Source:
The Sibyl of the North: The Tale of Christina, Queen of Sweden, pages 30 to 46, by Faith Compton Mackenzie, 1931
The account:
Before peace with Denmark was established, Christina came of age on her eighteenth birthday, December 8, 1644. This was a magnificent occasion. She sat on a silver throne, surrounded by her counsellors of state, and took the oath as King of Sweden, promising among other things to maintain the national religion.
Now she took command; the Regency had done its work. It was exciting to be King of a great military nation, and it would be amusing to snub Oxenstierna occasionally. Though the Chancellor had been her guide from childhood, she had long ago decided upon her policy when she came of age. Oxenstierna, though he was constantly in treaty with Richelieu and recognized the importance of France as an ally, was deeply distrustful of that country. Christina, on the other hand, was fascinated by the idea of that great nation of civilized and cultured human beings. A fine military history was all very well, but as far as intellectual things went, Sweden was in outer darkness. Brilliant statesmen and soldiers — plenty of them — but with the exception of dear old Matthaie, there were few people of her own nation about her who really cared a fig for philosophy or the fine arts.
Pierre Chanut, the French Resident, had done much to draw her to his own country. Not only was he the best type of French gentleman, "an ambassador of the first class", and a man of high honour and ability, but he was one of the most learned scholars of his time, and naturally Christina rejoiced in his company. He had travelled, knew many languages, alive and dead, and was, best of all, an intimate friend of the philosopher Descartes. Christina had studied Platonism from an early age, and, as we shall see, was avid in her search for new philosophies. If there was anything new, she must know it. Tout savoir!
There was, however, one subject on which Christina was content to be, if not ignorant, at any rate ill-informed, and that was home politics. She was aware that there was a certain amount of disaffection and unrest among her people, but her advisers had not over-emphasized its importance nor the urgency of reform in these matters. The aristocrats ruled, and the cry of the people, worn out by continual war, heavy taxation, and the tyranny of the nobles, was as far as possible kept from her ears. As she was zealous in her attendance at the Senate, she could not have failed to hear this subject discussed. In the Senate no question could be debated that was not first introduced by the Sovereign, and she did attempt, sometimes successfully, to redress a few of the glaring wrongs from which her humble subjects were suffering. But home politics bored her. Already her mind was stretching out to other lands than Sweden, though for the moment it went no further than the desire to attract to her Court the distinguished figures of literature and art. It was obvious that this could not be done on any scale until the war was over; therefore the war must be ended as soon as possible. Christina concentrated upon this object with all her energy. Negotiations for peace had begun in 1641, but the real congress did not meet until 1645, and to it went the Chancellor's son, John Oxenstierna, and Adler Salvius as Sweden's plenipotentiaries, and this was the cause of Christina's first real difference with Axel Oxenstierna.
As usual the military party did not really want peace, and even the Chancellor was not enthusiastic about it. He advised his son to hold up negotiations as long as possible, and to be adamant over Sweden's terms. Christina, however, took Adler Salvius into her confidence and exhorted him to do all in his power to hasten the end. The two plenipotentiaries were already on the worst of terms, Salvius the man of modest birth, risen to high estate by sheer merit, being treated with haughty contempt by John Oxenstierna, whose only claim to his position was that he belonged to one of the first families. The clash of contending interests and personalities at Osnabrück, where the Protestant peace-makers were meeting, could not but resound in Stockholm, and resulted in high words between the Queen and her Minister in full Senate.
The Peace of Westphalia, which wound up the Thirty Years' War at last, was finally concluded in October, 1648, but peace between Christina and her Chancellor was further off than ever. In fact, so strained were their relations that the Chancellor wished to retire from Sweden; a suggestion gladly welcomed by the Queen, but leading to such a storm of protest in the Senate that she was obliged to ask him to stay, and patched up a half-hearted truce with him. The fame of Oxenstierna throughout Europe was a thorn in Christina's side. Whatever good things were done in Sweden were put to his credit, though Christina was conscious of being responsible for many wise measures, and she prided herself specially upon her influence over the proceedings of the Peace conference. Her delight knew no bounds when the courier arrived announcing that the pact was signed. A gold chain worth six hundred ducats was presented to him, public rejoicings were ordered, cannon fired, Te Deums sung, and at last the sums which had been poured out on war all these years could be diverted with a clear conscience into other channels. But not much was left. The Swedish coffers had been depleted for many years before Christina came to the throne; the Regency had been wildly extravagant, ministers and officials filling their own pockets on a grand scale; Crown lands were bought up by the nobles, and the peasants suffered accordingly by the tyranny of their new landlords. This scale of Crown lands had begun in Gustavus Adolphus's time, and was one of the chief causes of the people's discontent. The nobles were omnipotent; they alone benefited by the war, they alone were untaxed and absolutely free to oppress and grind the peasants at their will. Christina faced this problem half-heartedly. It was indeed a difficult one to solve.
Another exceedingly tiresome problem had been occupying Christina in the meanwhile, and that was the problem of avoiding marriage. For three years Prince Charles Gustavus, her cousin and son of the Prince Palatine, had been pressing her to marry him. As children they had played at being engaged, and even in 1644 she must have imagined she was in love with him, for she wrote:
"My love is so strong that it can only be overcome by death, and if, which God forbid, you should die before me, my heart shall be dead for anyone else, but its memory and affection shall follow you to eternity. Perhaps you will be advised to ask for my hand now and openly, but I implore you by all that is sacred to have patience for yet a year, till you have had more experience in war, and I have got the crown on my head. [The coronation was yet to come.] Remember the old saying, 'He waits not too long who waits for something good.'"
This tone was encouraging to the ardent suitor, who forthwith went to the war and was nearly blown to bits getting the necessary experience; but when he came back full of honours to claim her hand he found it cold and unresponsive. She did not exactly say 'No', but she implied that he would still have to wait for that 'something good'.
To tell the truth, Christina's affections had not been too firmly fixed upon Charles Gustavus. There was one person whom she loved to 'caress', and that was Count Magnus de la Gardie. He was the son of the High Marshal and of beautiful Ebba Brahe, the only other woman besides his Queen whom Gustavus Adolphus had ever loved. De la Gardie had French blood, and compared to the excellent but perhaps somewhat rough-and-ready Swedish courtiers that surrounded her, he shone as brightly as a diamond in a heap of pebbles. On this handsome young courtier the Golden King's daughter showered such conspicuous public favours that the world naturally supposed he was her lover. As history does not tell what private favours he enjoyed, it is useless to speculate on their relations. At any rate, had he been her lover, she could not have honoured him before the world more extravagantly than she did. Rank and office were bestowed, vast estates bringing in incredible sums, and most marked of all her public favours was the embassy on which she sent him to the French Court. By this time he was married to Christina's cousin, one of the Prince Palatine's daughters, sister of Charles Gustavus.
Outside any partiality the Queen may have had for his person, there is no doubt that de la Gardie was the ideal figure for the mission to France. No expense was so much as considered in the equipment of this embassy. It was done in magnificent style, and even the French were impressed. Chanut sent a private warning that the more this young ambassador was caressed, the better pleased Queen Christina would be.
France took the hint, and fêted the brilliant young man and his suite with a succession of balls, plays and amusements of all kinds. The object of his embassy, the strengthening of friendship between the two nations, was not forgotten in the whirl of entertainments. Madame de Motteville says, "He spoke of his Queen in terms so passionate and respectful that it was easy to suspect in him a feeling more tender than that which he owed her as a subject." His visit was a success from every point of view. There was some trouble in Sweden about an enormous sum which he had borrowed in Paris. The war was not yet over when this embassy sailed for France, and there was horror in the Senate when the news arrived that de la Gardie had borrowed what might have been enough money to help the Swedish army to victory. In vain Christina took the blame upon herself. She had authorized this extravagance, she said. The Chancellor, who had discouraged de la Gardie's embassy from the first and was only too pleased to find some just cause of complaint, was obstinately resolved in his disapproval. So uncomfortable did he make it for the Queen that she was driven to beg her friend Salvius to lend her privately the same sum, which should be devoted to the needs of the army.
De la Gardie returned after a year in Paris, and was amply rewarded for the success of his embassy. He seems to have kept his position as first favourite at Court. The only other person who held Christina's heart in those days was Ebba Sparre, her maid-of-honour. This lovely, delicate creature was truly beloved of the Queen. She was one of those ladies (already noted) distinguished for their wit and beauty whom Christina deigned to admire almost beyond the bounds of what is compatible with admiration. ...
Someone said of Christina that she had been taught everything "except to love". It is true that her childhood was perhaps peculiarly barren of the sweeter sensibilities. She had no mother's knee at which she could prattle and learn the mysteries of nursery lore. But even if she had had a worthy mother, would she have spent more time than she could possibly help at the maternal knee? Would she not have fiercely questioned and scarcely tolerated the nursery legends, as she questioned and disdained the religious teachings of Matthaie? Her spirit sprang like a lupin-seed in the hot sun, clear and direct — with a clean rush through the air to its own individual self-found bourne. There it grew, detached as the spirit of genius must be — lonely, egocentric, wistful sometimes — deprived by its very nature of ordinary emotional commerce.
.......
Charles Gustavus was becoming impatient. Other suitors were attracted to the blue-eyed, flaxen-haired little Queen whose gifts were creating such a stir in Europe, and whose throne would be such a pleasant one to share. Two Danish Princes, the young Elector of Brandenburg, Philip of Spain, the King of Hungary, everyone, in fact, of any importance, and a few that were of none. There was no time to be lost.
At last Christina consented to an interview with Charles Gustavus at which Matthaie and Magnus de la Gardie were to be witnesses. The presence of the latter was a delicate cruelty which must have added zest to the conversation. The rather heavy, boorish young man was confronted by his brother-in-law, the debonair favourite, obviously in full power, and no doubt enjoying the situation excessively.
"I must tell you", said Christina, "that I cannot promise to marry you at all. I can only promise that I will not marry anyone else."
This was not much good to Charles Gustavus. It brought him no nearer to the throne. But then she dropped her startling bomb, composed of how many elements, half-formed desires, dreams, and probably a lightning flash of inspiration. To avoid matrimony, to evade the horror of providing with her own body an heir to the throne! She knew it was this necessity that was urging the States to demand her marriage, not any regard for her happiness. And nearly everyone had his own axe to grind. Even Oxenstierna had dared to contemplate the idea of his own son Eric as consort. There was much talk about it, but there is no evidence that Christina did more than laugh at the notion.
"I will promise you something else", she said to Charles. "Supposing I decide never to marry, I will make you my successor to the throne. You shall be my heir."
However much this announcement may have startled and thrilled Charles Gustavus, he protested that unless he could look forward to marriage with her he had no further interest in life, and would leave Sweden never to return. Christina was not in the least taken in by this high, romantic tone, and when he reproached her with her childish promises, she assured him that he should be very grateful for ever having been considered, even in her childish days, worthy of so great an honour.
Here, no doubt with a glance at the sleek favourite, Charles made a disparaging remark about other aspirants for her hand and favours, citing especially Eric Oxenstierna and persistent rumours. Christina indignantly declared at this that if Charles listened to such ridiculous gossip, he was not worthy of her great project for him. Charles played the forlorn lover to the end of this interview.
"At least I may write?"
"To your father and Matthaie. Yes."
With this he had to be content, and he left her and her two advisers, giving no outward sign, at any rate, of elation at the prospect of some day occupying the throne of Sweden not merely as consort but as King. Besides, probably he felt that this fantastic promise was unlikely to materialize.
Christina went out on to the terrace of the Palace and watched him ride away — watched him till he was out of sight.
Was there a tinge of regret for the love of her childhood as she shaded her brilliant eyes with that finely shaped boy's hand of hers? Or was it perhaps that Magnus was standing behind her, and it was good for him to be tantalized a little bit, after that rather too triumphant interview? Probably something of both.
There are many theories about Christina's aversion from marriage. She herself is responsible for several. As a child she said, when told of the Catholic idea of celibacy as the highest state of moral perfection: "Ah, how fine that is. That shall be my religion."
In her Memoirs comes the following remarkable passage:
"My ardent and impetuous temperament has given me an inclination for love no less than ambition; into what misfortune might not so terrible an inclination have led me, if Thy grace had not made use even of my defects to correct me of it! My ambition, my pride, incapable of submitting to anyone, my disdain, despising everyone, marvellously preserved me; and by Thy grace, Thou hast added thereto so fine a delicacy that Thou hast preserved me from an inclination so perilous for Thy glory and my happiness; however near the precipice I have been, Thy hand has held me back. Thou knowest, whatever evil tongues may say, that I am innocent of all the wrong-doing with which they have tried to blacken my life. I vow that if I had not been born a girl, the inclinations of my temperament would probably have led me into terrible licence. But Thou who has made me love glory and honour more than any pleasure all my life, Thou hast preserved me from the ills into which the opportunities, the freedom of my condition, and the ardour of my temperament might have precipitated me. I should no doubt have married, had I not been conscious of the strength Thou hast given me to forswear the pleasures of love. I knew the world too well to be ignorant that a girl who wishes to enjoy life must have a husband; above all, a girl of my rank, who marries but to gain a subject, or rather a slave to her will and caprice. ... Had I been conscious of any weakness, I should have known how, like so many others, to marry for pleasure's sake, and enjoy my good fortune; and I should not have had that invincible aversion from marriage (of which I have given so many striking indications) had it been necessary to me. But Thou hast given me a heart which could devote itself only to Thee; Thou hast formed it of such an admirable and vast capacity only to be filled by Thee. ... This heart was Thine from the moment it first beat in my breast. ..."
This, it must be remembered, was written in middle age. She expressed herself in simpler language, but to much the same effect, at the time.
"I would rather die than be married. I could never allow anyone to treat me as a peasant does his field."
When pressed by her councillors to choose a husband, she said:
"I am as likely to give birth to a Nero as an Alexander. I would rather designate a good Prince and successor capable of holding the reins of government than marry at this moment."
That idea was not at all acceptable to her government. If Christina was not going to marry and produce an heir, they saw no reason why she should dictate her successor. The House of Vasa would die out, and the succession might go into — almost any quarter. Christina was well aware that if she did not produce an heir in one way or another, the Estates might elect whom they chose as her successor — an Oxenstierna, a Brahe — and she had enough feeling for the House of Vasa to want to perpetuate as far as possible that great family in Swedish history. Charles Gustavus was at least the nephew of Gustavus Adolphus, and she was determined that he should succeed her, whatever the Estates might say. They said a great deal, on February 23, 1649, when she presided at a Senate to discuss the succession. The question of her marriage was also involved, and the severest of her critics was her old tutor Matthaie, who said:
"Your Majesty is obliged to marry, by the Decrees of the Realm."
"No one on earth can persuade me to that unless I settle it myself. I don't deny that I may do it one day. To marry for the good of the Realm, that's a great motive! But when I find a means as good to secure the Realm, what more can be asked of me? The Act of Succession does not prevent me from marrying. What I promised to Charles Gustavus I shall religiously observe. But you shall not know now what it was that I promised him. I might marry him after he has been declared Successor to the Throne, a declaration which could be made now with advantage, but no one in heaven or earth can constrain me to it."
"For Your Majesty there is no risk. But for us there is great danger if we disregard the Decrees of the Realm."
"No one in the world can make me change the plan I have made. If I marry I shall marry no one but Charles Gustavus. But I will not tell you now if I shall marry; you will know at my coronation."
When reminded that all the world would talk when it heard of her decision, she said, "When they've talked enough they'll soon find something else to amuse them", and indeed she herself was to provide them with a series of sensations for the rest of her life.
Though the whole Senate was against her, she won her point in the end, and the Act of Succession was signed, though the Chancellor remarked as he signed it that, if he had the choice, he would prefer to enter his grave rather than lend himself to such a document. Charles Gustavus ceased to urge marriage, but retired tactfully to his estates on the island of Öland, and refrained from mixing in any State affairs. He was prepared, no doubt, to wait many years for the great change in his condition that Christina had destined for him. He was Generalissimo of the army, was given the title of Royal Highness and a decent revenue for the upkeep of his court, but Christina refused to allow him a Principality. She said it was an Arcanum Domus Regiæ that no land should be assigned to a hereditary Prince. This phrase was a favourite one with her when she wanted to enforce her will upon him. The Garter of the dethroned Charles II was offered to him, but Christina forbade his accepting it. "No foreigner shall put his mark on my sheep", she said. Besides, foreign orders might interfere with loyalty to his sovereign, "who should be as jealous as a husband is of the honour of his wife". On the same principle she refused to allow him the governorship of the Swedish possessions in Germany. He was always acquiescent in these little tyrannies, and contented himself with the excellent sport on his productive island, and the rebuilding of his château, anxious above all to please his benefactress who was so powerful that she was capable of revoking the Act of Succession if he did not behave himself.
Christina temporized with her Ministers when she promised they should know at her coronation whether she would marry or not. She had not the least intention of marrying. Magnus de la Gardie had inspired her with a special aversion from Charles Gustavus, and it seems not unlikely that he had also proved to her that a close and permanent relation with any man would be odious to her peculiar nature. Tout savoir! Christina's curiosity about life surely did not stop short of one of its most intriguing mysteries. Whatever she may say in her Memoirs, there was nothing virginal in her temperament. She was rather a bachelor by nature and inclination. "Libero io nacqui e vissi e morrò sciolto [sic]" was the inscription she had engraved on a medal in later life. "Free!" That was all that mattered.
Christina, in spite of her contempt for clothes, had a great love of pageantry, and her coronation was of a magnificence that nearly drained the coffers of Sweden quite dry. On the 14th of October, 1650, she retired from Stockholm to the de la Gardie house at Jacobstad [sic], whence she was to make her state entry into the capital. Her host entertained her with great magnificence, and in order to supply plenty of drink for everyone, four fountains of Spanish and French wines, white and red, played throughout a day and night. It was an unfortunate year for so much splendour, for bad harvests and famine had made the plight of the peasants worse than ever.
On the 20th there was a magnificent exodus of the nobility from Stockholm to escort her to her capital. At two o'clock the procession began, led by a regiment of cavalry. There followed:
The Guards in yellow and black.
Trumpeters and drummer with silver drums.
Pages in blue and yellow velvet with silver trimmings.
Trumpeters and officers of the Court.
THE QUEEN'S CHARGER, covered with a black velvet cloth embroidered with gold.
More trumpeters and a great number of Her Majesty's gentlemen and the nobility of Livonia.
The rest of the nobility of the country.
All the Senators of the Realm each in his own carriage.
Prince Adolphus, brother to Charles Gustavus.
PRINCE CHARLES GUSTAVUS.
The Grand Equerry, who walked in front of the Queen's carriage.
THE QUEEN'S CARRIAGE, which was of black velvet covered with gold embroidery, and was surrounded by a quantity of Pages of the Chamber, halberdiers, archers, footmen who walked behind and around it.
The Queen-Mother and her suite.
All the ladies of the Court.
Twelve mules richly harnessed, and six wagons carrying the Queen's luggage.
An immense triumphal arch had been erected at the entrance of the city. Though made of wood, and covered with stuff, it had been painted to resemble stone, with battle scenes from the German war depicted, emblems and devices, and an elaborate inscription in gold letters on black, praising the greatness of the Queen and her reign. This work of art, the like of which had never been seen, cost sixteen thousand crowns.
Friday and Saturday were spent in preparations for the coronation ceremony and presentation of gifts to the Queen from her subject states and cities.
At eleven on Sunday the great coronation procession began. The Grand Treasurer carried the Golden Key; the Chancellor carried the Golden Apple; Gustav Horn, son of the great Admiral who had died, carried the Sceptre, and the Grand Constable Jacob de la Gardie, now blind, carried the Sword, led by his son, Jacques de la Gardie.
Her Majesty, in a crimson velvet car richly embroidered in gold, was surrounded by her officers, pages and halberdiers, among whom was Count Magnus de la Gardie, who carried the Royal Banner.
After some beautiful music, good long sermons were preached by the Bishop of Strengnas, her old tutor Matthaie, and the Archbishop, and then the coronation began. Christina repeated the oath word by word in a loud, clear voice after the Chancellor, and the Archbishop, taking with two fingers the precious oil from the cruse he held, anointed her head, after which he placed the crown upon it. The Grand Officers presented her with the Sword, the Sceptre, the Golden Apple and the Key. A herald cried to the people present:
"The most powerful Christina is crowned, Herself and No Other!"
After that, with Charles Gustavus, in a long robe of ermine, at her side, she sat on a throne to receive the homage of her subjects. And then in a superb triumphal chariot of gold, drawn by four white horses, she drove back to the Palace, her Treasurer scattering gold medals and money among the crowd as she went; the cannon roared, the people shouted, and nearly everyone forgot for the moment that there were such things as poverty and discontent. Perhaps in the Cathedral, Axel Oxenstierna, who loved Sweden better than himself, looking back at another coronation, may have sighed for the loss of her greatest son at so critical a moment of her history, and for the obstinate egotism of the blue-eyed little monarch perched up there with Gustavus's crown on her head. Her extravagance was dragging her country deeper and deeper into the debt from which it had never had a chance to recover since the war.
Magnus de la Gardie and his futile mission to France! There he was, brilliant and still triumphant — his Queen's banner held high aloft — his cold eye glancing at Charles Gustavus in his ermine robe. Heir to the throne Charles might be, but when would that shadow turn to substance? Husband to Christina he would never be; Magnus had seen to that. Charles was admirably disposed of, tucked away safely in his château, quietly pursuing his bucolic pleasures and buxom wenches, the prospect of his remote future keeping him on excellent behaviour. For Magnus the way was now even clearer. His marriage with a Palatine had only consolidated his position. Christina continued to caress him, and there was very little fear of a rival to his own urbane charms at the Swedish Court.
It was a galling fact that Axel Oxenstierna, one of the great figures of European history, had less influence on the Queen than that pretty courtier. It was not surprising if the deep, sombre eyes of the Chancellor were turned balefully upon the young favourite. He did not know that here was only the beginning of his tragedy, that his young charge and pupil was destined to go against every principle that he had tried to teach her, that the power of Magnus de la Gardie was of the minutest importance in the sum of Christina's strange, disorganized life.
_-_Nationalmuseum_-_18075.tif.jpg)
Above: Kristina.
Above: Karl Gustav.
Above: Magnus Gabriel de la Gardie.
Above: Axel Oxenstierna.
Above: Faith Compton Mackenzie.
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