Source:
Memoirs of Christina, Queen of Sweden, volume 1, pages 10 to 21, by Henry Woodhead, 1863; original at the University of Michigan
The account:
... Married, in 1620, to the beautiful Maria Leonora, of Brandenburg, [Gustavus Adolphus] had, in 1621, a daughter, who lived only a few hours, and in 1623 another daughter, who received the name of Christina, but died before she was a year old. The astrologers, who were still in fashion, now ventured to depart from their usual vague style of prediction, and to prophesy that the Queen would have a son. They also said that one of three events would happen, either of which was probable enough. They foreboded that the child's birth would be followed immediately by its death, or by the death of its mother, or by that of Gustavus himself, who had just returned, sick and exhausted, from a campaign in Poland. It appeared, at first, that the seers had made a fortunate guess, for, on the 8th of December, 1626, it was announced, to the joy of the parents, and of the Swedish Court, that the Queen was delivered of a male child.
It was remarked that the sun, Venus, Mercury, and Mars, were in the same signs they had been thirty-two years before, at the birth of Gustavus himself, when the illustrious Tycho Brahe had not disdained to cast his horoscope, and to predict that he would be a king.
Great were the lamentations when it was found the child was really a girl, but had been taken for a boy because it was dark and ugly, and cried with a loud, rough voice.
No one liked to explain the mistake to the King. At last his sister, the Princess Catharine, took the child in her arms and announced to him that he had a daughter. Gustavus was too noble to show any vexation, even if he felt it. He kissed the child and said, "Let us thank God, sister; I hope this girl will be as good as a boy." His sister reminded him that he was still young, and might have a boy afterwards; but he required no such consolation. He said, "Sister, I am content; and pray God to preserve this child." He added, smiling, "This will be an arch girl, she puts tricks upon us so soon."
It was said that, at her baptism, the Lutheran minister who officiated, inadvertently made the sign of the cross, contrary to the practice of his church, although this anecdote has rather the appearance of being invented subsequently.
Maria Leonora did not show such equanimity as her husband, when informed of the child's sex; she took a dislike to her because she was not a boy, and because she was ugly.
Christina seems to have remembered this with considerable bitterness; and states in her memoirs that her attendants frequently let her drop on purpose, thinking that it would not displease her mother if she were quietly disposed of.
This is a most improbable story; but she might naturally feel some anger at the carelessness of her attendants, as one of these accidents had the effect of injuring her right shoulder, and causing it to be permanently somewhat higher than the other, a defect, however, which was afterwards concealed by her dress.
In the spring of 1627, Gustavus Adolphus returned to Poland, where, as usual, victory attended his arms, but where he was seriously wounded.
Influenced, perhaps, by the danger he had just escaped, he induced the States, on his return, to acknowledge Christina as his successor.
During the time that he remained in Sweden, he took the most lively interest in all that concerned his child. When about two years old, she had a dangerous illness, while Gustavus was on a tour inspecting some mines; couriers were sent to inform him; and his anxiety to see her was so great, that he outstripped them all in his return to Stockholm. After her recovery, he took her on a tour with him. When the royal party arrived at the fortified town of Calmar, the commandant was doubtful whether he should fire the usual salute, as he feared it might alarm the child. The King, however, ordered him to fire, saying, "She is a soldier's daughter, and must get accustomed to it."
So far was Christina from being frightened at the noise, that she evinced the greatest delight, and though unable to talk, she clapped her hands, and made signs that she wished the firing to be repeated. Her father's care, however, could not supply the place of a mother's tenderness. He desired that she should be educated in all respects like a prince, and that none of the sentiments of her sex should be cultivated except virtue and modesty. Her own inclinations seconded these directions; she always preserved an extreme aversion for feminine employments, and for the society of women. She used to say that she liked men, not because they were men, but because they were not women. No doubt the foundation of many of her eccentricities was laid in this way at a very early age.
The time was now approaching when the genius of Gustavus Adolphus was to be displayed on a wider stage. He left Sweden in 1630, never to return, but to acquire in the short space of two years a fame seldom, if ever, surpassed for military ability — a fame ennobled by piety and humanity. The Emperor called him a king of snow, who would soon disappear in the sun of the south, but another adversary said more justly that Gustavus came into Germany with a small force, but as a snowball rolling from the top of a mountain is formed into a great mass, so he, passing from one enterprise to another, had no less than ten armies under his banners at the time of his death.
Christina was not yet four years old when she parted with her illustrious father, but even at that tender age she reciprocated his affections so strongly that she wept incessantly for days after his departure, and an anecdote told of the great Gustavus shows that his heart was equally tender. Shortly before he sailed for Germany, while he was actively engaged in the necessary preparations, Christina went to him one day with a little speech which had been carefully prepared for the occasion. The King was just giving some important orders, and did not attend to her at first, but the child would not be put off; she went up to him and pulled him towards her by his sword-belt. The heart of the hero was touched by this silent appeal: he took her in his arms, and burst into tears.
The parting would have been dismal indeed if they had known they were never to meet again; that she would be so soon deprived of his care, and left in the most difficult position, to be guided by her weak mother, by rude soldiers, designing statesmen, and unprincipled adventurers.
Gustavus left her in charge of her only aunt, his sister Catharine, who was married to the Palatine John Casimir, and who was a princess in every way worthy of the trust.
Her governor was Axel Banér, a senator of Sweden, and grand master of the royal household. His father had perished on the scaffold under Charles IX., but Gustavus converted a hostile and injured family into devoted adherents and friends. It was happy for Sweden that he did so, for John Banér retrieved the fortunes of his country when they appeared well nigh desperate.
Axel Banér did not take any very active part in the management of Christina, and she speaks rather contemptuously of him in her memoirs, as of a rude and somewhat licentious soldier.
Gustavus showed great judgment in his choice of John Matthiæ for her tutor. It was he who inspired one of her most admirable qualities, the spirit of toleration. He was a man of great learning, of mild, pure, and simple character. He was long engaged in attempting to reconcile the conflicting religions — a scheme which, chimerical as we may now consider it, was thought possible at that time by men of the greatest wisdom and learning, by Erasmus, Cassander, Casaubon, and Hugo Grotius.
His gentle spirit and innocent life could not save him from the persecution of the Lutheran clergy. He published a book, in 1656, on religious toleration, which was fiercely attacked, as well as one he wrote afterwards on the same subject, called "Rami Olivæ Septentrionalis." For this last work he was formally accused of heresy. He was ultimately obliged to resign his bishopric of Strengnäs; but his children were ennobled, and received the appropriate name of Oljequists, or Olive-branches.
The general superintendence of Christina was committed to John Skytte during the absence of Oxenstiern. She describes him as pompous and pedantic — an account quite in accordance with the favour he received from James the First, who paid him great attention, and knighted him. He was Chancellor of the University of Upsala, the noble endowment of which, by Gustavus Adolphus, was said to have been caused by his influence. Skytte also founded schools in Lapland, partly at his own expense. There was a good deal of jealousy between him and Oxenstiern, caused principally by Skytte's democratic feelings. On one occasion he came late to the council, which Oxenstiern noticed, and said, "He supposed Skytte had been detained studying Machiavelli", to which he replied, "You know him naturally, without study." His jealousy of the great authority of the Regent was no secret. When Oxenstiern returned from Germany, he went to visit Skytte at Grönsjö. One of the latter's children peeped in at the Chancellor, and said, in an audible whisper, "Father, is this one of the little kings?"
Skytte endeavoured to silence the boy, and to change the subject; but Oxenstiern remarked, gruffly, "The little pigs grunt like the old boar."
Christina's own writings give her opinion of the importance of a good education in childhood. She says, "Important as it is to every one, it is especially so to princes, and those who give them a bad education are not less guilty than those monsters who poison the rivers and wells from which the public supply is drawn." She adds, "It is most true, and every one ought to be aware of it, that the greatest of all misfortunes is to be in the hands of a fool who has unlimited power."
Two original letters from Christina to her father are preserved among the Swedish archives. They are without date; but, as she was only four years old when he went to Germany, they can hardly have been written before that time. They are in German, and are natural, child-like letters, asking her father to come back to her soon, and, in the meantime, to send her something pretty. Gustavus never came back; but, amidst all his occupations, he thought often and anxiously of his child. He gave the chief care of her to his Chancellor, Axel Oxenstiern, in case of his own death, and a better choice could not have been made. Oxenstiern was not without important faults; but, in addition to transcendent abilities, he possessed a rare combination of fidelity, integrity, and devotion to duty. In the greatest difficulties he never wavered or faltered; in prosperity or in adversity he showed matchless patience, courage, and sagacity.
The King's letter, in which he recommends his wife and child to Oxenstiern in case of his own death, is particularly interesting. It is not merely the formal charge of a Sovereign, to a subject he esteems and trusts, but also the affectionate appeal of a man to his friend.
It is dated Goldnau, the 4th of December, 1630, and begins: — "My well-beloved Chancellor, the news I have received of your exertions, show your fidelity to me and to your country: those who live will see our success, and posterity will sound your praises, if to your good judgment you join your accustomed diligence and zeal. I would give you more details of our present position, but my hand is too stiff from my recent wounds. I am assembling my troops by the river with the intention of attacking the enemy presently. And, though our cause is good and just, yet, by reason of our sins, the issue of war is uncertain, neither can we reckon on the duration of life: I therefore exhort and entreat you, by the love of Christ, that, if all does not go on well, you will not lose courage. I conjure you to remember me, and the welfare of my family, and to act towards me and mine as you would have God act towards you and yours, and as I will act to you and yours if it should please God that I survive you, and that your family should have need of me. If any accident happens to me, my family are to be pitied: for my sake and for other reasons. The mother without capacity, the daughter an infant. Unfortunate if they govern, and in danger if others govern them."
We shall see presently how nobly Oxenstiern obeyed the injunction, "not to lose courage if things did not go well;" with what unwavering fidelity he supported Christina's interests, and how she was in his thoughts to the very hour of his death, when he sighed out his last, "I knew she would regret — but — still — she is the daughter of the great Gustavus."
Above: Kristina with Gustav Adolf.
Above: Gustav Adolf and Maria Eleonora.
Above: Axel Oxenstierna.
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