Source:
The Sibyl of the North: The Tale of Christina, Queen of Sweden, pages 13 to 19, by Faith Compton Mackenzie, 1931
The account:
"I was born covered with hair; my voice was strong and harsh", says Christina in her Memoirs, dedicated to God.
She came into the world masquerading as a male, and throughout her life she continued to do so as often as possible. She should have had a tall, straight body — a slim body to deck with doublet and hose and swashbuckling cape — a fine boy's neck to carry a sunburnt, clear-cut head crowned with a plumed cap. But her physical make-up was almost aggressively feminine. Her stature was small; she was plump, with a fine neck and bosom, and a perfect complexion. One shoulder was slightly higher than the other, a defect she took pains to conceal, though she says she could have cured it if she had taken the trouble. She dressed in fantastic parodies of man's attire — flat shoes with small black heels, a plain grey jacket, a black mariner's tie, a velvet cavalry cap which she put on and off like a man, ruffles at her wrist and her hair plainly braided. A concession to the feminine mode was a grey skirt, but this was short. So she appeared when Bulstrode Whitelock visited her on his embassy from Cromwell. She made no toilet except on state occasions, when she allowed her attendants to spend not more than half an hour upon it. She described herself as "the least curious in clothes of any woman". Her hair was dressed once a week except on state occasions. Her clothes were generally spotted with ink, and her indifference to appearance at a time when personal cleanliness was at best superficial, amounted to a measure of neglect which was sharply observed by her female critics. "Some people", she said once, "are silly enough to be slaves and martyrs to clothes and fashions and are unhappy if they do not spend their lives between the mirror and the comb. Tidiness is only for the idle."
Her hands were beautiful, masculine in form though very white, more indicative of her tendencies than any other feature; for her eyes, her magnificent eyes, might have belonged to either sex. They were full, lustrous eyes, glowing in an aquiline face.
Here is her portrait in regal robes. The little figure in the richly simple gown is posed like some portrait of Queen Victoria. One hand rests upon a book, her hair is plainly done, parted in the middle and adorned with a glittering ornament. A necklace of pearls, one brooch at her corsage, and two rings are all her jewels.
This soft, womanly exterior was the inadequate dwelling-place of a fiery genius with an insatiable lust for life and knowledge. If Christina had had a strong masculine body to match her mind she would have been one of the great figures of history. Most of her exalted schemes ended in smoke because her body got tired and reacted on her mind. Her pursuit of an idea was impassioned, but it simply wore her out; obstacles bored her, and in later life she met them at every turn. Besides, she had generally, as is the way with genius, squeezed all the juice out of a sensation before the average person would begin to realize that there was any juice in it. And then it was finished — cast away like an empty fruit-skin.
The story of her birth is like a fairy-tale. Her father, Il Rè d'Oro, the Golden King whose hair was the colour of honey and whose eyes sparkled like blue sea in sunlight — Gustavus Adolphus the Great — and his wife, Marie of Brandenburg, whom he adored, prayed for a son to be born. The stars were consulted and astrologers predicted the birth of an heir. Hopes therefore ran high in the Palace of Stockholm, when the Queen's labour was begun. So far she had only brought into the world two daughters, who had died as infants. But here was the longed-for heir about to be born; all the signs were in favour, and Gustavus Adolphus was as superstitious as any Papist.
It is not surprising that the sound of that strong, harsh voice and the sight of that hairy little body should fill the corridors with a rushing wind of silken skirts, and the Queen's ladies went tumbling over one another to be the first bearer of the good news. Haste and over-enthusiasm may have been responsible for the mistake. Yet the Queen herself was deceived; and because the disappointment might have serious consequences, she was not undeceived until after the King. As soon as the truth was broken to her she took a violent dislike to the child, even to the extent, Christina says, of arranging accidents to put her out of the way.
The King had already ordered celebrations appropriate to the birth of a son and heir to the throne when his sister Catherine, Princess Palatine, brought the baby into his presence. The truth was made known to him. He took the odd little morsel into his arms, and in spite of the withering disappointment that must have been at his heart, he said: "Let us be grateful to God: I hope this daughter may be as a son to me."
He would not cancel or modify the public rejoicings.
As a Prince she was welcomed by the people of Sweden, and as a Prince she was educated. From the moment that he took her in his arms she became her father's first care and dearest joy. Before she was two years old she delighted him when he took her to Kalmar, the great fortress, by applauding the salute of guns which the governor had hesitated to fire for fear of frightening her. She not only applauded, but made it clear that she wanted more. From that day she accompanied her father when he reviewed his troops. Mars, besides Venus and Mercury, was in the ascendant at her birth.
When she was four, on the 19th of May, 1630, her father presented her formally to the Estates as his heir. It was the eve of his departure for Germany on his last and greatest campaign for the Protestant cause. After his solemn speech of farewell was finished, Christina noticed that, though she had learnt a little "compliment" to repeat to the assembly, her father, occupied in conversation, had forgotten her. She pulled the tail of his coat and he, turning, took her in his arms. Moved, no doubt, by the fact that he had forgotten her for a moment, and that possibly he would be leaving her forever on the morrow, he wept as he embraced her before the assembly. Whether she repeated her little "compliment" or not after this she does not relate. But she cried for three days after his departure, so violently and so continuously that her eyes were seriously injured. This storm of emotion in so young a child, at a parting most children of that age would hardly realize, was regarded, and rightly, as of evil omen. She never saw Gustavus Adolphus again. But she wrote him two letters in German, and this is one of them.
"MOST GRACIOUS AND WELL-BELOVED FATHER, — After having assured Your Majesty of my humble filial respects, and prayed that the All-Powerful God grant you perfect health for the consolation of your obedient daughter: I beg Your Majesty to come back very soon, and to bring me at the same time some pretty things. I am, thank God, in good health. I try to learn to pray every day.
I remain, Your Majesty's dutiful daughter,
CHRISTINA. P. S."
Gustavus Adolphus is one of the great figures of history. He fought among his soldiers as one of themselves, always in the forefront of the battle. He had the spirit of a Crusader, and with his high idealism went a genius for statecraft and the art of war. No wonder that English and Scottish volunteers flocked to fight under his banner. Such names as Ramsey, Ruthven, Stewart, Douglas and Hamilton were to be found among his officers. While at rest, after a battle, he would make music with his lute, singing softly to himself songs and hymns of his own composing.
The King was not unconscious of his consort's lack of character. He was devoted to her, with the passion great heroes often feel for women of feeble character, but he was too wise to be blind to her failings. Someone [Bildt] described her as "Cette poupée encombrante et gênante". Gustavus ensured that she should have no voice in the upbringing of Christina, by giving the child into the care of his sister Catherine and her husband, John Casimir, Prince Palatine, and by planning minutely the scheme of her education himself. Governors, preceptors and masters were chosen by him with meticulous foresight.
He appointed a Regency of five great officers of State to rule the kingdom during his absence at the wars. Foremost among these was the Chancellor Axel Oxenstierna, Gustavus's nearest friend and a man of genius little inferior to the King himself. Here was a great statesman, an incorruptible, devoted servant of the house of Vasa and of his country, with a profound knowledge of European affairs. "A tall, proper, straight old man ... his hair grey, his beard broad and long, his countenance sober and fixed, and his carriage grave and civil." So Whitelock, the English ambassador, described him. Christina herself, much as she admired his qualities, thought him a little too slow and phlegmatic.
The other four members of the Regency were Baron Gabriel Oxenstierna, brother of the Chancellor; Baron Gyldenheim, a natural son of Charles IX, and half-brother of Gustavus Adolphus, who loved Christina, she says, as his own child; another Oxenstierna, cousin of the Chancellor; and Count Jacob de la Gardie, High Marshal, of French extraction, whose son Magnus played a sinister part in Christina's life.
Besides the Regency there were her tutors and governors. Axel Banér, brother of the Field-Marshal, was appointed her governor-in-chief. He was an accomplished courtier, a favourite of the King's and, Christina says, a companion of all his debaucheries. This calls for indignant comment by Arckenholtz, her chronicler, who declares that though Gustavus Adolphus loved amusement, he was never given to excesses, and was only known to have one child on the côte gauche, Count Gustaf Gustafsson de Wasaborg, to whom he behaved as a father should, directing his education with as much discretion as he did Christina's. This ingenuous remark of the single-minded Arckenholtz does not prove much, but the lofty strain in which Christina's own Memoirs are pitched may explain the use of the word "debauch" for an evening of august relaxation. However this may be, Gustavus Adolphus was so devoted to Banér that he made him a gentleman of the bedchamber, shared his bed with him before he was married — and afterwards, when the Queen was absent. Christina found him an excellent courtier, but deplorably ignorant, knowing no language but his own (almost a criminal offence in her eyes), much given to wine and women, but withal an honest man.
Gustavus Horn, her sous gouverneur, was more to her liking. He was a distinguished general, had travelled, and spoke passably several languages. Though he suffered from the vices of the age, he had at least a veneer of cosmopolitan address. But her favourite was John Matthaie, who was her instructor in religion, letters and the sciences. She says of him that he was suspected of a strong leaning towards Calvinism. "I do not know if he was misjudged, but at least it was the only fault that could be found with him. At any rate, it did not matter at all whether he was Calvinist or Lutheran. I was not going to be either."
This good man became Bishop of Strengnas, but, by reason of his broad-minded tolerance and desire for general reconciliation of religion, the jealous and bigoted ecclesiastics in power after Christina had abandoned her throne obliged him to resign his bishopric. Christina, however, never forgot him and helped him liberally till his death. Gustavus Adolphus, who fought and died for his religious convictions (with an eye always upon the Baltic) had no suspicions of Matthaie's alleged Calvinistic leanings or he would not have entrusted his child's religious education to him. He naturally dreaded more than anything the possibility of her being perverted from Lutheranism to Calvinism. The prospect of so dreadful a retrogression as later occured was mercifully hidden from him.
Above: Kristina.
Above: Gustav Adolf and Maria Eleonora.
Above: Faith Compton Mackenzie.
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