Source:
The Sibyl of the North: The Tale of Christina, Queen of Sweden, pages 137 to 150, by Faith Compton Mackenzie, 1931; original scan at the Universal Digital Library
Kristina's letter of January 6/16 (Old Style), 1656 to Ebba Sparre is here:
The account:
CHAPTER IX
PALAZZO FARNESE
PALAZZO FARNESE of the Dukes of Parma, which is now the French Embassy, was designed by Sangallo for Alexander Farnese[,] who became Pope Paul III in 1534. It was finished by Michael Angelo for Cardinal Alexander Farnese, grandson of Pope Paul, and is supposed to be built partly of stone from the Colosseum, which was at one time used as a quarry by all and sundry architects. History enough in the classic structure itself to stir the imagination of the Northern Queen. But within the splendid frame, with its square and terraced court, its three orders of columns, and its roof garden, were priceless examples of painting and sculpture beyond even Christina's dreams.
The Toro Farnese was still there; it was not moved to Naples until 1786. Caracci had done his greatest work in the upper gallery, covering the walls and ceilings with marvellous painting in deep relief; Salviati and Zuccaro had decorated the great hall. Christina, no doubt, knew the fame of every detail in this treasure-palace before she entered it. She must have heard of the altar service of deeply cut crystal which was unique — chalice, bell, sprinkler and crucifix all of purest crystal wrought with the holy story; and of the marble head supposed to be a portrait from life of Christ.
There was no room for her own enormous collection of treasures, most of which, with her library, was still at Antwerp. When she took possession of the Palazzo after her visit to the Vatican, she was amused to find many of the world-famed statues swathed in white draperies. Even Venus looked coyly over her shoulder from a muddle of chaste folds. Christina had them all removed at once, and hung a number of her most lascivious masterpieces without delay.
"How like a priest!" she said when told that "Monsignore Governatore was responsible for this error of judgment. A bewildering person, this virgin queen with her odd collection of courtiers and ideas.
The salon she longed for materialized. Princes, cardinals, and all the leading figures in art and politics flocked to the Farnese. The great Roman families vied with each other in entertainments of unheard-of lavishness. Prince Pamphili, who had cast away his cardinal's hat to marry the beautiful Olimpia Aldobrandini, Princess of Rossano, built an enormous amphitheatre outside the Pamphili Palace, to accommodate Christina and the aristocracy of Rome while they watched horse-racing and masquerades; with fêtes, suppers and the like[,] it was estimated to have cost them forty thousand crowns. Not to be outdone, the Barberini and Palestrini put up an amphitheatre to hold six thousand persons, where not only comedies and operas were performed, but elephants and various wild animals appeared, fountains played and all sorts of artful natural phenomena took place.
Christina thoroughly enjoyed these spectacles, but the aristocracy of Rome were soon made to understand that she took no interest in themselves. The ladies complained very soon of her haughty manner, and her insistence on such etiquette when they visited her that they were all kept standing for hours till they fainted, whereas rumour said that when only men were present, everything was apparently as easy as could be. The ladies of Rome were so indignant that they began absenting themselves from her salon, which was exactly what Christina wanted. She had no time for Court Ladies unless they had special gifts....
"How happy I should be if I could see you, Belle, but I am condemned by Fate to love and appreciate you always without ever seeing you; and the jealousy of the stars towards human felicity prevents me from being entirely happy, because I cannot be that, separated from you. Do not doubt this, and believe me that wherever I am in this world, there will be somebody who is entirely yours, as I have always been. But is it possible, dear Belle, that you still remember me? Am I still as dear to you as I was in the old days? Didn't I deceive myself when I imagined that I was the person you loved best in the world? Ah, if that is so, do not undeceive me; leave me my illusion, and do not grudge me the happiness of thinking myself beloved by the most charming creature in the world ... believe that, no matter what happens, I shall never cease to be yours. Adieu[,] Belle. A thousand kisses.
CHRISTINA ALEXANDRA."
This was to Ebba Sparre a fortnight after her arrival in Rome. She never ceased to desire the company of her favourite maid-of-honour, and was constantly sending letters and messages — not exactly begging her to come, but making it very evident that she was wanted. In five years[,] Ebba was dead. How long, if she had lived, Christina would have gone on loving and wanting her[,] it is not easy to surmise, but she was certainly the only woman who inspired a lasting affection.
No, she had no time for Court Ladies, and she certainly had no time for the strict etiquette observed by the Roman aristocracy. She renounced the throne to escape from these things, though her insistence on certain occasions on small points with regard to her own dignity grew more marked as she realized how much she had surrendered with her crown.
Pimentelli seems to have already lost ground with Christina before Rome was reached. De la Cueva was head of the household, but now the majority in power were Italians, and the most important of these was Francesco Santinelli, who was now Grand Chamberlain.
Santinelli and Monaldesco! If Christina had searched the world[,] she could not have found a more perfect pair of blackguards. Ludovico Santinelli was nearly as generously endowed with fascinating qualities as his brother, but he seems to have had, if not a conscience, at least a sense of what was the limit. Or was it only envy of Francesco's superior gifts that made him cry "Voilà qui commence bien!" when he found him selling Christina's plate and jewellery and pocketing the profits himself?
Santinelli and Monaldesco soon found each other out. The obvious course was to form an alliance, and under their leadership the servants robbed and pillaged undisturbed. Gold and silver galloon was torn from the furniture. Priceless pieces of silver — cups and chandeliers particularly — were removed and plated copper substituted. Pimentelli's coach was ravaged even while he waited on the Queen. Splendid doors were torn down and used for firewood. It was as though a herd of wild beasts had been let loose in the Farnese. The Marquis Giandemaria, whom the Duke of Parma had deputed to do the honours of the Palazzo, was in despair. He appealed to the Pope, to Christina herself, who blamed de la Cueva for not attending to his duties. Things came to such a pass that when the Queen and her attendants visited the Fulvius Orsinus museum which was housed in the Palazzo, Giandemaria was reluctantly obliged to have the company followed and watched throughout their peregrination.
Christina was perfectly indifferent to the behaviour of her people. She submitted to being robbed and cheated, chiefly because, acutely conscious that their salaries were badly in arrears, she found it more expedient to shut one eye, even though the depredations were not confined to her own property. Responsibility was the one thing she was determined to avoid, and she flung herself into her new-born freedom with a zest only tempered by the usual misgivings as to ways and means. In spite of her insane extravagance[,] which was enough to make the most imprudent gasp, she could not ignore the instability of her financial affairs. The huge sum borrowed in Antwerp had vanished, and the Swedish revenues had not yet made their appearance.
Scarcely had Christina abandoned her throne when Charles Gustavus led his people to war against Poland. The Swedish government was delighted to be at the old game again, and every crown that could be raised was poured out on it. Christina was apprehensive of the future. Supposing her country should repudiate its obligations on the score of her conversion or the necessities of the campaign against Poland? Where would she be? What on earth could she do? She could not hope that Alexander VII would make himself responsible for her vast expenses, though he had made her a generous gift on her arrival. This was only a gentilezza which could not often be repeated. There was no hope but Sweden, and Sweden had made no sign.
Such were the anxieties that gnawed at Christina's consciousness while she sat at the play or entertained Rome in the Caracci gallery or gazed at the new comet, or discoursed at the academy she founded, which was to be known for centuries as the Arcadia. Must freedom always be tempered with preoccupations even in the short hours she allowed herself for sleep? The present was all very well. Debts and promises, usurers, and pawnbrokers carried one along on a huge wave of extravagance, but on what sort of a beach was one going to be stranded? Something definite would have to be done about it if freedom was to be enjoyed at all. Her secretary, Appelmann, one of the few Swedes in her suite, was sent to Sweden to make a proposal to Charles Gustavus. It was that he should give her a lump sum of a million and a half crowns for all the domains assigned to her for revenue. She knew that there was little hope of getting this from a country that was already impoverished by her own recklessness, and she proposed as an alternative to exchange the Swedish domains for Polish domains as yet in the process of being conquered. Even this uncertainty, she considered, was better than what she foresaw would be an endless struggle for her rights. If all this failed, Appelmann must suggest selling or mortgaging some of the lands apportioned to her. Finally, as a last resource, she demanded the right for herself and her Court to practise their religion without interference if, as was probable, she was obliged to come herself to Sweden to look after her interests.
Appelmann's mission was not altogether unfruitful, although he failed to secure any of the new privileges she demanded. Charles Gustavus advised her to leave things as they were, because any alterations would involve long delays. Though he did not want her in Sweden, his disposition towards her was always generous, and the delays and difficulties were due, not to his own want of consideration, but to the continued reluctance of the Senate to disburse on her account. Christina was soothed soon after Appelmann's return by remittances that temporarily eased her situation. But she was promised an income of ninety-four thousand crowns, which should have kept her in comfort and dignity if she or her advisers had had the slightest idea of the value of money.
The ecstatically cordial relations between Christina and the Pope were doomed to wither almost at flowering. A blight had threatened even while the Queen was on her way to Rome, when discreet inquiries at the bank of Santo Spirito instituted by His Holiness revealed the fact that as yet there was not a paolo deposited to her credit. This might mean nothing, and his doubts were quenched in the surge of pride at the world-wide sensation his distinguished convert was creating, for by now he had persuaded himself that he was responsible for her conversion. He had been prepared to receive a devout lady full of fervour and good works, who would as like not spend her days in conventual seclusion, distributing largesse among the Papal charities with an eager hand, and contributing in every possible way to the glory of the Church. But what was the use of a royal convert who made not the slightest show of piety in public?
"Better an Ave Maria before the world than a thousand prayers in private", he insisted, presenting her with a rosary which she declined to use.
"Non mica voglio essere Cattolica da bacchettone", she said.
Far from consenting to make a show of praying in public, she behaved in St. Peter's much as in the old days at Stockholm, only[,] instead of playing with dogs[,] she chatted with cardinals. Then there was that uncomfortable incident of Cardinal Colonna, who was over fifty and should have known better. He fell in love with Christina, and even went to the undignified length of serenading her at night. The Pope ordered him to leave Rome at once, and further scandal in that quarter was averted. But the scandals of her household increased daily, and Alexander was kept fully informed. He soon saw that his misgivings over the Santo Spirito inquiries were well founded. Christina had nothing to give, and[,] indeed[,] it looked as though she might become dependent on the Vatican — so wildly uncertain did her future appear, so wrapped in boreal fog the materialization of her phantom revenues. Now that he knew her better, no doubt he regretted his weakness in the matter of books on the Index. She had asked his permission to read all the forbidden books. He granted this as he would have granted anything in the first rapture of her conversion, but even then he made an exception of the Old Testament and one other book. As for the Old Testament, she must have studied that long ago in the same curious spirit in which she read Plato and Tacitus.
It was impossible with an entourage of such mixed nationalities to steer clear for long of jealousies and factions. The Spaniards, led first by Pimentelli, had not been so long predominant that they were not likely to endure any rivals. But Pimentelli, now that he had helped to achieve the intervention of Philip IV in Christina's approach to the Pope, had served his purpose, and in the matter of personal charm he had long been superseded by Santinelli. De la Cueva began to resent Santinelli, who was loaded with favours, and even sat beside Christina when she drove in her coach, which privilege had so far only been enjoyed by de la Cueva as head of her household. While this slight was rankling, M. de Lionne from the French Court was received by Christina in exasperatingly long audiences. De la Cueva at last expostulated. France was the enemy of Spain, and here was a portrait of Louis XIV in the Queen's chamber, obviously brought there by de Lionne. What did it mean?
It meant, said Christina, that she was not a subject of the King of Spain, and that if she chose to be friends with France it was nothing new, for she had always been that, and in short[,] she was not going to be dictated to by Spain or anyone else.
De la Cueva[,] in a rage[,] left the Farnese with his lady and went to the Spanish Embassy. Christina did not want this, and tried to lure him back with a present of seven horses. But horses did not appeal to Don Antonio. He went about Rome slandering the Queen, declaring[,] among other things[,] that she was la maggior putana del mondo [the greatest whore in the world]. Pimentelli joined him fervently in the campaign against Christina's character, and the chief factory of slander was from this time the house of Cardinal de' Medici, where the Spanish faction used to meet.
However wide the breach between Christina and her late Grand Equerry, etiquette demanded that he and his lady should take their congé. All the principal members of the household were assembled for this occasion, and after de la Cueva had kissed her hand and asked her pardon if he had not served her as well as he should, Christina replied in ringing tones that his conscience would tell him if he had served her well, and that if she ever heard that he had spoken disrespectfully of her again[,] she would see that he got his deserts, wherever he might be.
"As for you, Madame", she said, turning to the wife, "I thank you for having followed me from Brussels and for your services. If you have been chattering about me, I cannot blame you, because you are only a woman."
On this she dismissed them both, and said afterwards[,] if he had not been a great general to the King of Spain[,] she would have had him bastinadoed. De la Cueva and Pimentelli both left Rome, and the Italians had it all their own way at Palazzo Farnese. The war between French and Spanish was only an echo in Christina's suite. There were the French and Spanish factions at the Vatican. Cardinals d'Este and Barberini led the French faction and Cardinal de' Medici the Spanish. Between these two groups was the "flying squadron" (l'escadron volant), which was composed of the intelligentsia who resented foreign influence at the Vatican, but were ready to take advantage of either side for the benefit of the Church. Cardinals Homodei, Cardinal Imperiali, and the French Cardinal de Retz were brilliant members of this group. The leader was the youngest of them all — Decio Azzolino.
Through the haze of Santinellis, Monaldesco and their like, this star, that was to shine throughout Christina's life with a steady fire, had not yet penetrated. Her sympathies had been with the flying squadron from the first, and much of her time had been spent in colloquy with its leaders, chiefly with Borromeo, Barberini and Azzolino. She had had plenty of opportunities of appraising Azzolino's admirable intellect. She was immediately impressed by the young cardinal, with his finely tuned Latin mind active and deft as a swallow, with his wit and remarkable good looks. He was constantly at the Farnese, expounding the policy of his party, and discussing poetry and the arts and all the subjects that delighted Christina.
Then there were notes sent to and fro — so frequently that there was quite a flutter in the Vatican about them, and Azzolino was obliged to give a written declaration that his relations with the Queen of Sweden were entirely innocent. Azzolino's birthplace was Fermo, an archiepiscopal see in the Marches. He belonged to the petite noblesse, and began his ecclesiastical career at a very early age. He went to Spain as secretary to the Nuncio Pancirola, who made him his conclavist when Urban VIII died and Innocent X was created Pope. This led to his being established as Secretary of State, and being entrusted by the Pope with many duties in which his high qualities of mind and scholarly gifts were invaluable. Then the Pope, after the marriage of his nephew, Prince Pamphili, to the beautiful Princess of Rossano, adopted a certain Cardinal Astalli, and it was thanks to this prelate's underhand dealings with Spain and freeness with Vatican secrets that Azzolino owed his early promotion. The Pope promised a cardinal's hat to whoever should discover the means by which Astalli still communicated with the Spanish Ambassador after he had been forbidden to do so. Azzolino, who slept in the Montecavallo Palace, spied on Astalli and found that after the Pope had gone to bed he crept out by a little winding stair[,] at the bottom of which was a gate leading to a narrow street, through which he walked disguised to a hackney coach that took him to the Spanish Ambassador's, where he stayed for two or three hours. When the Pope heard this[,] he had him seized, deprived of all his honours, and sent him to Sicily as Bishop of Catania, where he shortly afterwards expired of grief.
That was how Azzolino, at the age of thirty-one, became a cardinal. But whatever happened, his early and rapid success was certain, because he had every possible gift for it, and any amount of ambition as well. And he was man of the world enough not to be too scrupulous when it came to the point.
Christina was too much engrossed with her Grand Chamberlain to take more than an intellectual interest in the most striking figure of the Sacred College at the time. Besides, she was already stretching out for something new. Rome and its intrigues had become boring. The de la Cueva incident had poisoned the air. Something new and unpleasant had appeared in her life.
Mingling with the people in the street at some fête she would be elbowed — a mask thrust into her face would whisper an insulting word and be lost in the crowd. Direct and horrible contact with reality! This she had never known before. To be regaled with stories about herself from the security of the throne was amusing enough. It could not seriously touch her. Now here was the first unmistakable indication that it was not going to be so easy to keep her majesty intact, and at the same time live the untrammelled life she had promised herself.
That whispered insult was like a sting on the cheek. The memory of it, and others like it, set her heart beating with apprehension. She became ill in April with serious gastric disturbances. The doctors said she had eaten too much fruit, but it was more than that. Dispiacere had outweighed pleasure in this first visit to Rome. She needed a change. A visit to Louis XIV and his mother was indicated. The French Academy was ready, she knew, to give her the welcome her gifts and erudition merited. She was longing to see the Grande Mademoiselle whose career she envied. And then perhaps on to England — Whitelock had practically invited her — to be the guest of Cromwell, whom she admired so much.
But it was difficult to contrive a good excuse for leaving Rome so soon, after only four months, and with all her financial affairs in such a muddle. Why not pretend to arrange a journey to Sweden via France to settle up her money difficulties? No objection could be raised to that. Her projected departure was announced. Cardinal Mazarin was advised that she wished to pass through France, but without any ceremony. This last request was designed to make the story plausible. Only a greeting to the royal family and the Cardinal as she hurried through on her urgent journey to the North. But the Pope was seriously alarmed. Did this incontinent desire to leave Rome mean that her enthusiasm was already on the wane, and that she was going back to her Lutheran Faith? Christina had become, in these few months, more and more of a puzzle to him. She seemed entirely devoid of piety, sometimes almost light-headed, yet the vigour and fineness of her intellect, the great qualities of heart that she sometimes revealed, convinced him that here was a personality that might become a saint — that might become one of the finest ornaments of the Church, if only managed with discretion and tact. He had not discovered the way to deal with her before she startled him with this disconcerting project, which might mean anything.
If only Christina had had patience, she need not have created these doubts in the mind of Alexander, and could have saved herself the annoyance of dissembling, for the outbreak of plague in Naples roused a scare in Rome which gave a perfectly valid excuse for flight. Having now this excuse ready to hand, she lacked the means for the journey. Nearly all her jewellery was pledged either to her own advantage or Santinelli's; the Swedish money had evaporated; the coffers of the Farnese were empty. Her diamonds followed the rest of her jewellery and brought in twelve thousand crowns — a wretched sum. There was nothing for it but to appeal to the Pope. She began by asking him for a loan of his galleys to carry her to Marseilles. After a good deal of hesitation he consented to this, but when she asked for a loan of money, he did more than hesitate. He argued with himself that to lend her money, even with the promise of its all being paid back, would not be decorous. If, as was more than possible, there was no restitution of the loss, he would have lost the money, and be merely counted as one of her creditors. If, on the other hand, he made a gift of the sum she asked, he would be no worse off than if he had "lent" it, financially, and the world would ring with tales of his generosity. Obviously, if it was to be ceded at all, it should be a handsome gift. He even went so far as to have special medals struck in silver and gold, on the reverse of which was represented the Porta Flaminia with its new inscription and Christina walking between the two cardinals. This should serve as a reminder to her of the glory of that great day of her reception, in case she should be tempted from the fold. These medals were presented to her in a purse, to which was added the sum of ten thousand crowns, with an apology for the poverty of the gift. Christina wept with emotion for the generosity of His Holiness, and preparations for the journey were put in train at once.
Monaldesco was now Grand Equerry in place of de la Cueva; Francesco Santinelli was still Grand Chamberlain; a suite of sixty persons consisting almost entirely of Italians was to accompany her. Only three women were in attendance, and they were rather simple femmes de chambre than ladies-in-waiting.
In June Christina left Rome on her new adventure. She went on horseback to Civita Vecchia, "the Pope's Town", accompanied by several cardinals, and she and her suite embarked on four of the Pope's galleys for Marseilles.
Christina was often in tears on this voyage, and she was constantly gazing at a portrait which she carried about with her.
It was the face of Cardinal Azzolino that she was regarding with so fixed and passionate an interest.
Above: Kristina.
Above: Ebba Sparre.
Above: Antonio Pimentel.
_-_Nationalmuseum,_Stockholm.jpg)
Above: Pope Alexander VII.
Above: Cardinal Decio Azzolino.
Note: The Banco di Spirito Santo (Bank of the Holy Spirit) was a bank founded by Pope Paul V on December 13, 1605. It was the first central bank in Europe (as the bank of the Papal States) at a level above city-states, the first public deposit bank in Rome, and the oldest continuously operating bank in Rome until its merger in 1992.
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