as can be seen again and again in their correspondence. Rudbeck’s appreciation is obvious, for instance, in an early letter after the count was won over to the search, 17 February 1674, Annerstedt, Bref II, 92. De la Gardie would prove to be Rudbeck’s “greatest supporter,” the words coming from Rudbeck, in a letter to the count, 3 April 1677, Annerstedt, Bref II, 156–57, and G. Klemming (1863), Supplement E. See also Rudbeck’s letter, 13 June 1681, RA, Kanslers embetets handlingar for Uppsala universitet arkiv E. 11:7.
The count’s financial gift and promise to seek support from the king are noted in Rudbeck’s letter of 12 November 1677, in Klemming (1863), A. The relationship between Rudbeck and Charles XI is overviewed in Eriksson (2002), 184–85; Annerstedt’s Bref III, clxxxii–clxxxiii; and Atterbom (1851), 98–99. The account of the university’s preparations for the coronation is based upon Annerstedt’s UUH II, 153–54. “The house of nobility” is a translation of the Swedish riddarhus. David Klocker Ehrenstrahl’s painting of the coronation is housed today in the Drottningholm collection. Rudbeck’s part in the festivities, particularly singing over the trumpets and drums, is in Carl-Allen Moberg’s “Olof Rudbeck d.a. och musiken,” in Rudbecksstudier (1930), 179.
Unfortunately, Rudbeck’s composition for the coronation has apparently not survived, lost like his other works for weddings, funerals, and other state occasions, including Charles XII’s coronation. Only one known composition exists, a funeral dirge (1654) for the chancellor Axel Oxenstierna at Stockholm’s Storkyrka. It was recorded for the Royal Academy of Music’s Musica Sueciae series, Dygd och Ara: Adeln och Musiken i Stormaktstidens Sverige (1992). The text of Rudbeck’s music took the form of a dialogue, with the lyrics largely inspired by the Book of Revelation, and performed by two sopranos or tenors. Some of Rudbeck’s other compositions can only be partly imagined—for instance, Rudbeck’s use of Psalms 25 for the music he wrote for De la Gardie’s funeral. Carl-Allen Moberg’s article (1930) is valuable for understanding Rudbeck’s work as a musician and composer.
Animosity between Sweden and Denmark is well known, and Strindberg discusses danskhat, or hatred of the Danes (1937), 46–48, 164–168, 194ff. Kurt Johannesson recounts its flourishing in the sixteenth century (1991), 106ff. Charles X Gustav’s invasion of Denmark is recounted in Alf Alberg, “Taget over Balt,” in Karolinska Tiden 1654–1718 Den Svenska Historien V (1967), 30–33. The number of troops crossing the frozen Great and Little Belts in early 1658 comes from T. K. Derry, A History of Scandinavia (1979), 133. The charges against De la Gardie, this time, are highly unlikely. That De la Gardie would confide such treacherous comments to known enemies strains belief.
Jerker Rosen discusses the Battle of Fehrbellin in Karolinska Tiden 1654–1718 (1967), 94–95. John Robinson called this battle “a disaster so little foreseen, or provided for, that it made a more easy way for all the miseries that ensued upon it,” in his Account of Sweden, 1688 (1998), 35, though historians tend to see its influence as more psychological than strategic. The description of the Kronan’s sinking is in Rystad (2001). The flagship is described by many sources, including Magalotti, Sverige, 22–23, and Lindquist, Historien om Sverige: Storhet och fall (1995), 135–47. The Kronan probably had 126 bronze guns on board, though most estimates put the figure between 124 and 128. Besides the cannon, a talented team of underwater archaeologists have uncovered no fewer than twenty thousand objects on the site, many now on display at the Kalmar lans museum. Anders Franzen’s discovery is remarkable for understanding the Swedish Age of Greatness, though often overshadowed by his earlier and more famous discovery of the Vasa ship.
Embarrassments in the Danish war unleashed a “storm of ill will” against the chancellor (Strindberg [1937], 228–33, 240). The French would not have liked to hear that some of their subsidies to the Swedish army were being funneled by De la Gardie to the College of Antiquities.
CHAPTER 10: ALL OARS TO ATLANTIS
Rudbeck’s treatment of the rivers and forests is found in Atl. I, 121–22. On the history of the search for Atlantis, see the notes to chapter 7. The resilience of classical texts to withstand the force of new facts is discussed by Anthony Grafton in New Worlds, Ancient Texts: The Power of Tradition and the Shock of Discovery (1992). Grafton shows how reluctant many Renaissance humanists and explorers were to shift out of the older classical perspective, and how easily new, apparently contradictory facts were incorporated. Ptolemy’s maps underestimating the voyage are from J. H. Parry, ed., The European Reconnaissance (1968), 152.
Plato’s words on the size of Atlantis are found in Timaeus 24E, and those on its wealth in Critias 114. The description of the Aztec gold comes from Miguel Leon-Portilla, ed., The Broken Spears: The Aztec Account of the Conquest of Mexico (1962), 51. The wealth is also discussed by Parry (1968), 171–231, and in Prescott’s Histories: The Rise and Decline of the Spanish Empire, edited by Irwin R. Blacker (1963), 94–103; Cortes, 153ff.; and the capital, 184– 258. The figures on the gold and silver are cited by J. H. Elliot, The Old World and the New 1492– 1650 (1992), 60–61. Montaigne’s words come from his Essays (1580, reprinted 1958), translated by J. M. Cohen, “On Cannibals,” 106. Words on Atlantis as not “fable, but veritable history” are found in Donnelly’s Atlantis: The Antediluvian World (1881), 1–4, 217ff., and 283–86, with the pyramids, 335–42, and the obelisks, 367. The reference to museums in the future comes from Donnelly’s Atlantis, 480, and the Jules Verne passage is from his Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea, translated by Mendor T. Brunetti (1969), 265. The Mardi Gras celebration of 1883 and the correspondence with W. E. Gladstone are in Martin Ridge, Ignatius Donnelly: The Portrait of a Politician (1962), 202.
Rudbeck’s discussion of the lost civilization comes earliest in Atl. I, 92–190. The size of Atlantis as “larger than Libya and Asia” appears in Plato’s Timaeus 24E, and Critias 108E–109A, and Rudbeck, Atl. I, 93–94. The reference to the opinion of the common boatman is in Atl. I, 94, and the comparison with the war between Sweden and Denmark, Atl. I, 12. Rudbeck’s discussion of 
is found in Atl. I, 95–96.
Atlas, king of Atlantis, is described in Plato’s Critias 114A. Rudbeck’s comments on this ruler and the place-names around Sweden with the Atlas root are in Atl. I, 135–44. Atle is discussed in Norse poems, particularly the Skaldskaparmal in the Edda, and the 
and Atla-mal in the Poetic Edda. The “high-builded towers” of Atle’s halls is in 14, with the “far-famed temples” and “roaring flames” in 45. The destruction is elaborated in Atla-mal, 79ff. Theories still differ on this Atle figure, often spelled Atli, though many view him as a memory of Attila, king of the Huns, well known among the Goths, Fragment of a Sigurth Lay, in Lee M. Hollander’s translation of The Poetic Edda (2001), 244, n. 6. The explanation of the name of King Atlas and its change from the Atlantean language to Greek is found in Plato’s Critias 113A–113B, with Rudbeck’s discussion in Atl. I, 123–45. The Atlas Mountains, also found in Sweden, are discussed in Atl. I, 215–18, 226–28, and other places.
Rudbeck’s theory about the Pillars of Hercules comes from Atl. I, 145–50. Strabo’s helpful passage is in Geography 3.5.5–6, and the rumor of the pillars lying in the north is in Tacitus, Germania 34; the Roman historian was citing the opinion of Drusus Germanicus, Nero Drusus, brother of Emperor Tiberius. Rudbeck also tells of a curious dinner party at De la Gardie’s Venngarn Castle. When the French ambassador to Stockholm, Monsieur le Marquis de Feuquiere, inquired about the progress of Rudbeck’s work on Atlantica, Count de la Gardie told of the latest finding that the Pillars of Hercules were not in the Mediterranean, but in Oresund. At that point another Frenchman at the dinner, Monsieur le Picquiettiere, spoke up, noting that he, too, had reached this conclusion on their northern location (Atl. I, 149–50).
Rudbeck traced the Roman form of the ancient hero’s name (Hercules) back to the Swedish her and kulle or kolle, meaning either the head or leader of an army, and the Greek Heracles to the Swedish Herkulle (also
