as well, noting for instance that the “majority of authorities” situated them in Europe (VI, 34). Diodorus Siculus treats the “legendary accounts of the Hyperboreans” in his Library of History II, 47.

  Rudbeck’s mapmaking exercise to demonstrate Ptolemy’s errors is recounted in Atl. I, 251–52. The skeletons unearthed are noted in Atl. I, 400, and the legends of the giants were all over the Norse manuscripts. The story of Thor’s journey comes from Gylf. 46. The measuring of students occurs in Atl. I, 400. Drawing upon his experiences as a physician, Rudbeck confirms that the Swedes rarely succumbed to the plague, typhus, leprosy, or the worst contagious diseases, which everywhere seemed to claim many victims (Atl. I, 58). Swedish longevity and health are also discussed in Atl. I, 212–13, 263–65; diet, exercise, and climate were other factors that contributed to the phenomenal health of the Hyperboreans (I, 58). Foreigners unaccustomed to this quality were, according to Rudbeck, quite impressed (Atl. I, 263). Evidence sent by his brother Nicholas Rudbeckius about the ages of people in Swedish villages is cited in Atl. I, 263. Some notes about various ages in the kingdom also survive at the National Library, Olof Rudbeck den äldre collectanea F.e.16.

  Discussion of the difficulties of understanding the word Hyperborean comes from Atl. I, 229–33. Rudbeck’s Bore or Bori is most often spelled today Buri, though the spelling of his son’s name, Bor, is often still used. Buri is described as “beautiful in appearance, big and powerful” in Snorri Sturluson’s Gylf. 6. Rudbeck’s discussion of the rune outside Ekholm, the tavern song, and his comment on “strange animals,” Atl. I, 231–33. Odin as “the greatest and most glorious that we know,” Gylf. 7, with Bor’s sons making the world, 8–9, and Voluspá 4. Bore place-names being found in Sweden, Atl. I, 231–32, with an additional comment on Bor’s sons, 246. Bor, the Bor-barn, and the golden age are elaborated on 432–42.

  Rudbeck’s meeting with a “very wise peasant in Röklunda named Anders” is related in Atl. I, 68, and his lesson in the use of runic staffs, Atl. II, 650. True to form, Rudbeck inserts a formula for any curious reader who wants to make predictions on his own, Atl. II, 649–62 (and another one to be clipped out, 552). The survival of the wisdom in the countryside is discussed in Atl. I, 212.

  Rudbeck was very much interested in folk customs and peasant culture, venturing into villages away from seacoasts, royal courts, markets, universities, and other cosmopolitan entrepôts where customs and languages often mix, Atl. III, 171–72. Oral traditions, folk customs, and popular culture help Rudbeck, again and again, interpret classical culture. No nation, Rudbeck believed, could boast of such a profound understanding of the course of the heavenly bodies as could Swedish peasants with runic staffs.

  In a similar way, Rudbeck also sought out information from the Saami of the north. Rudbeck gets much of his knowledge about the indigenous peoples from Schefferus’s Lapponia and Olaus Magnus’s Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus. He also investigated matters for himself, including consulting Swedish officials who had personal acquaintance with the Saami. Rudbeck’s discourse on beards appears in Atl. III, 516ff., and the peasant mentioned, III, 522.

  CHAPTER 7: THE QUEST FOR THE GOLDEN FLEECE

  John Adams’s words come from Malcolm Forbes’s What Happened to Their Kids? (1990), 13. Lorenzo Magalotti’s descriptions are in his own account, Sverige under År 1674 (1986): the purpose of his visit is on page 1; his opinions of Uppsala are on 65–68, and Rudbeck 67–68.

  Information about the College of Antiquities comes from a number of sources, especially Schück’s KVHAA; Schück’s Johan Hadorph (1933), 64–81; and Lindroth’s Stormaktstiden, 321–27. Runes, burial mounds, old Icelandic sagas, coins, seals, and many other antiquarian matters were part of their domain. Stiernhielm’s only known meeting was the first, 25 January 1668, though the first real meeting was arguably 28 May that year (Schück, Hadorph, 74–75). The college’s rooms are described in Magalotti, Sverige, 66, though they were not as appealing to members of the college. Virtually from the beginning, the institution was hoping to move into its own building. Rudbeck had been selected by De la Gardie to be its architect.

  The college was called Sweden’s first scientific academy, Schück, KVHAA II, 30, and it had the most active writers in Sweden, that is, outside of Olof Rudbeck and the legal scholar Stiernhöök, Schück, KVHAA III, 44. Hadorph was seen as the youngest, though already a dominant member, Schück, KVHAA I, 277.

  Hadorph was indeed a significant figure in late-seventeenth-century Swedish cultural and intellectual life. With an assistant and two draftsmen, Hadorph rode throughout the country investigating its antiquities. Coins, medals, and gold rings were found, as well as a great collection of church silver buried in the Linköping area. His collections would eventually form the basis for Stockholm’s Historical Museum (Schück, Hadorph, 194). Like Rudbeck, too, Hadorph wrote down old songs, including some gathered from the mother of one of his colleagues. Hadorph’s many achievements are summarized in Schück, Hadorph, 193–265. His family is discussed in Schück, Hadorph, 4–7, and his educational training is noted on 7–17, as well as in Lindroth, Stormaktstiden, 321–27.

  The law protecting Swedish antiquities is discussed by Schück in Hadorph, 60–64, and more elaborately in many places in his KVHAA. Lindroth calls the law simply the first of any count
ry, Stormaktstiden, 249. Rudbeck was probably not then captivated by antiquities, Atterbom suggests (1850), 450. Arrhenius’s words on the “cloud castle of hypotheses” come from KB, Örnhielmiana (O.20), and Annerstedt discusses the college well in many places, for instance, UUH I, 271–76, and II, 66. Magalotti’s judgment of Atlantica is found in Sverige, 68.

  My discussion of Rudbeck’s theory of Jason and the Argonauts is based primarily on his account in Atl. I, 418–27. Helping me to understand this episode were some influential classical sources describing the quest: Apollonius of Rhodes’s Argonautica, Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and Pindar’s Pythian IV, as well as shorter accounts in Apollodorus’s Library I, 16–28; Diodorus Siculus’s Library of History IV, 40–56; Herodotus’s Histories IV, 179; and references in Euripides’ Medea. That the Argonauts were the only ones known to have passed the dangerous crashing rocks is mentioned in the Odyssey XII, lines 85–90. Summary reviews of the Argonauts’ adventure were also consulted, including Edith Hamilton’s Mythology, 117–30; Robert Graves’s The Greek Myths II, 215–56; W. H. D. Rouse’s Gods, Heroes and Men of Ancient Greece, 89–108; and Lempière’s Classical Dictionary, 70–80, 334–35. See also Mauricio Obregón’s Beyond the Edge of the Sea (2002), as well as his earlier From Argonauts to Astronauts: An Unconventional History of Discovery (1977).

  Rudbeck’s quest was “the second Argonautick expedition” referred to by Thomas Haak, 29 March 1682, printed in Auctarium Testimoniorum de Cl Rudbeckii Atlantica 1685, Nelson (1950), 36.

  “Terror seized him …” appears in Pindar’s Pythian IV, 95, and the centaur galloping down to wave them off is in Apollonius of Rhodes’s Argonautica I, 551–55, with baby Achilles in the arms of Chiron’s wife, Argonautica I, 556–58. The Argo as the “first ship ever built” is in Ovid, Metamorphoses VI, 721; and its an-tiquity in classical mythology is mentioned in Homer, Odyssey XII, lines 85–90. The following lines are in Pindar’s Pythian IV: “locks of glorious hair fell rippling down,” 83; fleece of “gleaming gold,” 231; and “flower of sailing men,” 189. Accounts of the crew often varied. The oldest sources are silent on Atalanta’s participation, and many reviewers, including Lemprière, do not bother to mention her in the context of the Argonauts. But classical mythology seldom has only one version of a story, and it was difficult for later chroniclers to resist including this brave maiden hunter in the expedition. So, while Pindar and Ovid make no mention, she appears in later accounts from Apollodorus (I.ix.16) to Diodorus Siculus (IV.41.2).