Arthur Henry Hardinge's essay on Kristina, year 1880, part 8

Source:

Queen Christina of Sweden: Lothian Prize Essay for 1880, pages 57 to 61, by Arthur Henry Hardinge, 1880; original at the University of Michigan

https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015012302041&seq=63

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE.

The essay:

Passing through Savoy, she arrived on the 17th of November at Turin, where Duke Charles Emanuel received her; but the plague raging at Rome prevented her from returning there immediately, and she spent her time in visiting Pesaro, Bologna, Ancona, and other cities of the north of Italy. Her recollections of the court of France were[,] however[,] so pleasant, that she determined in 1657, after a short stay at Rome [sic], to return there for a second visit, and in the autumn of that year she arrived at Fontainebleau. This second visit was rendered tragic, by an event which is a serious blot on Christina's character, the execution or murder of her equerry, Monaldeschi. The story is one over which a certain mystery will always hang; our knowledge of the facts of the case are mainly derived from the narrative of Père le Bel, Prior to the Mathurine order, and himself an eye-witness of the tragedy. They are something as follows.

Monaldeschi was an Italian equerry of Christina's, and enjoyed, it would appear, an unusual share of her confidence. He had conceived, however, a deep jealousy for another Italian courtier, the Marquis Sentinelli [sic], whom Christina had made grand chamberlain in the place of the disgraced De la Cueva. The queen was at this time engaged in carrying on secret negotiations, the subject of which cannot now be known, but which were conjectured to have for their object the restoration of peace between France and Spain; others pretended that they had in view the acquisition by Christina of some principality in Germany; all that can be said with any certainty about them is, that they were strictly secret. Monaldeschi, who knew the nature of these State papers, was suspected by the queen of having for some time past systematically divulged their contents, and a careful observation of all his proceedings, together with the perusal of certain intercepted letters, satisfied her that her suspicions were correct. His guilt was increased by the fact that he endeavoured to ruin his rival, Sentinelli, by trying to make it appear as though the failure of the queen's schemes (in reality caused by his own treachery) was due to him, and thus added to the crime of deceiving and betraying his mistress, the yet blacker crime of attempting to destroy an innocent man, by imputing to him acts for which he himself was alone to blame. Indeed, it is not easy to decide whether his treason was not the means by which he hoped to ruin Sentinelli, rather than an end which he proposed to facilitate by drawing off attention from his own conduct to that of another. The whole transaction, in fact, is wrapped in an obscurity which makes it difficult to form a clear idea of the extent of Monaldeschi's crime. It seems, however, that the queen, having become possessed of certain compromising letters, sent for Monaldeschi, and told him that she had reason to suspect treachery amongst her servants, and that he accused Sentinelli, and entreated her to shew no mercy to a crime which could only be expiated by death. "Very well", Christina answered, "recollect your words: for my part, I promise you that I will not pardon him." The letters were made up into a sealed packet, and placed in the hands of Père le Bel, the Mathurine Prior.

Meanwhile, Monaldeschi became alarmed at having received no answer to his letters, and suspecting that they might have been intercepted, began to think of flight. His plans did not escape the notice of Christina, who for some time past had watched his actions closely, and who now determined to anticipate his flight. Sending for him on the 15th of November, to the Galerie des Cerfs at Fontainebleau, she confronted him with Père le Bel, who at her request now handed back to her the sealed packet confided to him. It contained the clearest evidence in his own handwriting of Monaldeschi's guilt. He at first tried to deny it; but on his letters being read, and his own signature, shewn him, his courage completely gave way. Throwing himself at her feet, he clung to the queen, and implored her to allow him to clear himself. She heard his defence, which was nothing but a tissue of excuses and appeals for mercy, patiently and without emotion. The scene lasted more than an hour. At last Christina turned to the prior: "I leave this man", she said, "in your hands. Prepare him for death, and do what you can for the salvation of his soul." In vain the good priest endeavoured to intercede for him: Christina was not to be moved: once more recommending Monaldeschi to prepare for death, she passed out of the gallery, leaving him alone with the prior, and with three men with drawn swords, who had been stationed there to execute him. The piteous cries of the condemned man induced the prior to go to the queen's room, and once more to attempt to soften her. His efforts, however, were quite unavailing; indeed, he rather harmed his cause than otherwise, by suggesting that the King of France might punish an act of violence thus daringly committed in one of his own castles. If Christina ever felt the slightest touch of pity for her victim, this ill-advised remonstrance aroused all her pride, and made her determined to assert her royal prerogative to the full. The prior, seeing the hopelessness of further intercession, returned to the gallery to do his duty. Monaldeschi's incoherent confession to him was interrupted by the entrance of one of the queen's chaplains, who appeared to hold a short conference with one of the three executioners; but the respite for which he had hoped did not come. One of the armed men, raising his sword, turned towards him. "Ask pardon of God, Marquis", he cried; "there is no help for it; you must die." Then, thrusting at him with his sword, he cut through the fingers of the hand with which his victim tried to parry the blow. At the same time, the other two men rushed at him, and hewed at his head and neck until he fell to the ground, where they struck repeated blows at him as he lay. These were, however, without effect, for he wore under his clothes a suit of armour, the interposition of which prolonged his agony. So strong was the love of life still in him, that, on hearing the door open, the miserable man, with his fingers half hacked off, and the blood streaming from gashes in his head and face, still struggled to crawl towards it, in the hope that a pardon might have come. A sword-thrust through his throat finally deprived him of speech; though he lay for more than a quarter-of-an-hour gasping on the ground, and slowly bleeding to death. The walls and floor of the Galerie des Cerfs were bespattered with his blood, nor was it ever possible entirely to efface the stains.

The cruel and violent manner of Monaldeschi's death aroused, not unnaturally, strong feelings against Christina; and the Court of France was especially indignant at her having chosen one of the king's palaces as the scene of a bloodthirsty and arbitrary act of revenge. A more important aspect of the affair was, that it raised the question of how far such an act was legally justifiable. Even if we admit, it was asked, that a king has the right of life and death over his subjects in his own kingdom, does not that right cease when, as a guest, he enters the territory of another sovereign? Can this right of life and death, too, be exercised upon the subject of another power? and even if this is granted, can it be said to belong to a prince who is only a titular or de jure king, and not possessed of any territorial jurisdiction? These questions were rendered all the more difficult of answer, from the fact that there were no precedents known for such an act; the only instances being one of Charles II. having executed a servant called Manning in Germany, and of a Spanish ambassador, who had hung a culprit of his own nation at Venice! Those who defended Christina argued that, on leaving Sweden, she had reserved to herself full royal rights over her servants; that amongst those royal rights was undoubtedly the jus gladii; and if it was contended that she could not use this right except within her own territorial jurisdiction, it was clear that she could not use it at all; and that therefore her power of enforcing obedience, and all her pretended royal rights, would be a mere empty name. Nor, it was said, could she "violate" the law of France, for "violation" implied that she was amenable, and therefore subject to it — a position incompatible with the absolute equality of crowned heads one to another. As regards the point raised as to Monaldeschi being by birth a Roman subject, it was argued that, inasmuch as Christina had no territorial jurisdiction, and was yet a queen and a power with full rights, all those who became her servants and received her pay must, independently of territorial limits, become for the time her subjects. The fact that neither Louis XIV., in whose dominions the act was committed, nor the Pope, whose subject Monaldeschi was by birth, took any notice of it [sic], seems to sure that they both regarded it as legally defensible; though the place selected by Christina for perpetrating it, the manner in which it was carried out, and the cold and brutal indifference which she displayed on the subject, afford just grounds for severely blaming her conduct.

Above: Kristina condemns Monaldeschi to die, painted by Johan Fredrik Höckert.