Source:
The Sibyl of the North: The Tale of Christina, Queen of Sweden, pages 190 to 203, by Faith Compton Mackenzie, 1931; original scan at the Universal Digital Library; this and scan without pages 196-197 flipped up at the Public Library of India
The account:
CHAPTER XIII
THE REGENCY
THE leading personality in the Regency was Christina's old favourite and enemy, Magnus de la Gardie. He was now a commanding figure in Swedish politics. His youthful good looks had matured to remarkable distinction, and the dash of French blood gave him that elegance which his compeers lacked. The Queen-Mother and Prince Adolphus were secondary figures, but they were unanimous in the decision that, since Christina was here, there was nothing to be done but to receive her with all the superficial honours that were her due. She entered Stockholm in state and was led by the boy King to her own apartments in the Palace, which he had given up to her.
Almost her first act was to turn one of the rooms into a chapel, where Mass was immediately celebrated with as much publicity as possible. There was bravado in the manner of asserting her faith without regard to the sentiments of her Lutheran hosts, but it served only to give the Regency just the pretext they needed for incommoding her. Their first move was to insist upon the departure of the Italians of her suite, including the Abbé Santini, her chaplain, on the grounds that besides being Papists, they were people of scandalous behaviour. She was obliged to give way to this, and sent them to Hamburg, where they awaited her return.
The Senate was not long left in doubt as to the principal object of her visit. It was to confirm the decrees passed at her abdication with regard to her revenues — to ensure, in fact, that under the new order of things she would not lose what so far she had never really succeeded in getting. The first issue was with the clergy, who seized this opportunity of stating to her what they had been thinking ever since her conversion, that according to the decrees of Gustavus, her grandfather, whoever deserted the Faith for Popery should renounce inheritance and all rights and privileges whatsoever in the realm of Sweden. However, because she was her father's daughter and for the sake of her illustrious ancestors, they were prepared to concede the revenues originally promised as an act of grace.
But the chapel, which was opposite the apartment of the young King, must be instantly dismantled. There must be no exercise of Popery in public or in secret while she was a guest in the Palace. Christina wept; but the chapel was dismantled. Now it was her turn.
On the 16th of November the Senate received with amazement a document in her own hand, wherein she declared that, if the present King died without heirs, she had the right to the throne, and no one could deprive her of it. This bomb, which was really no more than a firework, dropped into the midst of the assemble just when it thought Christina and her affairs were settled, was returned to her still smoking within an hour. The King was a sickly child, and a frail buffer between Christina and the crown if she meant to have it. A second Act of Renunciation was hastily drawn up, in which she abandoned once and for all any claim to the throne of Sweden. This she was obliged to sign, while Magnus de la Gardie stood by, with his courtly manner and malicious smile.
Though she was ever missing a crown on her head, her wish to reign again in Sweden was only momentary. Something had to be done to startle the Senate, and she had certainly succeeded in doing that. A gracious Act of Renunciation, however, with an heroic background, was a very different thing from this emergency document forced upon her by a hostile Regency. She was wretched in Stockholm, but her financial affairs were not securely settled yet, and she would not leave Sweden until they were. She spent Christmas in the capital, hearing Mass at M. Terlon's house and communicating as publicly as possible. In the new year she moved to her own town of Norrköping, accompanied by Terlon, who, when he returned to Stockholm, left his chaplain, Vacquier, in the Queen's temporary service. Here Galeazzo Gualdo arrived from France, where he had spent a year trying to negotiate money advances for her but with little success. Then there were more Turco-Venetian dreams, for Gualdo, who was a Venetian, brought her messages from the Republic asking for help against the infidel.
In the four months that she was at Norrköping she was planning vast schemes — the Crusade, Catholic liberty in the North, and other high matters before which the throne of Sweden faded into insignificance. Whatever her schemes were, her ultimate goal was always Rome, and her desire to leave Sweden acute. She writes at the end of a letter to her secretary, Davidsson, in Hamburg:
"You will see me in Hamburg when I think it advisable, or rather when my affairs allow it; because you know that, if I let them out of my sight without having put the last touches, all the trouble I have taken will be wasted." She bids him "console my poor Italians" and says that her desire is to return to Rome as soon as possible.
It was impossible for Christina to be anywhere, least of all in Sweden, without stirring up discord. Her stormy petrel personality was bound to create factions, and the Regency saw real danger in her provocative presence in the realm. She was therefore attacked continually at her most vulnerable point — her religion. Though there was no interference with Catholic representatives of foreign countries, Christina and her suite were embarrassed to an extent that almost amounted to persecution. Vacquier, the chaplain, was ordered to leave her, though there had been no objection to him when he was with Terlon. An accumulation of offensive measures brought her to desperation, and in March she wrote to her Governor-General, Bååt:
"For God's sake[,] make haste to settle my affairs, so that I can leave as soon as possible this country where I am so cruelly persecuted, because I assure you that as soon as I get my money I shall not stay in this place an hour, and I would rather die miserably elsewhere than live in Sweden subjected to daily insults. ..."
In April, 1661, her affairs were apparently in order, but she could not escape without being entertained by the Regency, who throughout the process of attrition had observed all the outward forms of friendliness. On the 13th of April she wrote to Prince Adolphus to try and excuse herself from attending the fête he proposed in her honour, as she had at all costs to go immediately to Hamburg, but a second note from her six days later shows that the Prince was so persistent in his invitation that she had to yield. There was scarcely a hint of triumph in de la Gardie's courtly farewell. Magnificent, unassailable, he could wait. His revenge was cumulative — no sudden stroke, that was not his way — just a series of discomforts so that her life in Rome, or wherever she chose to be, should never be quite free from preoccupations.
She was as glad to leave Sweden as she had been six years ago, and gladder still to get back to her "poor Italians" who greeted her with such genuine pleasure when she arrived at last in Hamburg. Here she was obliged to remain for a year, chiefly engaged in organizing her financial affairs with the Jew, Texiera. He now became sole administrator of her Swedish funds, and an elaborate was drawn up whereby he was to be gradually paid back all the large sums he had lent her from time to time, and on his side he was to ensure her a certain income of eight thousand crowns a month. This was all on the assumption that her Swedish funds would now be regularly forthcoming.
The idea of Catholic liberty was again taken up with enthusiasm. She wrote to all the Catholic rulers[,] inviting their interest in the scheme. Gualdo was rushed off to France to put the matter before Louis XIV. Louis temporized, not wanting to offend Christina. The Emperor Leopold of Austria definitely refused to have anything to do with it, foreseeing a similar indulgence being demanded of himself for Protestants in his own realm. The King of Poland was discouraging, and Philip of Spain left his answer so late that it did not come until the idea had vanished into smoke. At any rate Rome would hear of Christina's efforts and applaud them. These exercises in haute politique kept her mind and pen busy, and if they wasted other people's time[,] they served to stir things up.
There was nothing that had happened since she left Rome which was not known to Azzolino. She herself wrote him long, intimate letters, and her secretaries kept him minutely informed of every detail of her life. He was waiting for her at Terni when she arrived from Hamburg. Outside Rome she was met by one of the Chigi cardinals, who took her straight to the Vatican[,] where she kissed the Pope's toe. Her costume for this ceremony was remarkable. Her hair was tied up with a disorderly arrangement of different coloured ribbons; her head was powdered, not by art, but by the dusty roads round Rome; a veil was attached to the back of her neck and drawn under one arm. With her usual just-au-corps she wore a transparent skirt[,] through which her riding breeches could be plainly discerned.
But however attired, she was welcomed with enthusiasm by Alexander. So far as he knew[,] there were no projects in the air to embroil him, and the news of her financial adjustments had expanded his heart with goodwill and friendliness. She went straight to the Palazzo Riario after this interview, but, though an immense amount of work had been done to it in the last year, it was not quite ready for her. Azzolino had prepared a small pavilion as a temporary residence on the Gianicolo, where the statue of Garibaldi now stands. Here she lived for the rest of the year. The Turco-Venetian project came up again. Gualdo was at hand to spur her on, and the Venetian Ambassador supported him. Christina determined to raise a regiment herself. For this her jewellery should be sold; it was worth three hundred thousand crowns, and only forty-six thousand would be needed to reclaim it from pawn. If she raised a regiment[,] it would inspire other Christian princes.
A bitter disappointment awaited her. In spite of her efforts at Stockholm, Texiera wrote complaining that her revenue was not coming in from Sweden, and that instead of her debt to him diminishing[,] it was increasing. Azzolino's feelings at this news must have been mixed. He was looking forward to a properly organized and securely established household at last for Christina on the strength of the Texiera contract. But if the Crusade materialized, there was no guessing where the spate of expenditure would end. The news from Hamburg at least stemmed the tide. Meanwhile, he and Santini were engaged with Christina in preparing the ninety-eight missives which were to be distributed personally throughout Catholic Europe by Galeazzo Gualdo. They were drafted in French by Christina. Azzolino was responsible for the Italian, and all were transcribed in Santini's exquisite hand.
Gualdo set off on his mission in August, 1662. Though he was Christina's envoy, for some reason he had not the full authority of the Venetian Republic, and he was suspiciously regarded because of his lack of papers. He was away no less than eighteen months, but as far as the Crusade was concerned[,] he came back empty-handed, and the rich dream tapestry at the back of Christina's mind faded again. The Doge had had little belief in the enterprise from the first, and though the Venetian Ambassador wrote indignantly, "La Reine entreprend les choses et puis les abandonne au beau milieu" ["The Queen starts things and then abandons them in the middle"], in this case it was not so much her caprice as force of circumstances and the ineffectiveness of Gualdo that defeated it.
The Duc de Crequi came to Rome as French Ambassador at this time. France had withdrawn her embassy in 1653, so the arrival of the new Minister was a delicate step towards better relations between the Vatican and Louis XIV. Crequi was a pompous person whose rigid insistence on his own rights in matters of etiquette was above the ordinary. First he denied that it was his duty to pay his respects to the Pope's relations, the Cardinals Chigi, and then he obstinately refused to visit Christina unless he were given an armchair at the audience. Now, in Christina's audience chamber, armchairs were reserved exclusively for cardinals, and a stool was all Crequi would have to sit on it if he called. Christina was firm. A stool or no audience.
Details of this foolish little storm were immediately sent to M. de Lionne in Paris, and to the King himself by Azzolino. Christina also wrote to Louis, on June 27, 1662. It was a charming letter, and it declared how much she had looked forward to greeting his ambassador, but alas, that circumstances should prevent her from proclaiming her affection and respect for the beloved monarch. She begs him to order his ambassador not to ask impossible things, since she is convinced that he is still more interested in herself than in his ambassador.
The answer came swiftly. M. le Duc must sit on a stool. He obeyed with as good a grace as he could muster, and a few days later came an order from the King that he was to visit the Cardinals Chigi. The humiliating calls were paid, and all Rome laughed. There the affair should have ended, a diverting little comedy of manners.
But one night in August a party of the Duke's household was attacked by some of the Pope's Corsican Guard. No one ever knew who was the instigator of the attack, but as Cardinal Mario Chigi, the Pope's brother, was responsible for the Corsican Guard, he was not above suspicion. The Frenchmen fled to the Farnese Palace[,] where the Ambassador lodged, pursued by Corsicans, who attacked the Palace with a discharge of musketry, barely missing the Ambassador himself, who stepped out on the balcony to find out what the noise was about. The Duchess, at this moment returning in her carriage from some entertainment, was attacked and one of her pages killed.
This very grave incident roused Christina to frenzied action. She immediately sent a message to the Farnese offering her help; she arranged a visit from Cardinal Mario Chigi to the Duke, and she tried to impress upon the Pope the urgency of giving prompt satisfaction to France. In a note to Azzolino she says that she wrote to the Duke begging him to prevent his messages from leaving for Paris until the ill had been remedied.
"When it is over the Pope will realize that I have done an important service in this affair. Once more, I implore you to persuade him to give satisfaction to the Ambassador at once, because if he does not, I can foresee grave trouble. One of the Corsicans must be sacrificed, and if the real culprit is not found, then the innocent must be punished, to show that they are not being shielded and that no tricks have been used to spare them. What I say to you seems terrible, but extreme cases require extreme remedies."
The barbarous suggestion of the Northern Queen did not appeal to Alexander, who did nothing decisive, lacking vision and initiative, and fearing to probe the affair too deeply on account of his brother's possible complicity. France made it clear that full satisfaction would be demanded for the insult to her Minister and his lady, and as still Alexander hesitated, Crequi was recalled, and what Christina predicted happened. After months of negotiation and threats of invasion by France, the Pope was forced to sign the treaty of Pisa, Cardinal Flavio Chigi, his nephew, was sent to Paris bearing the Papal apologies to the King, and the Corsican Guards were abolished, a monument being erected in the place of their guard-house, with an inscription in Latin and French describing their crime and humiliation. This monument was demolished three years later.
Throughout the long and tedious quarrel Christina was writing letters to Louis, defending, as far as it was possible, the Pope, even his nepotism, which Louis had attacked, and with good reason, for it was generally admitted that the number of Alexander's relations wearing cardinals' hats was excessive. Louis became colder and more ironical as the correspondence grew, and the ultimate importance of the Crequi incident to her was the temporary loss of Louis's friendship, which was especially precious now that France and Sweden were in close alliance. It was not until 1665 that she at Louis were at peace again, chiefly because, the Pope having shown sign of failing health, Louis saw the advantage of being on good terms with Azzolino, who would obviously be one of the important figures in the next conclave, and perhaps, if sufficiently caressed, disposed to favour France, which had been sadly used by the Vatican.
The Riario was ready in January, 1662, and Christina found herself at last in a perfect background surrounded by her treasures, her magnificent library housed, her tapestries, her Correggios and the rest of her pictures adequately hung.
Flowers and shrubs filled the gardens; the shaded walks were rich with statuary; orange and lemon groves were planted. The stables were filled with horses. Turco, the Queen's favourite saddle horse, Argentino, Ballerino, Tassetto, Pallotino, Garsetto, Garaffa, Scarpaccia, Caporale, Gioia, Malatesta, Arabo, Capitano, Buffone, Belladonna, Campione, Baiard, Montedoro, Rodomonte, Cervio, Spada, Cappa Serpentino, Gesuito. An important addition to her suite was the Duke of Poli, of the great Conti family. He was described as "a big man, very gross, whose age made him grow stooping. He was certainly a Lord of Merit, full of Honour, and incorruptible Probity, reserved in discourse, and Ph[l]egmatick to the uttermost point; he would always say that everything was brought to pass with Patience. He was as severe as Cato; and as to his Economy, it would have been called sparing in another, who had not been charged with so great a number of children."
As he was one of the first gentlemen of Rome, Christina was delighted to have him in her service, though patience and economy were not qualities that appealed to her. The Duchess was lady-in-waiting, but her services were never required except at feasts, and there were no women but her faithful Italian maids about the Queen.
Among her secretaries was young Count d'Alibert, a Frenchman who first attracted Christina's attention at carnival time, when in a procession which she was watching from her window he appeared as Apollo in a gorgeous chariot representing Mount Parnassus with the Nine Muses and a concert of instruments making a fine symphony. He was afterwards admitted to her presence, and very soon was established as her Secretary of Embassies. He must have had a good deal of the easy charm that so delighted Christina in the Santinellis, and she enjoyed his chatter and nonsense. He had a gift for organizing amusement, and among his activities were a comedy theatre at the Torre di Nona, a tennis-court near the Piazza di Spagna, and several gaming-houses. Christina sent him as ambassador of peace to Louis XIV when the Crequi affair was at its worst, but he was soon sent back with an ironical note from the King.
These four years, from 1662 to 1666, were, but for the eternal money questions, tranquil and happy. Texiera, it is true, sent continual complaints of the slow, feeble trickle of funds from Sweden, and after the second year of his contract with her he had to reduce her monthly income from eight thousand crowns to five thousand. Azzolino worked himself more strenuously than ever for the decent and economical maintenance of her little Court, and, with him always at hand, and the knowledge of his complete devotion to her interests, her life was almost unclouded.
The Pope paid her a visit. Since the cooling of her relations with France, Alexander's heart had warmed towards her, and this visit to the Riario was a signal for all Rome to be at her doors. But still the ladies were only accommodated with cushions if with anything at all, for Christina continued to receive them standing, and as before cleared the floor for the men. But she did not suffer bores of any kind, male or female. To one, who remarked on her love of solitude, she simply said:
"Better three days alone than half an hour with you."
A great deal of the solitude at which this courtier marvelled was passed in her laboratory, where she would spend hours filtering and distilling, trying to make the gold she so sorely needed, but only pouring out too much of what she had on expensive equipment, drugs, quicksilver and the like, and being disgracefully cheated by her assistant chemist, Bandiere. Though he made enormous profits by roguery, his life was not an enviable one, for Christina would keep him up all night at the furnaces, as this was her time of leisure, and his continued failure to produce anything that faintly resembled gold often brought pots and pans hurtling at his head and a vigorous bastinado from the Queen herself. When Azzolino discovered the dishonesty of Bandiere, he insisted upon his being paid a monthly wage and two hundred pistoles for the distillation expenses, but the astute creature was too much even for Azzolino, and the expenses became so shattering that even Christina was shocked and gave up chemistry for a time. But she did not dismiss Bandiere, who turned his talents to spying, tale-bearing and blackmailing among her suite, until finally Azzolino, exasperated by the presence of the low creature about the Queen, gave him the rope to hang himself in the shape of the monthly distribution of alms among the deserving poor, which it was Christina's habit to dispense. Naturally the deserving poor got none of it, but it was a long time before Christina would accept the assurance of Azzolino that the receits were forged, and that most of the alms had gone to nymphs of the Settignana Gate.
Italy does not reveal her inmost self at once, though superficially she may give that impression. The midday glamour that binds and delightfully confuses is all she gives to her casual visitor; he goes ecstatically home to the North with a burden of spurious souvenirs which have suited the irresponsible moment, but he does not know Italy. For Christina the tourist spirit was dead. Her collection of counterfeits was cast away — the Santinellis, Monaldesco, and their crew — and now the fine flower of Italy was hers; the South held her in thrall for the rest of her life.
Now it was not of Italy that Christina must beware, but of her own people. The administration of her Swedish property was not merely careless; it was criminal. Not one of the governors of her various domains protected her interests in the slightest degree. They did not trouble to collect the revenues which were her due, and most of them, especially Appelmann[,] who governed Pomerania, lived like princes on the money that should have been hers. No wonder that one of Christina's axioms was:
"On change de voleurs en changeant de ministres. Il y a des exceptions a cette régle, mais assez rare."
["One changes thieves in changing ministers. There are exceptions to this rule, but they are quite rare."]
One of the exceptions was Lorenzo Adami, her Captain of the Guard. He was chosen by Christina to go to Hamburg and Sweden to interview Texiera and to examine the accounts of her governors, and remedy, if possible, the hopeless state of her finances. In spite of the fact that all his business was done through an interpreter, he made himself complete master of the situation, and his correspondence with Azzolino showed on either side how whole-hearted was their loyalty to Christina. Adami did splendid and fearless work in the domains; his scheme was to let the three islands, Öland, Gotland and Ösel, which so far had been entirely unprofitable, to the highest bidders, who, taking the revenue themselves, were to pay handsome rents annually to Texiera. Appelmann was terrified into guaranteeing thirty thousand crowns from Pomerania, and Norrköping was to yield twenty thousand. This was only part of Adami's mission, and the rest of it was political. He discovered that there was a large party in the Senate that had disapproved of the rigorous treatment of Christina on her last visit, and of the conclusions of the Secret Commission which was held in 1664 to consider the possibility of her return. If she did propose to come back, she was to be forbidden to practise her religion, neither a priest nor a chapel would be allowed to her, and she must not be in Stockholm if the Diet was sitting. There must be nothing but Lutherans in her Court. Her return was eagerly awaited by many; and, most interesting of all, he was able to send by her secretary, Stropp, not only the details of his activities in her domains, but the information that the Regency intended to hold an extraordinary Diet in June.
All this news, culminating in the prospect of a Diet, decided Christina. The time had come for another journey.
Above: Kristina.
Above: Cardinal Decio Azzolino.
Above: Faith Compton Mackenzie.
Note: Ösel is the old German and Swedish name for the Estonian island of Saaremaa.
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