Source:
The Sibyl of the North: The Tale of Christina, Queen of Sweden, pages 151 to 162, by Faith Compton Mackenzie, 1931; original scan at the Universal Digital Library
Kristina's letter of December 20/30 (New Style), 1656 to Cardinal Decio Azzolino is here:
The account:
CHAPTER X
PARIS AND COMPIÈGNE
AT Marseilles Christina was welcomed in the name of Louis XIV by his Grand Chamberlain, the Duc de Guise. Her request for no ceremony was as little regarded as no doubt she had meant it to be. Louis XIV had ordered that she was to be received with all the pomp and circumstances due to a reigning monarch. But ceremonies did not prevent the journey to Fontainebleau from being a diverting adventure for the traveller and her escort. M. le Duc was enchanted by the Amazon ways of the Queen and her spirited conversation. He presented her with three of his own perukes, one of which she always wore under a huge plumed hat that she took off and on as she did her little cavalry cap at Stockholm. She was good fun, he found, and magnificent company for a man whose experience of women was so wide that novelty was hard to come by.
There was a piquant little episode at Lyons which might have been a bit of play-acting for his amusement. M. le Duc was evidently taken with her boyish ways. That pretty lady at Lyons was certainly her type, but probably if the Duke had not been there she would not have been embarrassed by such a violent assault on her beauty. Christina "la baisait partout; la gorge, les yeux, le front, très amoureusement et mesme la voulait baiser la langue à la bouche, et coucher avec elle, ce que le femme [sic] ne voulut pas." [Edouard Palatine of Bavaria.]
At Fontainebleau Christina was met by La Grande Mademoiselle, heroine of the Fronde, who was prepared, after the tales she had heard of the Swedish Queen, to laugh at her odd ways and mode of dressing. But quaint though she might be with her crooked little figure, her short petticoats and cavalier's hat, and her boy's boots, Mademoiselle found, to her surprise, that she did not want to laugh, but was impressed by the beauty of the flaming azure eyes and the general air of "a pretty little boy" that she presented. But she could not approve of the Queen's behaviour at the play: "In her praise of places that pleased her, she would swear by God, throw herself back in her chair, tossing her legs about and assuming postures hardly decent." She talked agreeably on many subjects, and sometimes fell into a profound reverie, sighing deeply and coming to herself suddenly as though waking from a dream. They went to see some firing on the water at night. Christina held Mademoiselle's hand, and when the latter winced at a near shot she cried: "What! a young lady who has seen so much and done so many fine things, afraid?" She then confided to Mademoiselle that the desire of her life was to be present at a battle. This desire, in spite of all her efforts, was never to be gratified.
The Court was at Compiègne at this time, and after a few days at Fontainebleau, Christina set out again and made a state entry into Paris, on a white horse and clothed in scarlet. Her welcome from the people of Paris was all that royalty could desire. Patin says that such a crowd had never been seen. Wherever she went[,] her public appearances were always successful. She had a magnetic charm which she could exert to the destruction of all criticism, and her sense of the stage never failed her. Sometimes she could not resist making grimaces at the crowd, and a favourite trick was to make a lightning change of clothes in her coach — queen to cavalier and vice versa. She knew when to be gracious and sweet, and her magnificent outbursts of obscenity were often prompted by the desire to stir up things when they were becoming monotonous. This was the case when, before her departure from the Louvre in Paris[,] where she was lodged, she astonished a large and distinguished company which had been basking in her graciousness, with a resounding oath of such grossness that even the Duc de Guise, who was present, turned pale.
The motive underlying her keen friendship with France was, under the circumstances, surprising. It was inspired by nothing less than the desire for another crown. Emancipation had already revealed its drawbacks, and, after all, a throne ensured some certainty as to revenue. One was, at any rate, not a poor relation grudgingly provided for. The fantastic project upon which she was bent was the conquest of the kingdom of Naples. Herself at the head of an army of French troops would wrest the crown from her late friend and protector, Philip of Spain. There were already French troops in Italy serving under the Duke of Modena, who was friendly to France and the scheme. Monaldesco was to be Field-Marshal. That ill-starred favourite was busily engaged in secret negotiations already. Funds for the enterprise must be conjured from somewhere, and Christina, already an adept at devising ways and means, conceived the idea of mulcting France of at least part of the large debt she still owed to Sweden on the Thirty Years' War subsidies. Mazarin would, of course, be against such a scheme, but the pill would be well wrapped up in the promise that she would make a Prince of France her heir, and the prospect of putting another spoke in the wheel of Philip of Spain. She must have discussed this project with the Duc de Guise as they travelled from Marseilles, for he had governed Naples for a while with immense success until the Spaniards imprisoned him and seized the kingdom once more. Five kings of different nations had reigned in Naples within two years. It was a kingdom worth conquering. Five hundred leagues in circuit, it consisted of twelve large provinces, with twenty archbishoprics, over a hundred bishoprics, thirty castles and plenty of princes, dukes and marquises. Best of all, the King's revenue was at least three million crowns a year.
A fair land and a sweet and lovely climate, fit for a queen.
At Chantilly Christina rested, and it was here that Mazarin first met her. They dined together, and afterwards a great crowd of people came to pay their respects. Among them were two young men who attracted her special attention. When they knelt to kiss her robe[,] she raised each and kissed him on the cheek. Mazarin presented them as young gentlemen of quality.
"I can well believe you. They look to me worthy to wear a crown."
She had recognized Louis and his brother, for Louis, says St. Simon, was as easily distinguished as a queen bee in her hive. For a youthful lark they had ridden over from Compiègne to get a private view of the Amazon Queen before the formal ceremonies on the morrow. Louis was a shy, diffident lad in those days, but it was noticed how eagerly he conversed with Christina as soon as she had, by calling him mon frère, revealed that his identity was no secret to her. She found him enchanting; she liked his grace of bearing, his grave and sweet countenance, and most of all[,] his radiant youth. He was shyly in love, she knew, but deeply, with Olympe Mancini [sic]. Christina made friends with him and held him long in conversation. After this delightful interview Louis and Philippe galloped back to Compiègne in the dark. Next day the new château of Maréchal de la Motte-Houdencourt, a few miles out of Compiègne, was the scene of Christina's formal meeting with the King and Anne of Austria. Standing on the great terrace in front of the house, the Queen-Mother and her two sons, surrounded by the Court in habits of gold and silver embroideries and all very gay [cheerful], waited for the arrival of the interesting guest.
A flourish of trumpets and she appeared, not this time on horseback[,] but driving with the Duc de Guise and Cardinal Mazarin. As soon as she saw the Queen-Mother she descended from the carriage. Though Anne had been prepared for an unusual-looking personage, she was amazed at the appearance of Christina, and afterwards declared that she had never imagined anything like her. It was certainly not one of Christina's best days in the matter of costume. Her semi-masculine coat was carelessly put on, showing more than was necessary of her crooked shoulder. Her peruke was awry and dishevelled, and there was some lack of cohesion between her shirt and collar. Nothing met when it should, with the result that expanses of back and neck were unnecessarily revealed. Perhaps the drive had been dusty, for her face looked ill-washed, and as for her beautiful hands, they were filthy. The first impression she made on this delicately soigné Court was more of fear than pleasure. In spite of this[,] she was annoyed by the eagerness of the exquisite mob which surged into the house after her and surrounded the two Queens so closely that they were obliged to escape from it into the house, Christina keeping well ahead to make it quite clear that she was taking precedence with Anne. There was a great deal of talk about this at the time, and some said that Louis later on reproved his mother for giving way to her. But it would seem a natural courtesy to the guest whose anomalous position as queen without a throne called for privileges rather than rights.
There followed a gorgeous feast. Christina ate with appetite, and anyone listening for pearls of wisdom was disappointed in her conversation, which was light and negligible.
Over there was Olympe Mancini. The Duc de Guise pointed her out. She was staring, like everyone else, at the fascinating guest. Christina half rose in her chair and saluted the dark charmer. Later on she amused herself by encouraging the affair with Louis, making herself his confidante and assuring him that if she were in his place she would marry where she loved. Her influence was strong enough to cause his mother some anxiety. Whatever she might think of Cardinal Mazarin, she had no wish for his niece as a daughter-in-law. The Cardinal himself was against it, because, as Christina says, he knew that marriage was a sovereign remedy for love and the nuptial bed its tomb.
Christina wrote to Azzolino of Louis:
"He talks little but well, concealing his feelings with marvellous address, so well that I am of the opinion that they are never very violent, and in consequence he has not much difficulty in controlling them. He is more civil and courteous than it is possible to imagine. I think he will be valiant, and indeed that he is already, and will certainly be a great prince if he ever takes his duties seriously. At the present moment he is absorbed in fine clothes, horses, hunting and dancing, and is a marvellously good athlete. He is tall, well-made and handsome, but less so than he is painted. Finally[,] he is in love with the Mancini, but with such moderation and virtue that I don't believe that in all the three years he has been paying attention to her he has ever dared to touch the tip of her finger."
The first evening at Compiègne[,] Christina was taken to see the Italian Comedy. It was very bad, and she did not hesitate to say so. Generally, she was assured, the comedians did better.
"I should hope so", she replied coldly. "Otherwise you would not keep them."
Apparently there were no women in attendance on her at this moment, which may account for her unkempt appearance that day. At any rate, Madame de Motteville says that her toilet that night was superintended by some of the King's valets de chambre, because she was without attendants. "She had neither ladies, officers, equipage, nor money", says this diarist, who was always inclined to exaggerate. But Christina had not the least objection to being waited on by men on the most intimate occasions. They were in and out of her apartments as a matter of course, and they did not fuss her as a herd of women attendants would, with their ridiculous ideas about inky fingers and clean linen. However, the King's valets seem to have accomplished something, for she appeared next day with her peruke curled and powdered, her face improved by a night's repose and some fresh spring water, her hands clean and a flame-coloured just-au-corps above her grey skirt.
A good performance by the Comédie Française Company compensated for the Italian fiasco, and Christina was loud in her praise, even while the play was going on. A tragedy acted by the Jesuits, however, on the 18th September was a sad affair, and Christina laughed rudely at it. There were fêtes of all kinds during her short stay at Compiègne, but affairs were not neglected[,] and the Naples project was discussed at length with Mazarin, who was not going to commit France to anything definite, and soothed Christina with the promise that, if she could get the Pope's approval, something might be done. With this she had to be content, and set off from Compiègne, leaving mostly pleasant impressions behind her, though there were some who said she only left just in time.
At Senlis she visited Ninon de Lenclos. Ninon says in a letter to Madame de Sevigné [sic] that they talked of love, but Christina does not mention the subject of their conversation, which was long and engrossing. The journey to Italy was broken at Savoy, where she was received in great state by the Duke and his Court, but the Duchesse Mère complicated things by insisting upon taking precedence of Christina if they met. This suggestion was, of course, repudiated by Christina, and a deadlock was only avoided by her retiring to bed and pretending to be ill, so that the Duchess could visit her in bed and no one's dignity would be any the worse.
At Turin, having got into communication again with the Duke of Modena about the Naples project, she decided to send Monaldesco back to Paris to try and get something definite out of Mazarin. The plague was still raging in Rome, so from Turin she set off for Pesaro with the idea of visiting Venice. But Venice again was unwilling, and this time the war with the Turks was given as the pretext for postponing her visit. This was enough to make Venice the most desirable place in the world, and there is a story that she went there dressed as a sailor. She made her headquarters at Pesaro, and was in constant correspondence with Azzolino. It was grievous to have to postpone seeing him again. He was already trying to help her with counsels of economy, with little success. When he begged her to reduce her guard, which was ever increasing, Santinelli exclaimed:
"Better to be without bread than without guards!"
Christina was quite ready to agree with him. One could not have too many men about, and Santinelli was busy enrolling the youth of Pesaro and Bologna. He was still Grand Chamberlain and in high favour. Two women joined the suite about this time, with their husbands, Count Rangoni and Vicino Orsini. Donna Barbara Rangoni was fifty, had hair "more dead than alive" and one black tooth in the middle of the rest. She could never have been good-looking, but was gallant and proud. She had wit, dressed in the French manner, and was ambitious. Madame Orsini was a few years older, made up heavily, had no teeth at all, and went to confession several times a week. These portraits are drawn by Monsignor Lascaris, who was Azzolino's representative and kept the Cardinal minutely informed of all that went on. In one letter he writes:
"Her Majesty is more beautiful and dévote than ever. Yesterday she put on a gown of black velvet, trimmed with many blue ribbons and a very fine man's collar. It was enough to drive one mad, most of all when, picking up a certain French comedy, she began to read it aloud by the light of a candle. She read the rôle of Diana in love with Endymion so well that several times I was on the point of saying to her: 'Madame, though I am called lasca, I declare that in truth cefalo would be a better name.'"
Santinelli followed Monaldesco to Paris, as the Naples negotiations seemed to be hanging fire. He returned with fifteen thousand crowns, and a message from Mazarin that, though favourable to the scheme, he would rather postpone it to a more propitious moment. That was the best Santinelli could do, and of course the sum was quite useless for any serious purpose. Christina was discouraged, and her thoughts turned towards Rome. Santinelli was dispatched at once to find out if the Farnese was still at her disposition. No sooner had Santinelli departed than all plans were changed. She would go to France again; this Naples project must not be dropped entirely, and if she were not on the spot[,] Mazarin would never come to the point. All through the summer letters were going back and forth between Paris and Pesaro, and every letter of Mazarin's was more discouraging. He stressed the importance of getting the Pope's interest, and the risk to the cause of her coming so soon again to France. Santinelli came back from Rome full of the great reception she would have if she returned, and with optimistic assurances as to the expenses of the journey and re-establishment at the Farnese. But Christina had quite made up her mind. She was going to France whether Mazarin wanted her or not.
It must have been during this hot and rather trying summer that the differences between Santinelli and Monaldesco began to develop. The wonder was that they had managed to keep friends for so long, for each had good cause to be jealous of the other with regard to Christina's favour — so evenly was her affection balanced between the two. Both were ambitious and unscrupulous. It was a question only of which was the cleverer, and Monaldesco was soon to demonstrate that one can be too clever.
The ladies Rangoni and Orsini proved too much for Christina; their wit and piety were not enough to compensate for their dental failings. In their places Christina engaged the sisters Portia, Ottavia and Francesca Passaglia Giustiniani, handsome girls who, despite their impressive name, were simple femmes de chambre. Two of them, Portia and Ottavia, faithfully served her till her death. Francesca died young, but Portia and Ottavia married Italian gentlemen and became ladies-in-waiting.
Now the first act of the Monaldesco drama begins. Santinelli was not to come to France. He was sent back to Rome with six thousand of the crowns from France to put the Farnese in order for her occupation later on. With two thousand two hundred he was to reclaim the Queen's diamonds which had been pawned to pay for her first journey to France. He did reclaim them, but only to pawn them again with a Jew for his own advantage. He spent nothing on the Farnese, in which he had really only been able to get a small apartment for himself. He charged to the Queen's account the expenses of a gentleman-in-waiting whom he declared was necessary to his rank and position. This gentleman did not exist. So sure was he that out of the vast disorder of Christina's affairs no villainy, however blatant, would ever be discovered, that he coolly helped himself to her gold and silver plates, selling some, and altering the coat of arms to his own on others. He even went to the length of burning embroideries to extract the gold and silver from them. It was all so easy that he scarcely took the trouble to conceal his thefts from the world, with the result that someone sent the news to Monaldesco.
Christina started on her new journey in July, and her first halt of any importance was at Lyons. Here the historian, Galeazzo Gualdo, joined her suite and became one of her most fervent supporters. She was full of affairs, and sent the lesser Santinelli, Ludovico, with a long letter to the Duke of Modena, setting out her plan of campaign. By this time she had managed to get a definite invitation to the Court of France, but was begged to stay at Fontainebleau till the King returned to Paris from Compiègne. At Fontainebleau she arrived in October, and began again attempting to adjust her revenue complications. Appelmann was sent to Sweden to try and negotiate new proposals which in the end came to nothing. Meanwhile, Ludovico Santinelli had come back post haste from the Duke of Modena, and Christina amused herself by ordering from des Touschelles the equipment of her entourage for her entry into Naples. There were forty violet liveries for the Swiss Guards, embroidered with crimson and white passement, violet livery for two dozen pages, for twenty-five footmen, three coachmen and twenty-four palefreniers. Clairet Poisonnet was to be clothed in grey trimmed with gold galloon and black velvet. The femmes de chambre all had complete new wardrobes, and the Queen herself six new just-au-corps of different colours and material, each with a sword, a baudrier, and "a pair of men's boots for riding".
Above: Kristina.
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