Showing posts with label 1656 stay in Pesaro. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1656 stay in Pesaro. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 30, 2025

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


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.

Sunday, July 27, 2025

Faith Compton Mackenzie on Kristina's 1656 visit to France

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.

Thursday, June 12, 2025

Baron Carl Bildt on Kristina's travels from 1654 to 1658, part 6

Source:

Christine de Suède et le cardinal Azzolino: Lettres inédites (1666-1668), pages 60 to 70, by Baron Carl Bildt, 1899


Kristina's undated 1657 letter to Azzolino is here:


The account:

Christine avait vite abandonné l'idée de pousser jusqu'en Suède. En effet, sa présence y aurait été inutile, puisque le Roi ne pouvait s'absenter du théâtre de la guerre en Pologne, et les projets de Christine pour l'arrangement de ses affaires ne pouvaient se réaliser sans lui. Elle résolut donc de retourner en Italie, et quitta Compiègne le 23 septembre. La veille elle avait obtenu pour Monaldesco la nomination de maréchal de camp dans les troupes françaises qui se trouvaient alors en Italie sous les ordres du duc François Ier de Modène. Cette faveur se rattache à un plan qui paraît avoir germé dans son cerveau pendant son premier voyage en France: la conquête de Naples par les troupes françaises, réunies à celles du duc de Modène. Christine, tout récemment la protégée et l'amie de Philippe IV, rêvait maintenant de se mettre à la tête d'une armée française pour lui arracher le royaume de Naples!

C'est à Compiègne qu'elle s'était ouverte à Mazarin de ses projets. Elle demandait à la France de l'aider à devenir reine de Naples et s'engageait de son côté à prendre pour successeur un fils de France. La réponse de Mazarin n'avait pas été très nette, car tandis que la Reine parle plus tard du «traité qu'elle fit à Compiègne», le cardinal se borne à nommer cet arrangement «le traité qu'elle avait proposé». Évidemment il ne voulait pas décourager absolument une entreprise qui pouvait toujours devenir une inquiétude et un danger de plus pour l'Espagne, mais il ne voulait non plus s'engager dans une forte dépense, et Christine avait besoin de beaucoup d'argent. Elle avait déjà fait entrevoir qu'elle comptait toucher les arriérés réclamés par la Suède à la France, sur les subsides de la guerre de Trente ans, et elle n'estimait pas cette somme à moins de 900,000 écus. — Mazarin chercha à persuader à Christine qu'il fallait commencer par agir auprès du pape pour le gagner en faveur de l'entreprise, et il la laissa partir avec de vagues promesses d'assistance, dont elle n'allait pas tarder à réclamer l'accomplissement.

Christine s'arrêta à Senlis pour visiter Ninon de Lenclos. Curieuse entrevue que celle de ces deux femmes! Christine n'a pas laissé de notes sur ce sujet, et ce n'est que par les lettres de la belle Ninon que nous savons que la conversation roula sur l'amour. Il leur aurait été en effet difficile de n'en point parler! — Continuant son voyage, elle se dirigea vers Chambéry, passa le mont Cenis le 13 octobre et arriva le 16 à Turin, où elle fut magnifiquement reçue par la Cour de Savoie. Là une question d'étiquette faillit gâter les fêtes. La duchesse mère, Christine de France, exigeait que Christine de Suède lui cédait la droite lorsqu'elle viendrait lui faire visite. Celle-ci de son côté s'y refusait absolument. On finit par arranger l'affaire de cette manière que la Reine simulerait une maladie et recevrait la duchesse au lit. Ceci n'est qu'un exemple des nombreuses histoires d'étiquette dont abonde la vie de la Reine. En ce siècle où le culte de la forme et des formalités était poussé à l'extrême, où l'on dégainait pour une place à table, où l'on se brouillait à cause du dossier du siège offert à un visiteur, Christine a été une des plus exigeantes en matière de préséance et de tout ce qui a trait à la choréographie officielle.

Pendant son séjour à Turin, elle reçut un envoyé du duc de Modène, le comte Ronchi, et lui dépêcha de son côté Monaldesco pour l'entretenir des projets sur Naples. Ceux-ci cependant restaient dans le vague, et Christine résolut d'envoyer Monaldesco à Paris pour obtenir de Mazarin des promesses et des ordres précis. En attendant, elle se dirigeait par Mantoue vers Pesaro, où elle comptait passer l'hiver. La peste l'empêchait encore de rentrer à Rome, et elle choisit alors pour résidence cette riante petite ville des Marches, peut-être sur les conseils des Santinelli, qui en étaient originaires, peut-être aussi sur ceux de cardinal Azzolino, qui y avait un ami sûr en la personne du cardinal-légat Homodei et un confident en celle du vice-légat Mgr Gasparo Lascaris.

Le 19 novembre Christine s'installait au Palais apostolique de Pesaro, et de là Monaldesco partait par la Suisse pour Paris, d'où il devait rapporter le plan de la campagne de Naples et surtout quelque acompte sur les 900,000 écus que Christine considérait lui être dus. La Reine en avait grandement besoin, et c'était le manque d'argent autant que la crainte de la peste qui la faisait s'arrêter à Pesaro malgré son vif désir de revoir Rome et Azzolino.

La correspondance avec le cardinal avait duré pendant tout le voyage, et l'absence n'avait modifié en rien les sentiments de la Reine. Elle ne pouvait parler d'Azzolino sans laisser voir sa sympathie pour sa personne, et aucun jour ne se passait sans qu'elle parlât de lui. A Pesaro on continua naturellement l'échange des lettres, mais deux d'entre elles seulement nous ont été conservées; elles n'ont pas de caractère intime. Plusieurs lettres du vice-légat Mgr Lascaris nous renseignent cependant sur leurs relations et sur ce qui se passait autour de Christine. Les lettres du cardinal étaient attendues avec impatience et lues avec bonheur. Les poésies qu'il envoyait quelquefois enchantaient la Reine. Mais les conseils qu'il donnait n'étaient pas toujours écoutés. Azzolino était avant tout un homme d'ordre et d'économie, juste le contraire de Christine et de son entourage. Il lui faisait conseiller par Lascaris de vivre aussi modestement que possible pendant sa retraite, de licencier ses gardes, par exemple. Mais les économies ne faisaient pas l'affaire de Santinelli. «Mieux vaut être sans pain que sans gardes», répliquait-il à Lascaris ébahi, et il n'eut pas de difficulté à faire accepter par Christine cette manière de voir qui ne s'accordait que trop avec ses propres idées.

Monaldesco était le principal personnage de la cour et prétendait, en qualité de grand écuyer, au titre d'Excellence. François Santinelli, grand chambellan, partageait avec lui l'administration de la maison. Toujours la vieille histoire du loup dans la bergerie! — Deux couples étaient venus s'ajouter au personnel: le comte Rangoni avec sa femme, donna Barbara, et les époux Vicino Orsini. Les comtes Caccherano et Tassoni et le chevalier Ferretti avaient été reçus en qualité de gentilshommes de la chambre.

Quelques gardes avaient été recrutés parmi la jeunesse aventureuse de Pesaro, de Padoue, de Ferrare et de Bologne et placés sous le commandement du maître de camp Tenderini, condottiere de bas étage, qui prenait le titre de capitaine de la garde «suisse» de Sa Majesté. — Santinelli devait aussi enrôler quatre pages; mais comme il fallait que ceux-ci fussent titrés ou chevaliers de Malte, ils étaient plus difficiles à trouver que les Suisses.

Les deux dames n'étaient pas précisément des beautés. Donna Barbara Rangoni approchait de la cinquantaine, était petite, grasse, avec des cheveux «plus morts que vifs et une dent noire au milieu des autres»; elle n'avait jamais été belle, «mais galante et fière». Elle avait de l'esprit, s'habillait à la française et rêvait les grandeurs. — Madame Orsini avait quelques années de plus et se fardait tellement de blanc et de rouge «qu'elle ressemblait à un de ces vieux étendards qu'avait le landgrave de Hesse, aujourd'hui cardinal». Elle n'avait plus guère de dents, mais en revanche elle se confessait et communiait plusieurs fois par semaine. — Ces deux dames touchaient chacune soixante-dix écus par mois et se faisaient appeler Excellences. — Tels sont les portraits que Lascaris envoyait à Azzolino.

L'aimable vice-légat ne détestait nullement la plaisanterie. Il la poussait même quelquefois au delà des bornes qui conviennent à une correspondance entre dignitaires de l'Église. Voici comment il raconte une visite chez la Reine: «Sa Majesté est plus belle et plus dévote que jamais. Hier elle s'est mis une toilette de velours noir toute garnie de rubans bleus avec un très beau collet d'homme. C'était chose à rendre fou, surtout quand, prenant sur la table une certaine comédie française, elle se mit à me la lire à la lueur d'une bougie. Elle lisait le rôle de Diane amoureuse d'Endymion et lisait si bien que plusieurs fois je fus sur le point de lui dire: Madame, quoiqu'on m'appelle lasca, je crois qu'en vérité, je ressemble plus au cefalo

Christine témoignait souvent de son impatience de rentrer à Rome, mais la peste sévissait encore et l'argent manquait toujours. Elle ne s'ennuyait cependant pas à Pesaro. Elle donnait des bals et des comédies au palais apostolique, organisait des parties de campagne, et en même temps ne négligeait pas le salut de son âme. Nous la trouvons, en effet, assistant à toutes les grandes cérémonies de l'Église, visitant les monastères, s'intéressant au chant des religieuses et posant la première pierre d'un couvent de capucins. Ces occupations tour à tour mondaines et religieuses ne satisfaisaient pourtant pas son esprit inquiet et actif. Son imagination se portait, avec la mobilité propre aux névrotiques, d'un sujet à un autre. Tantôt elle rêvait de revoir Rome et Azzolino, tantôt elle se voyait à la tête d'une armée française débarquant à Fondi pour marcher sur Naples, ou envahissant les Abruzzes aux côtés du duc de Modène. L'idée de la conquête de Naples la travaillait sans cesse, malgré la froideur que témoignait la Cour de France pour l'entreprise.

Santinelli avait été envoyé à Paris, peu après l'arrivée de la Reine à Pesaro, pour activer la négociation de Monaldesco. Ils retournèrent vers la mi-février avec quinze mille écus en louis d'or, mais aussi avec la réponse que Mazarin, bien que favorable en principe à l'entreprise, désirait la remettre à un temps plus propice. La somme n'était pas considérable pour Christine qui s'attendait à recevoir trois cent mille ou, pour le moins, cent mille écus, surtout si elle devait se préparer à la conquête d'un royaume. Elle le fit un peu ironiquement comprendre à Mazarin. Les quinze mille écus furent cependant les bienvenus, et pour le moment ils firent de nouveau tourner les regards de Christine vers Rome.

Elle y dépêcha Santinelli pour s'informer des conditions sanitaires de la ville et s'enquérir de la possibilité d'un prochain retour. Il devait spécialement sonder le terrain pour savoir si le palais Farnèse serait de nouveau mis à la disposition de la Reine et calculer les frais d'installation.

Était-ce peut-être une feinte pour cacher à la cour de Rome ses plans aventureux? La chose n'est point improbable, car il était clair que le pape, avec son jeu de bascule entre la France et l'Espagne, verrait de fort mauvais œil l'entreprise de Naples, et Christine ne paraît pas même avoir osé confier son secret à Azzolino, craignant sans doute qu'il ne désapprouvât sa manière d'agir. Il est également possible qu'elle ne demandait pas mieux que de renoncer à toutes ses fantaisies et de revenir à Rome pour y jouir en paix de l'affection de son ami. Cette dernière explication paraît le plus probable lorsqu'on observe la facilité avec laquelle Christine a souvent renoncé à des projets auxquels elle semblait de donner corps et âme. C'est ce qu'elle fera justement une année plus tard avec l'expédition de Naples, comme dans l'avenir avec la régence des Pays-Bas espagnols, la ligue pour Venise, l'élection au trône de Pologne, etc. Il lui faut des passe-temps pour son cerveau dominé par la névrose. Dans l'action, c'est plutôt l'excitation d'agir que l'obtention du but qu'elle recherche.

Quoi qu'il en soit, nous la voyons bientôt renoncer au voyage de Rome et se vouer à ses plans belliqueux. Elle reprend la correspondance avec Mazarin et le duc de Modène. Elle veut bien différer le coup de main à tenter sur Naples, mais non point en abandonner l'idée. Cela ne lui suffit même pas. Elle voudrait marier le roi de France à une princesse de Savoie et le duc de Savoie à une princesse de Modène; elle conseille à Mazarin de profiter de la mort récente de l'empereur Ferdinand III pour tenter d'arracher la couronne impériale à la maison d'Autriche et la donner à la Bavière. Et elle termine par cette exhortation:

«Que Votre Éminence se souvienne qu'elle est Italien et de plus cardinal. Donc quelque fortune qui lui arrive tout autre part qu'en Italie sera toujours inférieure à son mérite. Votre Éminence me comprend et je la salue.»

C'étaient de vastes projets, et il fallait les appuyer autrement que par des lettres, qui risquaient de rester sans réponse, ou par des missions confiées à un Monaldesco ou à un Santinelli. Christine résolut de se rendre elle-même en France. Après tout, elle perdait son temps à Pesaro et, malgré les assurances de Santinelli, — qui était revenu lui dire qu'à Rome tout le monde l'attendait avec impatience, que le palais Farnèse était prêt à la recevoir, qu'il ne lui fallait que 4,000 écus pour son voyage et son installation, assurances aussi fausses les unes que les autres, — elle comprenait bien qu'elle ferait mieux de retarder encore son arrivée. Elle emploierait les mois d'été à vaincre les hésitations de Mazarin et en même temps elle tâcherait de négocier une alliance entre la France et la Suède, et d'obtenir pour celle-ci des subsides que le roi de Suède lui céderait ensuite en échange des revenus de ses domaines; finalement, elle demanderait le payement de ce qui lui restait dû encore des fameux 900,000 écus. Tout cela valait bien un nouveau déplacement.

Les lettres de Mazarin ne l'encourageaient cependant pas, — bien au contraire. Il lui déconseillait même formellement de venir en France, sous prétexte que cela pourrait nuire à l'entreprise de Naples en laissant deviner leurs plans. Il désirait un retard, et même après que Christine se fut déjà mise en route, il écrivit pour la supplier de rester dans les États pontificaux. Il affectait toujours d'attacher un grand prix à obtenir par Christine l'assistance du pape, ce qui démontre bien le peu de confiance qu'il avait dans l'affaire, puisqu'il connaissait mieux que personne l'impossibilité de faire sortir le Saint-Siège de sa neutralité.

Mais le cardinal perdait sa peine en écrivant. La résolution de la Reine était prise, et le départ fut décidé. Christine en avertit Azzolino par la lettre suivante, dont le ton plutôt cérémonieux contraste avec celles que nous verrons plus loin et semble indiquer qu'elle a été écrite pour pouvoir être montrée: ...

Les deux dames Rangoni et Orsini furent congédiées et remplacées par de simples femmes de chambre (Une de ces femmes se nommait Portia Passaglia Giustiniani. Deux de ses sœurs, Ottavia et Francesca, entrèrent aussi au service de la Reine. Francesca y mourut encore jeune. Ottavia et Portia restèrent auprès de Christine jusqu'à sa mort. Ottavia est peut-être entrée chez Christine en même temps que Portia, mais celle-ci seule se trouve par hasard nommée dans les documents de 1657.). — François Maria Santinelli fut chargé des intérêts de la Reine à Rome. Il reçut 6,000 écus sur les 15,000 envoyés de France, avec charge d'en employer immédiatement 2,200 pour retirer les diamants engagés l'année précédente par la Reine au marquis Palombara quelque temps avant son départ. Les diamants devaient être remis au cardinal Azzolino et le restant de l'argent employé à mettre en ordre le palais Farnèse, où la Reine annonçait son retour pour le mois d'octobre. — Le reste de la cour suivait Christine qui quitta Pesaro le 22 juin 1657 et se rendit d'abord à Arcione, près de Rimini, pour purger la quarantaine imposée à ceux qui quittaient le territoire pontifical.

Ouvrons ici une parenthèse. C'est à Pesaro que doit avoir pris racine, sinon naissance, l'inimité de Monaldesco et de François Santinelli. Mais cette inimité n'a certainement pas été causée, comme on l'a prétendu, par une jalousie d'amants. Lascaris, qui renseigne Azzolino sur tous les menus détails de la vie de Christine, n'aurait pas manqué de l'avertir, s'il avait eu le moindre soupçon que quelqu'un pût disputer à son ami la place qu'il occupait dans le cœur de la Reine. Il ne fait cependant aucune allusion au moindre faible amoureux de Christine pour Monaldesco ou pour Santinelli. Au contraire, «la Reine n'aime personne en ce monde, excepté ses caprices, lesquels elle ne peut réaliser par manque de forces», écrit il (Lettre du 11 juin 1657. Le caprice auquel il fait allusion ici est le voyage de Rome.). Pour Santinelli, il n'a que les paroles les plus sévères. C'est un menteur, un vantard, un coquin, un infâme; il est plein de fourberie et de vanité; il fait le plus grand tort à la Reine; il pousse la rouerie jusqu'à simuler une attaque contre sa propre vie pour faire croire que ses ennemis veulent l'assassiner; sa présence à la Cour est une honte, etc., etc. Mais de voir en lui un amant de la Reine, cela ne passe pas même par la tête de cet observateur minutieux et clairvoyant. Il en est de même pour Monaldesco dont, au reste, il dit fort peu de chose. Quand il parle de la mauvaise compagnie dont la Reine est entourée, il fait une exception, une seule, pour le comte Thiene, mais il ne nomme jamais Monaldesco dans un sens de blâme spécial. C'est sur Santinelli que retombe son aversion, — sentiment qui fut bientôt justifié par les événements.

Swedish translation (my own; I cannot tag it as such due to character limits in the tags):

Kristina hade snabbt övergivit tanken på att resa så långt som till Sverige. Visserligen skulle hennes närvaro där ha varit värdelös, eftersom konungen inte kunde vara frånvarande från krigsteatern i Polen, och Kristinas planer för ordnandet av hennes angelägenheter kunde inte förverkligas utan honom. Hon beslutade sig därför för att återvända till Italien och lämnade Compiègne den 23 september. Dagen innan hade hon erhållit för Monaldesco utnämningen av fältmarskalk i de franska trupperna då i Italien under order av hertig Francesco I av Modena. Denna ynnest var kopplad till en plan som verkar ha grott i hennes hjärna under hennes första resa till Frankrike: erövringen av Neapel av franska trupper, förenade med hertigen av Modena. Kristina, alldeles nyligen skyddsling och vän till Filip IV, drömde nu om att sätta sig i spetsen för en fransk armé för att frånta honom konungariket Neapel!

Det var på Compiègne som hon hade öppnat upp för Mazarin om sina planer. Hon bad Frankrike hjälpa henne att bli drottning av Neapel och lovade för sin del att ta en son av Frankrike som sin efterträdare. Mazarins svar hade inte varit särskilt tydligt, för medan drottningen senare talade om »fördraget som hon slöt i Compiègne«, begränsade kardinalen sig till att kalla detta arrangemang »fördraget hon hade föreslagit.« Uppenbarligen ville han inte absolut avskräcka ett företag som alltid kunde bli ett ytterligare bekymmer och fara för Spanien, men han ville inte heller binda sig till en stor kostnad, och Kristina behövde mycket pengar. Hon hade redan gjort klart att hon hade för avsikt att driva in de skulder som Sverige begärt av Frankrike på subventionerna för trettioåriga kriget, och hon uppskattade inte denna summa till mindre än 900,000 écus. — Mazarin försökte övertala Kristina att hon måste börja med att agera med påven för att vinna honom till företaget, och han släppte henne med vaga löften om hjälp, vars uppfyllande hon snart skulle kräva.

Där förstörde en fråga om etikett nästan firandet. Hertiginnamodern, Christine av Frankrike, krävde att Kristina av Sverige skulle ge upp rätten till henne när hon kom för att besöka henne. Den senare vägrade för sin del absolut. Saken ordnades slutligen på ett sådant sätt att drottningen skulle låtsas vara sjuk och ta emot hertiginnan i sängen. Detta är bara ett exempel på de många berättelser om etikett som finns i överflöd i drottningens liv. I ett sekel där dyrkan av form och formalitet drevs till det yttersta, där människor drog sina svärd för en plats vid bordet, där man bråkade om den stolsrygg som en besökare erbjöd, var Kristina en av de mest krävande i frågor om företräde och allt som rör officiell koreografi.

Under sin vistelse i Turin tog hon emot ett sändebud från hertigen av Modena, greve Ronchi, och skickade Monaldesco till honom för att diskutera planerna för Neapel. Dessa förblev dock vaga och Kristina beslöt att skicka Monaldesco till Paris för att få löften och exakta order från Mazarin. Under tiden begav hon sig via Mantua till Pesaro, där hon tänkte tillbringa vintern. Pesten hindrade henne fortfarande från att återvända till Rom, och hon valde då denna trevliga lilla stad i Markerna till sin bostad, kanske på inrådan av bröderna Santinelli, som ursprungligen var därifrån, kanske också på det av kardinal Azzolino, som hade en pålitlig vän där i person av kardinallegaten Omodei och en förtrogen hos vicelegaten monsignor Gasparo Lascaris.

Den 19 november bosatte sig Kristina i det apostoliska palatset i Pesaro, och därifrån reste Monaldesco via Schweiz till Paris, varifrån han skulle återföra planen för Neapelkampanjen och framförallt något framsteg på de 900,000 écus som Kristina ansåg vara vara skyldig henne. Drottningen var i stort behov av det, och det var bristen på pengar lika mycket som rädslan för pesten som fick henne att stanna vid Pesaro trots hennes starka önskan att se Rom och Azzolino igen.

Korrespondensen med kardinalen hade pågått under hela resan, och frånvaron hade inte förändrat drottningens känslor på något sätt. Hon kunde inte tala om Azzolino utan att visa sin sympati för honom, och det gick inte en dag utan att hon talade om honom. I Pesaro fortsatte brevväxlingen naturligtvis, men endast två av dem har bevarats åt oss; de är inte av intim karaktär.

Flera brev från vicelegaten monsignor Lascaris informerar oss dock om deras relationer och om vad som hände runt Kristina. Kardinalens brev var efterlängtade och läste med nöje. De dikter han ibland skickade förtjusade drottningen. Men de råd han gav lyssnades inte alltid på.

Azzolino var framför allt en man av ordning och reda, precis motsatsen till Kristina och hennes följe. Han lät Lascaris råda henne att leva så blygsamt som möjligt under hennes reträtt, för att till exempel avskeda hennes vakter. Men Santinelli var inte intresserad av ekonomi.

»Bättre att vara utan bröd än utan vakter«, svarade han den häpne Lascaris, och han hade inga svårigheter att få Kristina att acceptera detta sätt att se på saker och ting, som bara stämde överens med hans egna idéer.

Monaldesco var hovets främsta personage och hävdade, som överstallmästare, titeln Excellens. Francesco Santinelli, överkammarherre, delade med honom förvaltningen av hushållet. Alltid den gamla historien om vargen i fårhuset! — Två par hade lagts till i personalen: greve Rangoni med sin fru, donna Barbara, och paret Vicino Orsini. Grevarna Caccherano och Tassoni och kavaljeren Ferretti hade tagits emot som kammarherrar.

Några vakter hade rekryterats från den äventyrliga ungdomen i Pesaro, Padua, Ferrara och Bologna och ställdes under befäl av lägermästaren Tenderini, en lågt rankad kondottiär som tog titeln kapten för Hennes Majestäts »schweizer«garde. Santinelli skulle också värva fyra pager; men eftersom dessa måste tituleras eller riddare av Malta, var de svårare att hitta än de schweiziska.

De två damerna var inte precis skönheter. Donna Barbara Rangoni närmade sig femtio, var kort, fyllig, med hår »mer dött än levande och en svart tand bland de andra«; hon hade aldrig varit vacker, »men galant och stolt«. Hon hade kvickhet, klädd i fransk stil och drömde om storhet. — Madama Orsini var några år äldre och målade sig så vit och röd »att hon såg ut som en av de där gamla standarderna som landgraven i Hessen, nu kardinal, hade.« Hon hade knappt några tänder kvar, men å andra sidan erkände hon och tog nattvarden flera gånger i veckan. — Dessa två damer fick vardera sjuttio écus i månaden och kallade sig Excellenser. — Sådana är porträtten som Lascaris skickade till Azzolino.

Den älskvärde vicelegaten ogillade inte att skämta alls. Han drev till och med ibland över de gränser som är lämpliga för korrespondens mellan Kyrkans dignitärer. Såhär beskriver han ett besök hos drottningen:

»Hennes Majestät är vackrare och mer devota än någonsin. Igår satte hon på sig en svart sammetsklänning, all kantad med blåa band med en mycket stilig manskrage. Det räckte för att göra en galen [av åtrå], särskilt när hon tog från bordet en viss fransk komedi och började läsa den för mig i levande ljus. Hon läste rollen av Diana förälskad i Endymion och läste den så bra att jag flera gånger var på väg att säga till henne: Madama, även om de kallar mig lasca, tror jag att jag i sanning liknar mer cefalo

Kristina betygade ofta sin otålighet att återvända till Rom, men pesten rasade fortfarande och det saknades alltid pengar. Hon var dock inte uttråkad i Pesaro. Hon gav baler och komedier på Apostoliska palatset, organiserade landsbygdsfester och försummade samtidigt inte sin själs frälsning. Vi finner henne faktiskt närvara vid alla stora ceremonier i Kyrkan, besöka kloster, intressera sig för nunnornas sång och lägga grundstenen till ett kapucinerkloster. Dessa yrken, omväxlande världsliga och religiösa, tillfredsställde dock inte hennes rastlösa och aktiva sinne. Hennes fantasi förde sig, med den mobilitet som ägde rum för neurotiker, från ett ämne till ett annat. Ibland drömde hon om att se Rom och Azzolino igen, ibland såg hon sig själv i spetsen för en fransk armé landa vid Fondi för att marschera mot Neapel, eller invadera Abruzzerna vid hertigen av Modenas sida. Idén om erövringen av Neapel var ständigt i hennes sinne, trots den kyla som Frankrikes hov visade mot företaget.

Santinelli hade skickats till Paris, kort efter drottningens ankomst till Pesaro, för att påskynda Monaldeschi-förhandlingarna. De återvände omkring mitten av februari med femton tusen écus i guld louis, men också med svaret att Mazarin, även om den i princip var gynnsam för företaget, ville skjuta upp det till en mer gynnsam tid. Summan var inte avsevärd för Kristina, som hade räknat med att få trehundratusen eller åtminstone hundratusen écus, särskilt om hon skulle förbereda sig för erövringen av ett rike. Hon gjorde detta lite ironiskt tydligt för Mazarin. De femton tusen écus var ändå välkomna, och för ögonblicket fick de Kristina att åter vända blicken mot Rom.

Hon skickade dit Santinelli för att fråga om hälsotillstånden i staden och för att fråga om möjligheten till en framtida återkomst. Han skulle specifikt testa marken för att ta reda på om palatset Farnese skulle göras tillgänglig för drottningen igen och för att beräkna installationskostnaderna.

Var detta kanske en fint för att dölja hennes äventyrliga planer för Roms hov? Detta är inte osannolikt, för det var tydligt att påven, med sin gungbrädaspel mellan Frankrike och Spanien, skulle se mycket dystert på Neapelföretaget, och Kristina verkar inte ens ha vågat anförtro sin hemlighet till Azzolino, utan tvekan av rädsla för att han skulle ogilla hennes sätt att agera. Det är också möjligt att hon var mer än glad över att avsäga sig alla sina fantasier och återvända till Rom för att njuta av sin väns tillgivenhet i fred där.

Denna sista förklaring verkar mest sannolik när man observerar den lätthet med vilken Kristina ofta avstod från projekt som hon tycktes ge kropp och själ åt. Det är just detta hon skulle göra ett år senare med expeditionen till Neapel, liksom i framtiden med Spanska Nederländernas regentskap, ligan för Venedig, valet till Polens tron osv. Hon behövde tidsfördriv för sin hjärna som dominerades av neuros. I handling är det snarare spänningen i att handla än att uppnå målet som hon söker.

Hur det än må vara, ser vi henne snart avstå från resan till Rom och ägna sig åt sina krigiska planer. Hon återupptar sin brevväxling med Mazarin och hertigen av Modena. Hon är villig att skjuta upp kuppen i Neapel, men inte att överge idén. Inte ens det är tillräckligt för henne. Hon skulle gärna vilja gifta Frankrikes konung med en prinsessa av Savojen och hertigen av Savojen med en prinsessa av Modena; hon råder Mazarin att utnyttja kejsar Ferdinand III:s nyliga död för att försöka rycka den kejserliga kronan från Huset Österrike och ge den till Bayern. Och hon avslutar med denna uppmaning:

«Må Ers Eminens komma ihåg att Ni är italienare och dessutom kardinal. Därför kommer varje fortun som drabbar er någon annanstans än Italien alltid att vara mindre än Era förtjänster. Ers Eminens förstår mig, och jag hälsar Er.»

Det var omfattande projekt, och de måste stödjas av något annat än brev, som riskerade att bli utan svar, eller av uppdrag som anförtrotts en Monaldesco eller en Santinelli. Kristina bestämde sig för att själv resa till Frankrike. Hon slösade ju bort sin tid i Pesaro, och trots Santinellis försäkringar, som hade kommit tillbaka för att berätta att alla i Rom otåligt väntade på henne, att palatset Farnese var redo att ta emot henne, att hon bara behövde 4,000 écus för sin resa och installation, försäkringar lika falska som varandra, förstod hon mycket väl att hon skulle göra bättre i att ytterligare skjuta upp sin ankomst.

Hon skulle använda sommarmånaderna till att övervinna Mazarins tvekan, och samtidigt skulle hon försöka förhandla fram en allians mellan Frankrike och Sverige och för de senare erhålla subventioner som Sveriges konung sedan skulle avstå till henne i utbyte mot intäkterna från sina domäner. Slutligen skulle hon kräva betalning av vad hon fortfarande var skyldig, de berömda 900,000 écus. Allt detta var väl värt ytterligare en förflyttning.

Mazarins brev uppmuntrade henne emellertid inte — tvärtom. Han avrådde henne till och med formellt från att komma till Frankrike, under förevändning att det kunde skada Neapels företag genom att avslöja deras planer. Han önskade en försening, och även efter att Kristina redan hade givit sig av, skrev han och bad henne att stanna kvar i de Påvliga Staterna. Han föregav fortfarande att lägga stor vikt vid att få påvens hjälp genom Kristina, vilket tydligt visar det lilla förtroende han hade i frågan, eftersom han bättre än någon annan visste omöjligheten i att få Heliga Stolen att överge sin neutralitet.

Men kardinalen slösade bort sin tid på att skriva. Drottningens resolution fattades, och hennes avresa beslutades. Kristina informerade Azzolino om detta i följande brev, vars ganska ceremoniella ton står i kontrast till dem vi kommer att se senare och tycks antyda att det skrevs för att kunna visas: ...

De två damerna Rangoni och Orsini avskedades och ersattes av enkla kammarjungfrur (En av dessa kvinnor hette Porzia Passaglia Giustiniani. Två av hennes systrar, Ottavia och Francesca, trädde också i drottningens tjänst. Francesca dog där medan hon fortfarande var ung. Ottavia och Porzia stannade hos Kristina till hennes död. Ottavia kan ha kommit in i Kristinas hushåll samtidigt som Porzia, men endast den senare återfinns av en slump namngiven i dokumenten från 1657.). —

Francesco Maria Santinelli anförtroddes drottningens intressen i Rom. Han mottog 6,000 écus av de 15,000 som skickats från Frankrike, med i uppdrag att omedelbart använda 2,200 av dem för att ta bort de diamanter som drottningen pantsatt föregående år till markis Palombara någon tid före hennes avresa. Diamanterna skulle överlämnas till kardinal Azzolino och de återstående pengarna skulle användas för att städa upp palatset Farnese, där drottningen tillkännagav sin återkomst för oktober månad. —

Resten av hovet följde Kristina, som lämnade Pesaro den 22 juni 1657 och först reste till Arcione, nära Rimini, för att avtjäna den karantän som ålagts dem som lämnade påvligt territorium.

Låt oss öppna en parentes här. Det var i Pesaro som fiendskapet mellan Monaldesco och Francesco Santinelli måste ha slagit rot, om inte fötts. Men detta fiendskap orsakades sannerligen inte, som det har påståtts, av svartsjuka mellan älskare. Lascaris, som informerar Azzolino om alla små detaljer i Kristinas liv, skulle inte ha underlåtit att varna honom om han hade den minsta misstanke om att någon kunde bestrida med hans vän den plats han intog i drottningens hjärta.

Han gör dock ingen anspelning på Kristinas minsta förälskelse i Monaldesco eller Santinelli. Tvärtom, »drottningen älskar ingen i denna värld, utom sina nycker, som hon inte kan förverkliga på grund av bristande styrka«, skriver han (Brev av den 11 juni 1657. Den nyck han hänvisar till här är resan till Rom.).

För Santinelli har han bara de hårdaste orden. Han är en lögnare, en skrytare, en skurk; han är full av bedrägeri och fåfänga. Han gör drottningen den största skadan; han går så långt som att låtsas angripa sitt eget liv för att få henne att tro att hans fiender vill mörda honom; hans närvaro vid hovet är en skam osv., osv.

Men att i honom se en älskare till drottningen faller inte ens denne noggranne och klarsynte observatör sig. Detsamma gäller Monaldesco, om vilken han dessutom säger mycket lite. När han talar om det dåliga sällskap som drottningen är omgiven av gör han ett undantag, bara ett, för greve Thiene, men han namnger aldrig Monaldesco i en särskild klandring. Det är på Santinelli som hans motvilja faller — en känsla som snart rättfärdigades av händelserna.

English translation (my own; I cannot tag it as such due to character limits in the tags):

Kristina had quickly abandoned the idea of going as far as Sweden. Indeed, her presence there would have been useless, as the King could not be absent from the theatre of war in Poland, and Kristina's plans for the arrangement of her affairs could not be realised without him. She therefore resolved to return to Italy and left Compiègne on September 23. The day before, she had obtained for Monaldesco the appointment of field marshal in the French troops then in Italy under the orders of Duke Francesco I of Modena. This favour was linked to a plan that seems to have germinated in her brain during her first journey to France: the conquest of Naples by French troops, united with those of the Duke of Modena. Kristina, very recently the protégée and friend of Philip IV, now dreamed of putting herself at the head of a French army to wrest the Kingdom of Naples from him!

It was at Compiègne that she had opened up to Mazarin about her plans. She asked France to help her become Queen of Naples and, for her part, promised to take a son of France as her successor. Mazarin's response had not been very clear, for while the Queen later spoke of the "treaty she made at Compiègne", the Cardinal limited himself to calling this arrangement "the treaty she had proposed." Obviously he did not want to absolutely discourage an enterprise that could always become an additional worry and danger for Spain, but he did not want to commit himself to a large expense either, and Kristina needed a lot of money. She had already made it clear that she intended to collect the arrears claimed by Sweden from France on the subsidies for the Thirty Years' War, and she did not estimate this sum at less than 900,000 écus. — Mazarin tried to persuade Kristina that she must begin by acting with the Pope to win him over to the enterprise, and he let her go with vague promises of assistance, the fulfillment of which she would soon demand.

Kristina stopped at Senlis to visit Ninon de Lenclos. What a curious meeting that was between these two women! Kristina left no notes on the subject, and it is only through the letters of the beautiful Ninon that we know that the conversation turned to love. It would have been difficult for them not to talk about it! — Continuing her journey, she headed for Chambéry, passed Mont Cenis on October 13 and arrived on the 16th in Turin, where she was magnificently received by the court of Savoy.

There, a question of etiquette nearly spoiled the celebrations. The Duchess Mother, Christine of France, demanded that Kristina of Sweden give up the right to her when she came to visit her. The latter, for her part, absolutely refused. The matter was finally arranged in such a way that the Queen would feign illness and receive the Duchess in bed. This is just one example of the many stories of etiquette that abound in the Queen's life. In a century where the worship of form and formality was pushed to the extreme, where people drew their swords for a place at the table, where people quarreled over the back of the chair offered to a visitor, Kristina was one of the most demanding in matters of precedence and everything related to official choreography.

During her stay in Turin, she received an envoy from the Duke of Modena, Count Ronchi, and sent Monaldesco to him to discuss the plans for Naples. These, however, remained vague, and Kristina decided to send Monaldesco to Paris to obtain promises and precise orders from Mazarin. In the meantime, she headed via Mantua to Pesaro, where she intended to spend the winter. The plague still prevented her from returning to Rome, and she then chose this pleasant little town in the Marches as her residence, perhaps on the advice of the Santinellis, who were originally from there, perhaps also on that of Cardinal Azzolino, who had a reliable friend there in the person of the Cardinal Legate Omodei and a confidant in that of the Vice-Legate Monsignor Gasparo Lascaris.

On November 19, Kristina settled in the Apostolic Palace of Pesaro, and from there Monaldesco left via Switzerland for Paris, from where he was to bring back the plan of the campaign of Naples and, above all, some advance on the 900,000 écus that Kristina considered to be owed to her. The Queen was in great need of it, and it was the lack of money as much as the fear of the plague that made her stop at Pesaro despite her strong desire to see Rome and Azzolino again.

The correspondence with the Cardinal had lasted throughout the journey, and the absence had not changed the Queen's feelings in any way. She could not speak of Azzolino without showing her sympathy for him, and not a day passed without her speaking of him. At Pesaro the exchange of letters naturally continued, but only two of them have been preserved for us; they are not of an intimate character.

Several letters from the vice-legate Monsignor Lascaris, however, inform us of their relations and of what was happening around Kristina. The Cardinal's letters were eagerly awaited and read with pleasure. The poems he sometimes sent enchanted the Queen. But the advice he gave was not always listened to.

Azzolino was, above all, a man of order and economy, just the opposite of Kristina and her entourage. He had Lascaris advise her to live as modestly as possible during her retreat, to dismiss her guards, for example. But Santinelli was not interested in economy.

"Better to be without bread than without guards", he replied to the astonished Lascaris, and he had no difficulty in making Kristina accept this way of seeing things, which was only too in keeping with his own ideas.

Monaldesco was the principal personage of the court and claimed, as grand equerry, the title of Excellency. Francesco Santinelli, grand chamberlain, shared with him the administration of the household. Always the old story of the wolf in the sheepfold! — Two couples had been added to the staff: Count Rangoni with his wife, Donna Barbara, and the Vicino Orsini couple. Counts Caccherano and Tassoni and the cavalier Ferretti had been received as chamberlains.

Some guards had been recruited from the adventurous youth of Pesaro, Padua, Ferrara and Bologna and placed under the command of the campmaster Tenderini, a low-ranking condottiere who took the title of captain of Her Majesty's "Swiss" guard. Santinelli was also to enlist four pages; but as these had to be titled or knights of Malta, they were more difficult to find than the Swiss ones.

The two ladies were not exactly beauties. Donna Barbara Rangoni was approaching fifty, was short, plump, with hair "more dead than alive and a black tooth among the others"; she had never been beautiful, "but gallant and proud." She had wit, dressed in the French style, and dreamed of grandeur. — Madama Orsini was a few years older and painted herself so white and red "that she looked like one of those old standards that the Landgrave of Hesse, now a cardinal, had." She had hardly any teeth left, but on the other hand, she confessed and took Communion several times a week. — These two ladies each received seventy écus a month and called themselves Excellencies. — Such are the portraits that Lascaris sent to Azzolino.

The amiable vice-legate did not dislike joking at all. He even sometimes pushed it beyond the limits appropriate to correspondence between dignitaries of the Church. Here is how he describes a visit to the Queen:

"Her Majesty is more beautiful and more devota than ever. Yesterday she put on a black velvet dress all trimmed with blue ribbons with a very handsome man's collar. It was enough to drive one mad [with desire], especially when, taking from the table a certain French comedy, she began to read it to me by candlelight. She read the part of Diana in love with Endymion and read it so well that several times I was on the point of saying to her: 'Madama, although they call me lasca, I believe that in truth, I resemble more the cefalo.'"

Kristina often testified to her impatience to return to Rome, but the plague was still raging and money was always lacking. She was not bored in Pesaro, however. She gave balls and comedies at the Apostolic Palace, organised country parties, and at the same time did not neglect the salvation of her soul. We find her, in fact, attending all the great ceremonies of the Church, visiting monasteries, taking an interest in the singing of the nuns, and laying the foundation stone of a Capuchin convent. These occupations, alternately worldly and religious, did not, however, satisfy her restless and active mind. Her imagination carried itself, with the mobility proper to neurotics, from one subject to another. Sometimes she dreamed of seeing Rome and Azzolino again, sometimes she saw herself at the head of a French army landing at Fondi to march on Naples, or invading the Abruzzi at the side of the Duke of Modena. The idea of the conquest of Naples was constantly on her mind, despite the coldness shown by the court of France towards the enterprise.

Santinelli had been sent to Paris, shortly after the Queen's arrival at Pesaro, to speed up the Monaldeschi negotiations. They returned around mid-February with fifteen thousand écus in gold louis, but also with the reply that Mazarin, although in principle favourable to the enterprise, wished to postpone it until a more propitious time. The sum was not considerable for Kristina, who had expected to receive three hundred thousand or at least one hundred thousand écus, especially if she had to prepare for the conquest of a kingdom. She made this somewhat ironically clear to Mazarin. The fifteen thousand écus were nevertheless welcome, and for the moment they made Kristina turn her eyes again towards Rome.

She sent Santinelli there to inquire about the health conditions in the city and to inquire about the possibility of a future return. He was to specifically test the ground to find out whether the Palazzo Farnese would be made available to the Queen again and to calculate the installation costs.

Was this perhaps a feint to hide her adventurous plans from the court of Rome? This is not improbable, for it was clear that the Pope, with his seesaw between France and Spain, would take a very dim view of the Naples enterprise, and Kristina does not even seem to have dared to confide her secret to Azzolino, doubtless fearing that he would disapprove of her manner of acting. It is also possible that she was only too happy to renounce all her fantasies and return to Rome to enjoy her friend's affection in peace there.

This last explanation seems the most likely when one observes the facility with which Kristina often renounced projects to which she seemed to give body and soul. This is precisely what she would do a year later with the expedition of Naples, as in the future with the regency of the Spanish Netherlands, the league for Venice, the election to the throne of Poland, etc. She needed pastimes for her brain dominated by neurosis. In action, it is rather the excitement of acting than the obtaining of the goal that she seeks.

However that may be, we soon see her renounce the journey to Rome and devote herself to her bellicose plans. She resumes her correspondence with Mazarin and the Duke of Modena. She is willing to postpone the coup de main on Naples, but not to abandon the idea. Even that is not enough for her. She would like to marry the King of France to a Princess of Savoy and the Duke of Savoy to a Princess of Modena; she advises Mazarin to take advantage of the recent death of Emperor Ferdinand III to try to wrest the imperial crown from the House of Austria and give it to Bavaria. And she ends with this exhortation:

"May Your Eminence remember that you are an Italian and, moreover, a cardinal. Therefore, any fortune that befalls you anywhere other than Italy will always be less than your merit. Your Eminence understands me, and I greet you."

These were vast projects, and they had to be supported by something other than letters, which risked remaining without replies, or by missions entrusted to a Monaldesco or a Santinelli. Kristina resolved to go to France herself. After all, she was wasting her time in Pesaro and, despite the assurances of Santinelli, who had come back to tell her that everyone in Rome was impatiently awaiting her, that the Palazzo Farnese was ready to receive her, that she only needed 4,000 écus for her journey and installation, assurances as false as each other, she understood well that she would do better to delay her arrival still further.

She would employ the summer months in overcoming Mazarin's hesitations, and at the same time she would try to negotiate an alliance between France and Sweden and to obtain for the latter subsidies which the King of Sweden would then cede to her in exchange for the revenues from his domains. Finally, she would demand payment of what was still owed to her of the famous 900,000 écus. All this was well worth another displacement.

Mazarin's letters, however, did not encourage her — quite the contrary. He even formally advised her against coming to France, on the pretext that it might harm the Naples enterprise by giving away their plans. He desired a delay, and even after Kristina had already set out, he wrote to beg her to remain in the Pontifical States. He still affected to attach great importance to obtaining the Pope's assistance through Kristina, which clearly demonstrates the little confidence he had in the matter, as he knew better than anyone the impossibility of making the Holy See abandon its neutrality.

But the Cardinal was wasting his time in writing. The Queen's resolution was taken, and her departure was decided. Kristina informed Azzolino of this in the following letter, whose rather ceremonious tone contrasts with those we will see later and seems to indicate that it was written to be able to be shown: ...

The two ladies Rangoni and Orsini were dismissed and replaced by simple chambermaids (One of these women was named Porzia Passaglia Giustiniani. Two of her sisters, Ottavia and Francesca, also entered the Queen's service. Francesca died there while still young. Ottavia and Porzia remained with Kristina until her death. Ottavia may have entered Kristina's household at the same time as Porzia, but only the latter is found by chance named in the documents of 1657.). —

Francesco Maria Santinelli was entrusted with the Queen's interests in Rome. He received 6,000 écus out of the 15,000 sent from France, with the charge of immediately using 2,200 of them to remove the diamonds pledged the previous year by the Queen to the Marquis Palombara some time before her departure. The diamonds were to be handed over to Cardinal Azzolino and the remaining money used to tidy up the Palazzo Farnese, where the Queen announced her return for the month of October. —

The rest of the court followed Kristina, who left Pesaro on June 22, 1657, and went first to Arcione, near Rimini, to serve the quarantine imposed on those leaving papal territory.

Let us open a parenthesis here. It was in Pesaro that the enmity between Monaldesco and Francesco Santinelli must have taken root, if not been born. But this enmity was certainly not caused, as has been claimed, by jealousy between lovers. Lascaris, who informs Azzolino about all the minute details of Kristina's life, would not have failed to warn him if he had the slightest suspicion that someone could dispute with his friend the place he occupied in the Queen's heart.

However, he makes no allusion to Kristina's slightest infatuation with Monaldesco or Santinelli. On the contrary, "the Queen loves no one in this world, except her caprices, which she cannot realise due to lack of strength", he writes (Letter of June 11, 1657. The caprice to which he refers here is the journey to Rome.).

For Santinelli, he has only the harshest words. He is a liar, a boaster, a scoundrel, a villain; he is full of deceit and vanity. He does the greatest harm to the Queen; he goes so far as to feign an attack on his own life to make her believe that his enemies want to assassinate him; his presence at Court is a disgrace, etc., etc.

But to see in him a lover of the Queen does not even cross the mind of this minutious and clear-sighted observer. It is the same for Monaldesco, of whom, moreover, he says very little. When he speaks of the bad company with which the Queen is surrounded, he makes an exception, just one, for Count Thiene, but he never names Monaldesco in a sense of special blame. It is on Santinelli that his aversion falls, — a feeling which was soon justified by events.


Above: Kristina.


Above: Cardinal Decio Azzolino.


Above: Baron Carl Bildt.

Notes: Devota = Bildt's comment: "Jeu de mots. Devota, en italien, signifie dévote et dévouée." — "Wordplay. Devota, in Italian, means devout and devoted." — »Ordlek. Devota på italienska betyder andäktig och hängiven.«

Lasca; cefalo = Bildt's comment: «Jeu de mots obscène. Lasca et cefalo sont deux noms de poissons, mais le dernier sert aussi à représenter la virilité.» — "Obscene wordplay. Lasca and cefalo are both names of fish, but the latter is also used to represent virility." — »Obscent ordlek. Lasca och cefalo är båda namn på fisk, men det senare används också för att representera virilitet.«

Baron Carl Bildt on Kristina's travels from 1654 to 1658, part 5

Source:

Christine de Suède et le cardinal Azzolino: Lettres inédites (1666-1668), pages 52 to 54, by Baron Carl Bildt, 1899


Kristina's letter of December 20/30 (New Style), 1656 to Azzolino about her/his/their impressions of the French court is here:


The account:

Telle était la situation de Christine à Rome, lorsqu'une circonstance imprévue vint la forcer à s'éloigner. La peste, qui sévissait à Naples, avait commencé à inspirer, dès le mois d'avril, de sérieuses préoccupations à Rome. Christine résista quelque temps à la panique; mais, comme la saison s'avançait, et qu'avec elle la crainte de la contagion augmentait, elle décida de partir et de profiter de son déplacement pour aller mettre ordre à ses affaires dans le Nord. Elle fit donc annoncer son prochain départ et en même temps connaître l'itinéraire qu'elle comptait suivre: les frontières d'Allemagne lui étant fermées par les quarantaines, c'était par la France et la Flandre qu'elle passerait. Le choix de cette voie semble aussi avoir été déterminé par l'espoir qu'elle nourrissait en secret d'obtenir de la Cour de France quelque règlement des prétentions de la Suède, qu'elle considérait comme siennes. En notifiant son voyage à Mazarin elle annonça simplement qu'elle passerait par la France pour aller trouver le roi de Suède. Elle demanda que son voyage, qu'elle désirait ne pas voir retardé d'un seul jour, pût se faire sans aucune cérémonie, et déclara ne pas avoir l'intention de passer par Paris. Elle exprima cependant en même temps le désir de se rencontrer avec le cardinal. — Il ne faut pas prendre trop au sérieux ce désir d'échapper aux cérémonies, car elle se prêta, dès son arrivée, de fort bonne grâce à toutes celles dont la Cour de France crut devoir l'entourer.

Ce ne fut pas sans difficulté que Christine réunit les fonds nécessaires pour le voyage. Les remises reçues de Suède ne suffisaient pas, et la vente de ses chevaux et de ses carrosses ne produisit que quelques milliers d'écus, qui durent d'ailleurs passer par les mains de Monaldesco et de Santinelli. Le pape lui fit généreusement cadeau de 10,000 écus, mais elle dut encore emprunter environ 12,000 écus sur ses diamants. Le pape lui prêta en outre quatre galères pour la porter à Marseille, et enfin, dans la soirée du 19 juin, elle put s'embarquer à Palo. Ses adieux à Rome furent tristes. Elle partit en pleurant à chaudes larmes, et l'on avait déjà remarqué que, les derniers jours, elle tirait constamment de sa poche un portrait qu'on devinait être celui d'Azzolino.

Sa suite était presque exclusivement italienne. Elle avait avec elle Monaldesco, promu grand écuyer à la place de della Cueva; F. M. Santinelli nommé grand chambellan; son frère L. Santinelli et le comte Annibale Thiene, gentilshommes de la Chambre; le père Malines; le capitaine Francesco Landini, en qualité de maréchal des logis; un converti suédois, Guillaume Davisson, qui lui servait de secrétaire, trois femmes de chambre, quelques officiers italiens et des domestiques de différentes nationalités, en tout environ soixante personnes. Elle débarqua le 29 août à Marseille, où son arrivée faillit provoquer une émeute par crainte de la contagion, traversa la France, où elle fut partout reçue avec les plus grands honneurs, et fit son entrée solennelle à Paris, le 8 septembre 1656. De Paris elle se rendit, après quelques jours, à Compiègne, où se trouvait la cour, et ce fut là qu'elle vit pour la première fois le jeune Roi.

Elle a laissé sur sa visite un document assez curieux que je crois devoir insérer ici, quoiqu'il n'ait été écrit que quelque temps après son retour en Italie; c'est une lettre au cardinal Azzolino, en date de Pesaro, le 30 décembre 1656. Le lecteur remarquera avec quelle circonspection la Reine s'exprime sur les relations d'Anne d'Autriche et de Mazarin. A-t-elle entrevu la vérité, ou bien son esprit d'observation lui a-t-il fait défaut précisément sur le point qui aurait dû l'intéresser le plus? ...

Swedish translation (my own; I cannot tag it as such due to character limits in the tags):

Sådan var Kristinas situation i Rom när en oförutsedd omständighet kom för att tvinga henne att lämna. Pesten som rasade i Neapel hade redan i april börjat inspirera till allvarlig oro i Rom. Kristina stod emot paniken en tid; men allteftersom säsongen fortskred och därmed rädslan för smittan ökade, beslöt hon att ge sig av och utnyttja sin resa för att gå och ordna sina angelägenheter i Norden. Hon meddelade därför sin annalkande avgång och meddelade samtidigt den väg hon tänkte följa: Tysklands gränser stängdes för henne av karantäner, det var därför genom Frankrike och Flandern hon skulle passera. Valet av denna väg tycks också ha betingats av det hopp hon i hemlighet hyste om att från hovet i Frankrike få någon förlikning av Sveriges anspråk, som hon ansåg som sina egna.

När hon underrättade Mazarin om sin resa meddelade hon helt enkelt att hon skulle åka genom Frankrike för att gå och träffa konungen av Sverige. Hon bad att hennes resa, som hon inte ville se försenad med en enda dag, skulle göras utan någon ceremoni och förklarade att hon inte hade för avsikt att gå genom Paris. Hon uttryckte dock samtidigt önskan att träffa kardinalen. — Denna önskan att undkomma ceremonier bör inte tas alltför allvarligt, ty hon lånade sig vid sin ankomst med stor nåd till alla dem, med vilka Frankrikes hov ansåg det nödvändigt att omge henne.

Det var inte utan svårighet som Kristina samlade in de medel som var nödvändiga för resan. De remitteringar som mottogs från Sverige var inte tillräckliga, och försäljningen av hennes hästar och vagnar gav bara några tusen écus, som fick passera Monaldescos och Santinellis händer. Påven gav henne generöst 10,000 écus, men hon fick låna cirka 12,000 écus på sina diamanter. Påven lånade henne också fyra galärer för att ta henne till Marseille, och slutligen, på kvällen den 19 juni, kunde hon gå ombord på Palo. Hennes farväl i Rom var sorgligt. Hon lämnade gråtande heta tårar, och det hade redan märkts att hon under de senaste dagarna ständigt hade tagit fram ett porträtt ur fickan som man anade var det av Azzolino.

Hennes följe var nästan uteslutande italienska. Hon hade med sin Monaldesco, befordrad till överstallmästare i stället för de la Cueva; F. M. Santinelli utnämnd till överkammarherre; hans bror L. Santinelli och greve Annibale Thiene, kammarens herrar; fader Malines; kapten Francesco Landini, som kvartermästare; en svensk konvertit, Vilhelm Davisson, som tjänstgjorde som hennes sekreterare, tre kammarpigor, några italienska officerare och tjänare av olika nationaliteter, sammanlagt ett sextiotal personer.

Hon landsteg den 29 augusti i Marseille, där hennes ankomst nästan framkallade ett upplopp av rädsla för smitta, korsade Frankrike, dit hon överallt mottogs med den största ära och gjorde sitt högtidliga intåg i Paris den 8 september 1656. Från Paris gick hon, efter några dagar, till Compiègne, där hovet låg, och det var där hon såg den unge konungen för första gången.

Hon lämnade efter sig ett ganska märkligt dokument om sitt besök, som jag tror mig bör lägga in här, fastän det skrevs en tid efter hennes återkomst till Italien; det är ett brev till kardinal Azzolino, daterat Pesaro, den 30 december 1656. Läsaren kommer att notera med vilken försiktighet drottningen uttrycker sig om förhållandet mellan Anne av Österrike och Mazarin. Gjorde hon en skymt av sanningen, eller sviker hennes observationsförmåga henne just på den punkt som borde ha intresserat henne mest? ...

English translation (my own):

Such was Kristina's situation in Rome when an unforeseen circumstance came to force her to leave. The plague, which was raging in Naples, had begun to inspire, as early as April, serious concerns in Rome. Kristina resisted panic for some time; but, as the season advanced, and with it the fear of contagion increased, she decided to leave and to take advantage of her trip to go and put her affairs in the North in order. She therefore announced her approaching departure and at the same time made known the route she intended to follow: the borders of Germany being closed to her by quarantines, it was through France and Flanders that she would pass. The choice of this route also seems to have been determined by the hope she secretly entertained of obtaining from the court of France some settlement of the claims of Sweden, which she considered as her own.

In notifying Mazarin of her journey, she simply announced that she would pass through France to go and see the King of Sweden. She asked that her journey, which she did not wish to see delayed by a single day, might be made without any ceremony, and declared that she had no intention of passing through Paris. She expressed, however, at the same time the desire to meet the Cardinal. — This desire to escape ceremonies should not be taken too seriously, for she lent herself, upon her arrival, with great grace to all those with which the court of France thought it necessary to surround her.

It was not without difficulty that Kristina collected the funds necessary for the voyage. The remittances received from Sweden were not sufficient, and the sale of her horses and carriages produced only a few thousand écus, which had to pass through the hands of Monaldesco and Santinelli. The Pope generously gave her 10,000 écus, but she had to borrow about 12,000 écus on her diamonds. The Pope also lent her four galleys to take her to Marseilles, and finally, on the evening of June 19, she was able to embark at Palo. Her farewell in Rome was sad. She left crying hot tears, and it had already been noticed that, in the last days, she had constantly been taking out of her pocket a portrait which one guessed was that of Azzolino.

Her retinue was almost exclusively Italian. She had with her Monaldesco, promoted to grand equerry in place of de la Cueva; F. M. Santinelli appointed grand chamberlain; his brother L. Santinelli and Count Annibale Thiene, gentlemen of the chamber; Father Malines; Captain Francesco Landini, as quartermaster; a Swedish convert, Vilhelm Davisson, who served as her secretary, three chambermaids, some Italian officers and servants of different nationalities, in all about sixty people.

She landed on August 29 at Marseilles, where her arrival nearly provoked a riot for fear of contagion, crossed France, where she was everywhere received with the greatest honours, and made her solemn entry into Paris on September 8, 1656. From Paris she went, after a few days, to Compiègne, where the court was located, and it was there that she saw the young King for the first time.

She left behind a rather curious document about her visit, which I believe I should insert here, although it was written some time after her return to Italy; it is a letter to Cardinal Azzolino, dated Pesaro, December 30, 1656. The reader will note with what circumspection the Queen expresses herself on the relations between Anne of Austria and Mazarin. Did she glimpse the truth, or did her powers of observation fail her precisely on the point which should have interested her most? ...


Above: Kristina.


Above: Cardinal Decio Azzolino.


Above: Baron Carl Bildt.