At the end of the 11th century, Sweden witnessed a dramatic conflict between Christianity and paganism, symbolized by Blot-Sweyn—a ruler who seized the throne after promising a return to blood sacrifices at the temple in Uppsala. His short, three-year reign ended as violently as it began, when flames engulfed his residence with him inside.
Revolt Against the Christian King
King Inge, ruler of Sweden in the second half of the 11th century, found himself in a hopeless situation. Unlike his father Stenkil, who managed to navigate between the demands of the new faith and the expectations of pagan subjects, Inge decided to stand firmly by Christianity. He refused to perform blót—the ritual sacrifices carried out at the famous temple in Uppsala, which for generations was the religious heart of Scandinavia.
The people’s reaction was merciless. The assembled Swedes at the thing (assembly) gave the king an ultimatum: either he would return to the ways of their ancestors or lose his throne.
When Inge refused to renounce Christianity, the crowd pelted him with stones and forced him to flee. The humiliated ruler sought shelter in Västergötland, the western part of his former kingdom, where Christianity had stronger roots.
Interestingly, later king lists from the Västergötland law codes do not mention Sweyn at all, suggesting his rule never reached this part of the country. Sweden was more of a confederation of regions at the time than a unified state, and different areas could recognize different rulers.
A Coronation in Blood
Sweyn was the brother-in-law of the deposed king—the brother of his wife, Mær. Sources describe him as someone favored by Inge and the most influential person in the kingdom. When the opportunity arose, Sweyn quickly used the religious revolt for his own ends. At an assembly, he offered to take responsibility for the sacrifices in exchange for the crown.
Sweyn’s inauguration provides one of the most valuable accounts of the ancient Germanic horse sacrifice ritual. According to the Hervarar Saga, a horse was led to the assembly, then killed and butchered, with pieces distributed for consumption. The sacred tree was anointed with the animal’s blood. At that moment, as the saga describes, all the Swedes abandoned Christianity and resumed sacrifices to the gods.
The Martyrdom of Bishop Eskil
Sweyn’s reign is remembered not only as a time of pagan revival but also as a period of Christian persecution. A later legend about Saint Eskil depicts Sweyn in the darkest terms, giving him the nickname ‘Sweyn the Bloody.’ According to this story, the king forced subjects to drink the blood of bulls offered to the gods and to eat sacrificial meat.
In Strängnäs, people gathered around the king, slaughtering oxen and sheep in honor of the old deities. The English bishop Eskil attempted to convert the pagans, but they would not listen. The cleric prayed, and God sent thunder, hail, snow, and rain, which destroyed the sacrificial altar and the animals intended for sacrifice. Not a single drop fell on the bishop himself.
The pagans, however, were unimpressed by the miracle. Enraged, they attacked Eskil. A seer named Spåbodde struck him on the head with a stone, another man smashed his skull with an axe. The chiefs dragged the dying martyr before the king, accusing him of using magic to control the weather. Sweyn sentenced the bishop to be stoned to death.
It’s worth being cautious about this tale. The legend of Saint Eskil comes only from the late 13th century, and the martyr is not mentioned by Adam of Bremen, who was writing around 1075. Some historians date Eskil’s death as early as 1016, several generations before the reign of Blot-Sweyn.
A Burning Hall and the End of an Era
Sweyn’s rule lasted only three years. The exiled Inge did not intend to accept his loss of the throne. He gathered a small band of loyal men and set out on a desperate journey through Småland and Östergötland to the heart of Sweden. He traveled day and night, counting on the element of surprise.
The plan succeeded. Inge reached Sweyn’s seat early in the morning, before the defenders could organize. According to the Hervarar Saga, the attackers set fire to the building where the usurper was staying. Among those who died inside was a magnate named Thjof, a former member of Sweyn’s retinue. The king himself managed to get out, but was immediately killed.
Another version of these events, preserved in the Saga of the Earls of Orkney, offers an even more dramatic ending: Sweyn remained inside his burning home and died in the flames.
The same saga emphasizes that Inge was a fervent Christian, who despised all magical and pagan practices and, after regaining power, continued to eradicate evil pagan customs.
Did Paganism Have Another Defender?
Inge’s return to the throne did not mean an automatic end to paganism in Sweden. Icelandic historian Snorri Sturluson, writing in the 13th century, notes that stubborn pagans from Uppland may not have immediately accepted the Christian king. In his work Heimskringla, he mentions another pagan king named Erik Årsäll, who supposedly continued the sacrifices after Blot-Sweyn’s death.
Some sources present this Erik as a son of Sweyn, but most modern historians do not consider him a historical figure. It is possible that tradition created him as a symbolic figure representing the last resistance of the old faith before the inevitable triumph of Christianity.
The story of Blot-Sweyn remains partly shrouded in uncertainty. He ruled for only three years, and his reign was not recognized in all regions of Sweden. Nevertheless, his figure perfectly illustrates the turbulent time of religious transformation in Scandinavia, as new faith clashed relentlessly with old traditions in a struggle for souls and power.
Autor
Margot Cleverly
Margot's journey into women's history began with a box of forgotten letters in a Cambridge archive – suffragettes whose voices had been silenced for over a century. Since then, she's been on a mission to uncover the stories history overlooked.
What she writes about: Queens who ruled from the shadows. Scientists whose male colleagues took credit. Revolutionaries who risked everything. But also ordinary women – those who survived wars, raised families through upheaval, and shaped their communities in ways no one bothered to record.
Margot turns historical figures into real people. She writes with warmth and detail, making centuries-old stories feel surprisingly relevant. Rigorous research meets accessible storytelling – no dusty academic jargon, just compelling narratives backed by solid facts.
When she's not writing, you'll find her in regional archives, collecting oral histories, or visiting sites connected to the women she writes about.