Showing posts with label 1658 return to Rome. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1658 return to Rome. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 3, 2025

Anna Brownell Jameson's biography of Kristina, part 15

Source:

Memoirs of celebrated female sovereigns, volume 1, pages 83 to 87, by Anna Brownell Jameson, 1831; original at the University of Toronto


The biography:

She was received on her return to the Papal Court with a great display of external respect; and as she suffered continual embarrassment from the want of money and her careless habits, the Pope at length granted her a yearly allowance of 12,000 crowns, and appointed the Cardinal Azzolini to be the comptroller of her household. While Azzolini was in fact a kind of spy on all her proceedings, he contrived to insinuate himself completely into her confidence. He had a very pleasing person, bland and polished manners, a lively wit, and sufficient learning to be able to appear much more learned than he really was. These qualities imposed on Christina: although he was false, superficial, interested and avaricious, he obtained an influence over her mind, which he knew how to improve to his own advantage, and which ended only with her life.

Cardinal Azzolini managed her affairs with prudence and economy, and she was thenceforth spared a repetition of those vexations and degrading expedients which had so frequently lowered her in the eyes of the Italians. Notwithstanding the philosophical contempt she sometimes affected for all outward state, she entertained at Rome a numerous and royal train: she was sometimes reduced to the necessity of pledging her jewels, plate, medals &c., for the support of her household, merely because on public occasions she could not bear to be eclipsed in splendour by the Italian nobles, whom she affected to despise.

Although Christina accepted of the pension granted by the Pope, and had some reason to be grateful for such a seasonable mark of his beneficence, they were not therefore better friends. Alexander was weak, artificial, trifling; Christina was careless, petulant, and haughty; continual subjects of discontent arose between them, which it required all the subtle and insinuating genius of Azzolini to set right. Her journey to France, and the number of French and Spaniards entertained in her suite, had excited the jealousy of the Papal Court, and she was continually watched, and contradicted about trifles. On one occasion, she required permission for two Frenchmen of rank to view the Castle of St. Angelo, which was refused: Christina sent back the messenger with this reply: "Tell the Holy Father that I am not less the daughter of the Great Gustavus!" There was indeed a time when the very sound of that mighty name had shaken to its foundation the spiritual and temporal power of the Roman Pontiff, and made his tiara tremble on his palsied head: — that time was past; and Alexander only smiled at the impotent sarcasm from one whom he held in dependence upon his bounty. Christina had negociated a marriage between her Major Domo, Santinelli, (the same who had stabbed Monaldeschi [sic],) and the Duchess de Ceri, a noble and beautiful Roman heiress. The Pope intimated his disapproval — Christina persisted: the Pope interfering in a summary manner, shut the young duchess up in a convent, and ordered Santinelli to leave Rome. The queen then dismissed all the Italians from her train, quitted the Palazzo Mazarin, and took up her lodgings in a convent. Here she found herself under the continual espionage of the ecclesiastics. She fretted with inward impatience, but she was in a situation where remonstrance was useless, complaint degrading, and resistance dangerous. It was necessary to study a new and bitter lesson; to be quiet, and to submit. In the midst of these contentions, she maintained a certain appearance of respect and decorum, mingled several times in the public processions, and begged and received the benediction of his Holiness. As if instigated by the spirit of contradiction, she took some pains at this time to conciliate the good will of the Romans: she was liberal, magnificent, and courteous, in all her actions, and defeated the attempts to intimidate or to irritate her by the most resolute self-control.

It must be remarked as a part of Christina's character, or rather of that inconsistency which bordered on disease, that with her no mode of conduct, no tastes or inclinations, or aims, or pursuits, were permanent. Her love of literature and art, for which, it is said, she sacrificed her throne, had the appearance of a caprice taken up from time to time; and for a long period together she would devote herself to the most trifling amusements; — to the dreams of alchemy, or astrology, or to political intrigues.


Above: Kristina.


Above: Anna Brownell Jameson.

Friday, October 31, 2025

Corrado Ricci on Kristina's life in Italy, part 5

Sources:

Cristina di Svezia in Italia, article written by Corrado Ricci for Nuova antologia di scienze, lettere ed arti, volume 41 (125), pages 36 to 38, published by the Direction of Nuova antologia, 1892; original at the Bavarian State Library (Bayerische Staatsbibliothek)


Roma, visioni e figure: con 29 illustrazioni, pages 150 to 153, by Corrado Ricci, 1925; original at Cornell University


The article:

La regina fu ricevuta a Compiègne freddamente, e ciò forse la persuase a non prolungare troppo la sua dimora in Francia.

Tornò infatti a Roma nella prima metà del maggio seguente, senza menomamente preoccuparsi della grandissima e bruttissima impressione prodottavi dalla morte del Monaldeschi. Già a Francesco Santinelli nelle strade dicevano: «Ecco il fratello del boia». E costui e la regina erano omai ritenuti — lo diremo con frase moderna — capaci a delinquere, tantochè, essendo, poco più tardi, morto improvvisamente il musico Alessandro Cecconi, furono incolpati d'averlo avvelenato. Il papa, vivamente colpito dai fatti e dalle ciarle, aveva scritto a Cristina, consigliandola di nuovo ad entrare in un monastero, mentr'ella si trovava ancora a Roma, non ricevuta con la consueta solennità, ma visitata a poco a poco dal Sacro Collegio e dal papa che le mandò per giunta quattrocento fiaschi di vino prelibato.

Intanto, accorgendosi il Santinelli che a corte la sua autorità cresceva sempre, finì per eccitare la regina ad inframmettersi nelle sue brighe per isposare la duchessa di Ceri, la quale, per lui s'era sbarazzata del primo marito, mercè il valido aiuto dell'acqua tofana. Ma la duchessa fu per ordine del papa bellamente arrestata in casa, chiusa in una carrozza e portata al convento di San Silvestro.

Cristina allora si volgeva ad altre occupazioni; teneva accademie; raccoglieva libri e monete, difendeva i violenti soldati di sua guardia contro le proteste e le ire del cardinal Chigi e del governatore di Roma; per far danari vendeva i finimenti de' suoi cavalli; proteggeva il suo Santinelli sino in presenza del papa in una udienza che durò due ore.

Dopo questi avvenimenti, la regina, incalzata anche dalla questione economica, si mostrò un poco temperata. All'incontro, il Santinelli e la duchessa di Ceri non rallentarono la loro congiura amorosa, cosicchè ella fu trasferita in Castel Sant'Angelo, in alcune celle anguste; e, poco dopo, lui fu obbligato in bella maniera ad abbandonar Roma col pretesto d'un'ambascieria all'imperatore. Ma anche per gente di tale natura «amore non conosce lignaggio e vassallaggio». Nove anni dopo la duchessa di Ceri trovò modo di fuggire da Napoli a Castiglione della Pescaia ove sposò l'adorato Santinelli.

Cristina, che per un istante aveva rallentati i suoi intrighi, trovò modo di rifarsi tormentando con mille dispetti l'ambasciatore di Savoia, e cessando solo distratta da maggior cura, per la morte di Carlo Gustavo di Svezia cui succedeva il figliuoletto avuto da Edvige Eleonora d'Holstein. Adolfo Giovanni, fratello dell'estinto, aveva diritti alla reggenza. Fu allora che Cristina decise di fare un viaggio in patria e — spento appena l'incendio delle sue scuderie — dopo aver raccolti danari, con poco seguito, partì il 23 agosto. In patria fu trattata indegnamente; a lei e agli Italiani del suo seguito furono fatte scortesie d'ogni sorta, cosicchè credè bene di tornarsene a Roma. Fu distratta un poco nel suo ritorno da Gian Francesco Borri, alchimista astrologo, fuggito da Amsterdam e che allora viveva ad Amburgo. Anche Cristina doveva dunque essere attratta dalla misteriosa ciurmeria e profondervi migliaia di scudi. Si mise a cercare la pietra filosofale prima col Borri, poi con un tal Bandiera bolognese, sul quale, nei momenti di dispetto, sfogava sonoramente a schiaffi l'ira sua.

Oramai era circondata da tutti tipi comici ed equivoci, e di loro si serviva o per loro si moveva.

Basti dire che, dopo un feroce conflitto tra Francesi e Corsi, non si peritava di mandare ambasciatore in Francia il d'Alibert, specie d'impresario, sempre in angustie, fondatore del teatro a Roma e, come tale, da lei nominato suo... segretario d'ambasciata; basti infine dire che, più tardi, riannodava le relazioni con la Duchessa di Savoia in grazia del musico Giuseppe Bianchi protetto dalla regina. La Duchessa desiderava che costui restasse a Torino, e per questo appunto fra le due sovrane passarono più pratiche e più lettere, che non pel maggiore degli affari diplomatici, e saltò fuori, per una seconda volta, la faccenda dei manoscritti di Pirro Ligorio, il prestito dei quali, da parte della Duchessa, doveva valere il prestito del cantante. Ma poi la corte di Savoia temporeggiò sino a restituire il cantore senza aver prestato i manoscritti.

Nel 1666 Cristina tornando in Isvezia accoglieva al suo servizio Orazio di Borbone, una canaglia di tre cotte, che, come tutti gli avventurieri del tempo, avea solenne aspetto, facile e brillante parola.

Ad Amburgo però le giunse per lettera la notizia della morte d'Alessandro VII, a cui successe (20 giugno 1667) Giulio Rospigliosi di Pistoia col nome di Clemente IX. Il nuovo papa, con viva soddisfazione di Cristina, nominò segretario il cardinale Azzolini, favorito di lei.

English translation (my own):

The Queen was received coldly at Compiègne, and this perhaps persuaded her not to prolong her stay in France too long.

Indeed, she returned to Rome in the first half of the following May, without the slightest concern for the profound and horrific impression made there by Monaldeschi's death. Already, in the streets, people were shouting to Francesco Santinelli: "Here is the executioner's brother". And he and the Queen were now considered — we will use a modern phrase — capable of crime, so much so that, when the musician Alessandro Cecconi died suddenly shortly thereafter, they were accused of having poisoned him. The Pope, deeply shocked by the events and by the gossip, had written to Kristina, again advising her to enter a monastery, while she was still in Rome, not received with the usual solemnity, but gradually visited by the Sacred College and by the Pope, who also sent her four hundred flasks of exquisite wine.

Meanwhile, Santinelli, realising that his authority at court was constantly growing, ended up inciting the Queen to interfere in his plans to marry the Duchess of Ceri, who, for his sake, had rid herself of her first husband, thanks to the powerful aid of Acqua Tofana. But the Duchess was promptly arrested at home by order of the Pope, locked in a carriage, and taken to the convent of San Silvestro.

Kristina then turned to other occupations: she held academies; she collected books and coins; she defended the violent soldiers of her guard against the protests and the ire of Cardinal Chigi and the Governor of Rome; to raise money she sold the trappings of her horses; she protected her Santinelli even in the presence of the Pope in an audience that lasted two hours.

After these events, the Queen, also pressed by economic concerns, showed herself a bit temperate. Upon meeting Santinelli and the Duchess of Ceri, their romantic plot did not slow down, so she was transferred to Castel Sant'Angelo, to cramped cells; and, shortly thereafter, he was politely forced to leave Rome under the pretext of an embassy to the Emperor. But even for people of such nature, "love knows no lineage or vassalage". Nine years later, the Duchess of Ceri managed to escape from Naples to Castiglione della Pescaia, where she married her beloved Santinelli.

Kristina, who had temporarily slowed down her intrigues, found a way to make up for it by tormenting the ambassador of Savoy with a thousand insults, only to cease when distracted by greater cares, the death of Karl Gustav of Sweden, who was succeeded by his little son with Hedvig Eleonora of Holstein. Adolf Johan, the deceased's brother, had rights to the regency. It was then that Kristina decided to make a journey to her fatherland, and — as soon as the fire in her stables was extinguished — after gathering money, she left with a small entourage on August 23. In her fatherland, she was treated unworthily; she and the Italians in her suite were subjected to every kind of discourtesy, so she decided to return to Rome. She was somewhat distracted on her return by Gian Francesco Borri, an alchemist and astrologer who had fled Amsterdam and was then living in Hamburg. Kristina must therefore also have been drawn into the mysterious deception and lavished thousands of scudi on it. She began searching for the philosopher's stone first with Borri, then with a certain Bandiera from Bologna, upon whom, in moments of spite, she would vent her anger by slapping him hard.

By now she was surrounded by all sorts of comical and dubious characters, and she made use of them or acted for them.

Suffice it to say that, after a fierce conflict between the French and the Corsicans, she did not hesitate to send d'Alibert, a sort of impresario, always in dire straits, the founder of the theater in Rome and, as such, appointed by her as her... embassy secretary, to France. Finally, suffice it to say that, later, she renewed relations with the Duchess of Savoy through the musician Giuseppe Bianchi, a protégé of the Queen. The Duchess wished him to remain in Turin, and for this very reason more paperwork and letters passed between the two sovereigns than for any other major diplomatic matter. And, for a second time, the matter of Pirro Ligorio's manuscripts arose, the loan of which, by the Duchess, was supposed to be equivalent to the loan of the singer. But then the court of Savoy procrastinated and finally returned the singer without having lent the manuscripts.

In 1666, Kristina, returning to Sweden, welcomed into her service Orazio de Bourbon, a rascal of the highest rank who, like all adventurers of the time, had a solemn appearance and a quick, brilliant speech.

In Hamburg, in the meantime, she received a letter informing her of the death of Alexander VII, who was succeeded (on June 20, 1667) by Giulio Rospigliosi of Pistoia, who took the name Clement IX. The new Pope, to Kristina's great satisfaction, appointed Cardinal Azzolino, her favourite, as his secretary.


Above: Kristina.


Above: Corrado Ricci, painted by Ettore Tito in 1913.

Note: The Duchess of Ceri = Anna Maria Caterina Aldobrandini (1630-1703).

Saturday, August 30, 2025

Arthur Henry Hardinge's essay on Kristina, year 1880, part 9

Source:

Queen Christina of Sweden: Lothian Prize Essay for 1880, pages 61 to 62, by Arthur Henry Hardinge, 1880; original at the University of Michigan


The essay:

The Court of France, after the death of Monaldeschi, treated Christina with such marked coldness, that she resolved to leave the country. She was desirous of visiting England, for she had always admired Cromwell, whose daring military exploits had charmed her, and whose rise to power she compared to that of her own great ancestor, Gustavus Vasa. It was even said that she was scheming to secure the continuance of the new-made alliance between England and France, by inducing the Protector to put away his wife and marry one of Mazarin's nieces. However this may have been, Cromwell, though he was studiously civil to Madalschi, Christina's envoy, yet gave him to understand that it would be hardly possible for him to receive his mistress in England. He must, indeed, have felt that her intriguing nature would prompt her to mix herself up in the political affairs of the country; nor would it have been consistent for him — the head, or would-be head, of the Protestant interest in Europe — to receive at his Puritan court a princess who had abjured the Gospel, and whose strange way of life would hardly have squared with the notions of British precisians. Christina, let loose amongst the Pharisees of Whitehall, swearing like one of Rupert's troopers, jesting profanely at the expense of the "elect", and driving about London on the "Sabbath-day" with frivolous Frenchmen and Italians, would have shocked feelings which the Protector was careful not to offend; and her meeting with Cromwell, which would have formed one of the most interesting incidents in the history of that time, had, unfortunately, to be given up.

She accordingly returned to Rome, where she spent the years 1658 and 1659 in the society of her literary friends. She was, however, no longer on such good terms as formerly with the Pope. Alexander VII. had now openly embraced the side of Spain, and Christina's French sympathies, and the reports which spread about of her plotting an invasion of Naples by the armies and fleets of France and England, caused political differences between them, which were embittered by private quarrels. She accused the Pope of setting spies to watch all she did; he, on the other hand, took offence at her imperious demands, and, at her claiming for her house, and the square around it, the immunities granted to the palaces of ambassadors, which had long been a subject of complaint at Rome, as affording protection to all the ruffians in the city. Yet, in spite of all this, he continued to treat her with great generosity; he allowed her 12,000 scudi a-year, and appointed Cardinal Azzolini, a typical Italian ecclesiastic, learned, polite, and keenly observant, to be the steward of her household. Her money affairs, it appears, were in great confusion; the war raging in Pomerania prevented her from drawing her revenues from that province, and threw her more and more for support upon the Pope.

A position of dependence was, however, unbearable to her; and she had already begun to intrigue with the Austrians for the invasion and conquest of Pomerania, when the news of the death of her cousin, the King of Sweden, gave a new turn to her plans, and determined her once more to re-visit her native country.


Above: Kristina.


Above: Oliver Cromwell.


Above: Pope Alexander VII.


Above: Cardinal Decio Azzolino.

Sunday, July 27, 2025

Faith Compton Mackenzie on the execution of Monaldeschi

Source:

The Sibyl of the North: The Tale of Christina, Queen of Sweden, pages 163 to 174, by Faith Compton Mackenzie, 1931; original scan at the Universal Digital Library


Kristina's letter of November 5/15 or 7/17 (New Style), 1657 to Francesco Maria Santinelli is here:


WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE, SUFFERING AND DEATH.

The account:

CHAPTER XI
THE COAT OF MAIL
WHILE Christina was scheming for her revenue and designing her liveries, her mind was preoccupied with the certainty that in her most intimate circle a traitor was to be found. Letter signed by Francesco Santinelli had come into her hands. A French lady-in-waiting is supposed to have shown them to her, but it was always Christina's habit to examine the correspondence of her suite, especially when she had some secret project on hand. The contents of these letters were never divulged, but if written by Santinelli[,] they were damning evidence against him. However, there were other things going on for which Santinelli could not be responsible, as he was in Rome. After much probing of the matter, she sent for Monaldesco, and revealed her doubts.

"Madame", he said, "you are betrayed, and the traitor is either someone absent that you know well, or myself. It must be one or the other. Your Majesty will soon know who it is, and I beg you not to spare the culprit."

"What does a man deserve who betrays me in this way?"

"Your Majesty should execute him without mercy and at once. I offer myself to be either the executioner or the victim, because it is an act of justice."

"Good. Remember those words of yours, and believe me, I shall not pardon him."

Those were bold words of Monaldesco's, and he must have been foolishly confident in the security of his plot against Santinelli. But as the days went by and vastly important letters that he was expecting failed to reach him, he began to get uneasy. If his correspondence went astray[,] it would be a serious thing — a very serious thing. It was necessary to find another method of communication[,] more reliable. He set about this with great caution. But not enough; Christina knew that this was the time to strike. She had all these important letters of Monaldesco's in her keeping; his villainy was clearly proved.

On the 6th of November she sent for Père Lebel, Prior of the Mathurins of Fontainebleau. She received him in the Galerie des Cerfs.

"You wear a habit that encourages me to speak to you confidentially. Promise me under the seal of the Confessional that you will keep this secret that I am going to tell you."

"In these matters I am blind and dumb", he assured her.

She put a packet into his hands. It was heavily sealed and without address.

"Mark well the day, hour and place of my giving you this, and return it when I ask for it in the presence of whom I choose."

The mystified priest retired with the packet and put it in a safe place.

On the 10th of November Monaldesco was ordered to go to the Queen in the Galerie des Cerfs. She was in the habit of giving audiences there, and there was nothing unusual in the command. Yet the Marquis delayed, and, when he did appear, it was easy to see that he was greatly disturbed. He was pale and agitated, and his agitation was not lessened by the sight of Ludovico Santinelli and two others who stood beside the Queen, their hands upon their swords. She held him in ordinary conversation for a few minutes, but she had sent for the Prior, who was on his way with the packet. No sooner had he entered than the door was securely shut behind him. The Queen called him to her.

"Mon père", she said, "pray give me the packet which I put in your care, that I may read it."

Taking the packet, she contemplated it for a moment, then, opening it, she took out some letters and papers.

"Do you recognize these?" she said to Monaldesco in ringing tones.

"Madame", said Monaldesco, trembling, "those are nothing but letters in your own handwriting!"

"But what are these?" She produced from the packet the originals of the copies, crying, "Traitor! Explain these if you can."

At first Monaldesco tried to inculpate other people, but finally, realizing how much she knew, he threw himself at her feet[,] begging for pardon. As he did so, Ludovico Santinelli and his officers drew their swords. Frantic with apprehension, Monaldesco seized Christina and drew her into one corner of the gallery — then into another — all the time entreating her to hear his justification. She conceded this, and listened with patience to his feverish explanations. Then, leaning upon her ebony cane, she turned to the Prior and said:

"Mon père, I ask you to bear witness that I have not been hasty, but have given this villain more time than he deserves to justify himself — if it were possible."

She then ordered Monaldesco to surrender all the papers he carried about him. Among them were letters forged in Santinelli's hand (which was not unlike his own), one addressed to himself, and also the original drafts of these letters in his own handwriting. No one knows what was in them, but it was enough for Christina. She told the priest to prepare him for death and care for his soul; at which he joined in the supplications for Monaldesco.

"Why should I have mercy? This traitor is as bad as any criminal sent to the wheel; I have confided in him my most secret thoughts and my most important affairs, as to a faithful subject. I won't reproach him with all the favours I have showered upon him as though he were a brother; his own conscience should be his executioner."

With this she went from the gallery to a room adjoining.

Monaldesco threw himself at the feet of the Prior, asking him to plead with the Queen again for mercy. Santinelli and his officers surrounded him with drawn swords, telling him to confess quickly. His hour was near. His cries for mercy were so heartrending that Santinelli was moved to go himself to Christina and beg her to spare his life. But he came back and[,] with tears in his eyes, said:

"Make your peace with God. You must die."

Again there was a dreadful scene. The Marquis, beside himself with fear, implored the Prior to plead again with the Queen. Christina was still coldly determined, and all the tears and supplications of the priest could not move her. Then he ventured to point out that as she was the guest of the King, she should consider very carefully before she insisted upon the execution taking place. To which she replied that she was not lodged by the King as a fugitive or prisoner, that she was her own mistress, and that she was answerable to God alone for her actions. Besides, there was precedent for this act.

"Yes, queens have done such things before, but it has been in their own realms."

The Prior went on to say how hurtful it might be to the honour and reputation she had gained in France — perhaps he said enough to persuade her that it might be hurtful also to her political schemes. At the end of the interview she showed signs that if she had dared[,] she would have revoked the order. But it was too late now. Monaldesco at liberty after this would be an unthinkable danger. There was no way out.

Lebel returned to the gallery, and taking the poor wretch in his arms, told him to resign himself to death and to make his confession. Monaldesco gave a piercing shriek and flung himself at the feet of the Prior and began his confession. While it was going on[,] the door at the end of the gallery opened[,] and the Queen's Almoner appeared. Here was a friend who perhaps could save him, and[,] without waiting for absolution[,] Monaldesco hastened to the new arrival and begged him to intercede with the Queen. They stood for a while in whispered conversation, and then the Almoner went to the Queen[,] accompanied by Santinelli.

Santinelli came back alone, and said firmly:

"Marquis, make your peace with God, for you must die without delay. Have you confessed?"

He pressed him with drawn sword to the end of the gallery under the picture of St. Germain. Monaldesco's misgivings of the last few days had led him to don for his protection a heavy breast-plate of mail; this only served to prolong the dreadful agonies of his death. He was wounded in the stomach, and[,] trying to draw his own sword to parry this, three fingers were cut off his right hand. Then Santinelli, having been impeded by the coat of mail, attacked his face. At this he cried:

"Mon père!"

The Prior came to him, and on his knees he made his confession, the blood pouring down his face, begging forgiveness for his crime, pardoning his executioners, and praying that he might meet death bravely. He then fell to the ground, and Santinelli attacked his head with such violence that flesh and bone were scattered on the pavement. At this the victim turned and lay on his face, making a sign that they should put him out of his pain with a thrust at his neck. Two or three thrusts had little effect, for the coat of mail was attached to his collar, and a mortal wound was impossible. While this was going on, the Prior was exhorting him to resignation and patience, which was probably as irritating to the executioners as it was useless to the victim. Santinelli suddenly turned to the priest, exasperated and nerve-racked.

"How is this to be ended? Cannot you help?"

The priest, indignant, replied that he could not advise. He was for the life, not the death of Monaldesco.

"Forgive me, mon père. I was wrong to make such a demand."

Then the Almoner appeared again at the other end of the gallery. Monaldesco, who had lain waiting for the last thrust, seeing his friend, rose, and with his last strength, dragged himself along the wall towards him. With clasped hands he spoke in a low voice[,] and the Almoner made the sign of absolution, standing on the left of Monaldesco, beside Santinelli. No sooner had he left the gallery than Santinelli cut the throat of the Marquis, who fell, never to speak again. But he lived for another quarter of an hour. Lebel said the De Profundis, and when life was extinct Santinelli turned over the body and searched the pockets. There was nothing left in these but a book of the Hours of the Virgin and a small knife.

Santinelli and his companions went to announce the consummation of the dreadful deed to the Queen. Monaldesco had been summoned at one o'clock, and died at a quarter to four, so Christina had waited nearly three hours in that anteroom while the torture was going on. But she was calm when they told her, and said that she deeply regretted having had to execute the Marquis, but justice must be done to traitors. Lebel was commanded to remove the body at once, and because it was heavy and the way was rough and night falling, he had it carried on a hand-cart to the church of Avon near Fontainebleau. The Queen sent two footmen with a sum of money for Masses for the soul of the Marquis, and two days later he was buried with all the ceremony and devotion possible. On his tomb was simply:

"CI-GÎT MONALDESCO[.]"

No doubt, waiting there in the chamber so near to the Galerie des Cerfs that fatal afternoon, Christina was appalled by the fiasco which was being made of the execution. One swift thrust through the heart, and the traitor dead at Santinelli's feet — that was what she had visualized. Who could have foreseen the coat of mail that turned what she considered an act of justice into a prolonged and bloody torture? As the messengers came to her, each time more agitated, more urgent, she must have suffered.

The affair was being bungled; too much blood was being spilt — the pavement of Les Cerfs was drenched — and when Santinelli came to her flushed, distraught and exhausted by the ghastly scene that would not end, and then the Almoner with the tale of horror that he could scarcely tell, she was driven at last to cry:

"Cut his throat! Tell Santinelli to cut his throat!"

As he stood by Santinelli after giving the absolution, the Almoner must have whispered that message from the Queen, so swiftly did Ludovico give the finishing stroke that should have been given long ago. The dexterity of the swordsman had probably been hampered from the first by subconscious misgivings as to the legality and decency of the act, and a possibility of the Queen's changing her mind too late. It is not likely that Ludovico was vindictive enough on his brother's account to revenge himself by delaying the death-blow deliberately. He proved by his bearing throughout the scene that this was not so.

But whatever had happened and however bad it was, it had to be brazened out. It needed hardihood, but Christina was never lacking in this. The death of Monaldesco was a simple act of justice performed by a queen upon an unfaithful subject. As to where it was performed — that was of no consequence. It was necessary to act at once, and that Fontainebleau should be the scene of the execution was unfortunate but unavoidable.

She called it an execution, but the French Court called it murder. And not only murder, but a gross breach of hospitality — in the worst possible taste, in fact. Louis, who was about to visit her, postponed the journey indefinitely. Fontainebleau became out of bounds for the Court. Let Christina languish through the dull winter if she liked. They could not wish her a more dreary fate than to be in that palace at that time of year. As for the French Court, it fed very heartily for the rest of the winter on moral indignation, unaccustomed fare which kept it bright and lively through a season of brilliant diversions whose brilliance was heightened by the fact that Christina was not bidden to any of them. Mazarin protested hotly against her conduct; he sent Chanut to tell her she must hide the truth and blame her courtiers for the death of Monaldesco. In reply she said she would do anything for the King but repent of what she had done, and she knew of no one great or powerful enough to make her disavow her actions — that if she had not done what she had done, she would do it that night before she went to bed — that she had no reason to repent; on the contrary, she was satisfied with what she had done. These were her sentiments[,] and if they liked them[,] she was delighted, but if not[,] she would continue to hold them.

The only concession she made to Mazarin was to dismiss Ludovico Santinelli and the two guards who were his accomplices. But the beloved Francesco was naturally in greater favour than ever since the cowardly attempt at mischief-making by Monaldesco. Five days after the execution she writes to him:

"I send you the story of the death of Monaldesco, who betrayed me and wanted to make me think you were the traitor. I had all the evidence necessary to prove the contrary, and I did not want to do you the injustice to believe of you the infamies of which I cannot imagine anyone but himself being capable.

It was necessary for me to pretend to believe what he told me in order to justify you and to punish him.

At last he died, confessing his infamy and your innocence, protesting that he had invented all these chimeras to ruin you.

Note this example and pray to God that He will not deny you either brains or honour. Always behave like a gentleman and do nothing unworthy of this character.

Do not trouble to justify my actions to anyone. I hold myself answerable to God alone, and He would have punished me if I had pardoned this traitor's great crime. And that should be enough for you.

My conscience tells me that I have acted accordingly to human and divine justice, and that I could not, that I should not, have done otherwise. And this is all that I can tell you.

Be contented while I do all I can to get for you the consolation you desire, and be sure I shall plead your cause.
FONTAINEBLEAU,
November 15, 1657."

The consolation Santinelli desired was a dukedom, but he did not get it.

Christina could not fail to be conscious that her presence at Fontainebleau was a nuisance, and that the most agreeable thing she could do would be to depart as soon as possible. If she did, the world would surely say that she had been asked to go, and it would be tantamount to an admission of blame, since she was here ostensibly to arrange her financial affairs, and everyone knew that her arrangements were not complete. But Fontainebleau was dull and cold, and she soon tired of exhibiting with bravado the traces of Monaldesco's murder still staining the pavement of the Galerie des Cerfs. An invitation elsewhere was the only dignified way of moving her from Fontainebleau. She fished for one from England, but Cromwell, firmly determined not to invite so dangerous a lady, returned compliment for compliment, and that was all. So there was nothing for it but to languish at Fontainebleau, and occupy herself with financial schemes and the Naples project, both of which Mazarin took up again very soon after the death of Monaldesco. By an arrangement with Charles Gustavus, she was to have a part of France's debt to Sweden. She claimed over nine hundred thousand crowns, but only succeeded in getting thirty-three thousand. As to the Naples project, Mazarin still pretended that France was interested, promising troops and battleships, and assuring her that if the enterprise succeeded, the King wished Christina to have all the honour and glory.

The rigours of Fontainebleau were endured till February, when Christina was driven to insist upon being invited to Paris, her pretext being that she was anxious to see the King in Benserade and Lully's ballet "Alcibiades". This was unwillingly conceded, and she was lodged in Mazarin's apartment at the Louvre, an unmistakable hint that she was not expected to stay long. However, to Anne of Austria's disgust, she stayed three weeks and amused herself as best she could, going often to the play in public carriages picked up in the street, accompanied only by men. The long anticipated reception by the Académie Française was the chief event of these three weeks. It was an impulsively planned visit, and only fifteen or sixteen of the forty sages were gathered to do homage to the Sybil of the North. They did not have time to hang the portrait Christina had presented to the Académie, as an hour was all they had to assemble the members and prepare the great salon in which she was to be received. At five in the afternoon one of her footmen announced that she had arrived, and her carriage was heard down below in the Louvre courtyard. She was accompanied by Madame de Brègy, whose husband was French Ambassador in Poland. Her first question was whether the academicians stood up or sat in her presence. The precedent of Charles IX's visit in the time of Ronsard was brought forward. They could be seated. A long session followed in which a quantity of verses were read, after which the director, M. de Chambre, said that the Académie was much occupied in preparing his dictionary, and would Her Majesty be so gracious as to hear an extract from it? Her Majesty having consented, Mezerai opened the dictionary apparently at random at the word "Jeu" and read the following:

"Jeux des princes qui ne plaisent qu'à ceux qui les font. Pour exprimer les actes de violence exerçés par les hommes revêtus du pouvoir suprême."

Christina laughed heartily at this, some say to cover her confusion and blushes, but it is not likely that she was ever confused or ever blushed. The reading of "Jeu" took an hour, after which Christina rose, and[,] bowing profoundly to the company, left the way she came. Soon afterwards she quitted Paris and went on her way to Toulon. Gui Patin writes: "She is gone away ill-pleased with the Queen, having heard that she had said if the Queen of Sweden did not go, she would herself leave the Louvre." Her usual route through Savoy was barred to her because by now her Naples project was well known. French warships carried her and her suite to Leghorn. They were transporting troops to the Duke of Modena. On the 7th of May she met the Duke and they signed a treaty for the invasion of Naples.


Above: Kristina.


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

Note: Leghorn is the traditional English name for the Italian city of Livorno.

Sunday, June 29, 2025

Biography of Kristina, by Edgar Sanderson et al., year 1900, part 5

Source:

Six Thousand Years of History, volume 5 (Famous Women), pages 238 to 239, by Edgar Sanderson et al., 1900; original at Pennsylvania State University


The biography:

In the autumn of 1657 she returned to France, establishing her sorry court at Fontainebleau. Her arrival aroused no attention, as her affair was no longer a novelty. She wrote with eagerness to the heads of the Fronde faction, offering to arbitrate on the differences of princes who had been at war a hundred years. She began a course of political intrigue which warned the cabinets that she was likely to become a dangerous visitor in any land. She learned that Louis XIV, then very young, was in love with Mademoiselle de Mancini, niece of Cardinal Mazarin. She encouraged the affair of the lovers, and offered her services. "I would fain be your confidante", said she, "if you love, you must marry." While she was rude to the court ladies, and gave trouble to the ministry, she was oblivious of public opinion, and still often wore men's clothes. She seemed to the French like a Russian or barbarian potentate, and soon, to the horror of the court, performed an act of absolute sovereignty at Fontainebleau worthy of the son of Catherine de' Medici. She had always, when angry, threatened death to her offenders. When she sent her secretary to Stockholm to see about her delayed annuity payment, she said: "If you fail in your duty, not all the power of the King of Sweden shall save your life, though you take shelter in his very arms." A musician left her to perform for the Duke of Savoy. She wrote, in a high rage, "If he do not sing for me, he shall not sing long for anybody." Thus she was likely to gather about her people of unbridled passions and loose manners, and the quarrels of her household became the talk of Rome. When she established herself at Fontainebleau she learned that the Master of her Horse, the Marquis Monaldeschi, her favorite, had been guilty of a breech [sic] of trust. This charge was made by Ludovico [Santinelli], on letters from his brother in Rome. Ludovico was a rival lover of Christina. The accused man was brought before the Queen, and confessed his deeds. She chose to interpret his act as high treason, sentenced him to death, appointed his rival as his executioner, told him to confess his soul to Father Lebel, and, in the presence of that terrified priest, the equerry was slain, his blood staining the walls and floor of the gallery. In one of the rooms of the palace to-day is an inscription pointing out the place where Monaldeschi fell. She held that it was beneath her dignity to place him before any tribunal, however high it might be. "To acknowledge no superior", she exclaimed, "is worth more than to govern the whole world." The French Government, while it made no inquiry into the murder, ordered her out of France, but she did not at once obey even this order, returning to Rome in the spring of 1658.


Above: Kristina.


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

Thursday, June 12, 2025

Baron Carl Bildt on Kristina's travels from 1654 to 1658, part 7

Source:

Christine de Suède et le cardinal Azzolino: Lettres inédites (1666-1668), pages 71 to 83, by Baron Carl Bildt, 1899; courtesy of the Swedish Royal Library (Kungliga biblioteket) via Litteraturbanken.se


My standalone post of Kristina's letter of November 5/15 (New Style), 1657 to Francesco Maria Santinelli is here (the K 90 copy at Riksarkivet that I sourced is dated November 17):


Kristina's November 1657 letter to Pierre Hector Chanut is here:


Kristina's November 1657 letter to Cardinal Jules Mazarin is here:


The account:

VII
Christine quitta Arcione le 10 juillet 1657, s'arrêta un jour à Ferrare et arriva le 14 à Modène, où cependant elle ne trouva pas le duc, qui était au siège d'Alexandrie. Elle partit le 16 pour Reggio, passa rapidement par Parme et Plaisance, s'arrêta trois jours, du 28 au 30, auprès de la Cour de Turin, et quitta Suse le 1er août pour traverser le mont Cenis. Elle resta quelque temps à Lyon, où sa suite s'augmenta d'un personnage important, l'historien comte Galeazzo Gualdo Priorato. De là elle envoya, le 25 août, le comte Louis Santinelli au duc de Modène, avec une longue lettre où elle expliquait son plan de campagne. Quelques jours plus tard, nous la trouvons à Nevers, d'où elle envoya son autre capitaine des gardes, Tenderini, porter des lettres à Mazarin et au Roi, et les entretenir de ses projets. Enfin, en octobre, elle s'installe, en attendant une invitation à la Cour, au château de Fontainebleau.

Son séjour dans cette ville fut marqué par une grande activité. Elle y avait appelé son ancien secrétaire Appelman, maintenant intendant général des domaines de Poméranie, pour recevoir ses instructions et se rendre ensuite encore une fois auprès du roi de Suède, porteur des propositions suivantes. La Reine désirait avant tout que le Roi lui cédât, en échange des revenus de l'île d'Öland et de la ville de Norrköping, une rente annuelle de 100,000 écus des subsides qu'il comptait recevoir de la France. C'était un peu vendre la peau de l'ours avant de l'avoir tué, puisqu'il était fort douteux que la France dût trouver son intérêt à une pareille combinaison; mais la Reine, qui déclarait que le règlement de cette affaire était le principal but de son voyage, se faisait forte de surmonter le difficulté. Elle s'offrait en effet à négocier elle-même le traité entre la France et la Suède, et faisait entrevoir qu'elle obtiendrait des conditions exceptionnellement avantageuses. En même temps, elle demandait la cession formelle des droits de la Suède sur le reste des anciens subsides (les 900,000 écus) et abandonnait en échange les créances contre l'Empire qu'elle s'était réservées à l'abdication et dont elle n'avait touché que 78,000 écus. Elle réclamait enfin une indemnité pour tous les torts que la guerre et l'administration arbitraire du gouvernement suédois lui avaient causés dans le rendement de ses domaines de Poméranie. Le secrétaire Davisson devait accompagner Appelman dans sa mission auprès de Charles-Gustave, et revenir aussitôt que possible porter à Christine la réponse du Roi.

L'agent de la Reine en Hollande, Silfvercrona, avait aussi été appelé à Fontainebleau. Il devait s'occuper de dégager les joyaux de la Reine, sa bibliothèque, etc., et s'occuper en Hollande de la vente des céréales qui formaient une partie des revenus de Christine. Tout cela donnait lieu à des écritures assez volumineuses, d'autant plus que les provinces et domaines de Christine venaient de passer sous l'administration d'un nouveau gouverneur général, le baron Seved Bååt. Son prédécesseur, le baron Herman Fleming, avait été, à sa demande, relevé de ses fonctions peu avant le départ de la Reine de Pesaro.

Ces préoccupations ne faisaient point oublier à Christine de se préparer à l'entreprise de Naples. Louis Santinelli était bientôt revenu de sa mission de Modène. Elle s'entourait de réfugiés napolitains, dont l'un des principaux, le duc de Castelnuovo, entrait à son service. Elle s'occupait déjà de l'équipement de ses gens, et son fournisseur, des Touschelles, avait fort à faire. Il livrait «quarante habits de mesme draps viollet pour quarante suises chamarrez de passemant incarnat et blanc garnis de petites oijes, bas, soulliers, chemises, collets, gands, espées, baudrier et chacun un hallebart», plus cent deux casaques de gardes et deux habits de trompette. Il habillait encore douze pages de la chambre et douze pages de l'écurie, vingt-quatre valets de pied, trois cochers, vingt-quatre palefreniers, tous en violet. Pour quelques-uns, il y avait en outre une livrée de campagne en drap gris. Le valet de chambre Clairet Poissonnet, homme de confiance qui était entré chez Christine avant qu'elle renonçât au trône et qui devait passer toute sa vie à son service, était habillé de gris avec des galons d'or et de velours noir. Les femmes de chambre recevaient chacune un trousseau complet. Pour sa propre personne, la Reine commandait toute une garde-robe des plus variées. Il y avait entre autres six justaucorps de différentes couleurs et étoffes, chacun avec une épée, un baudrier et deux paires de gants, et «un pair de bottes d'hommes pour monter à cheval». Ainsi équipés, Christine et sa cour étaient prêtes à marcher sur Naples. Il ne manquait plus que de s'entendre avec Mazarin.

C'est au milieu de ces occupations et de ces préparatifs, et pendant que la Reine attendait à Fontainebleau l'invitation de venir à la Cour de France et une entrevue avec Mazarin, qu'arriva, le 10 novembre 1657, la mort tragique de Monaldesco. Les circonstances de cet événement sont trop connues pour que j'entreprenne d'en répéter ici les détails. Je me bornerai à relater les faits inconnus ou insuffisamment connus que donnent les documents.

François Santinelli s'était, nous l'avons vu, rendu de Pesaro à Rome avec une somme d'argent, qu'il devait employer à dégager les diamants de la Reine et à mettre en ordre le palais Farnèse, sur lequel Christine croyait pouvoir toujours compter. Outre cela, il reçut encore de l'argent de la Reine à Venise, Manoel Valensin, quelque argent pour cette installation et devait prendre charge de tous les effets que la Reine avait laissés à Rome ou qu'elle y avait envoyés de Pesaro à son départ pour la France. La confiance que lui avait témoignée Christine était malheureusement imméritée. Il dégagea effectivement les diamants chez le marquis Palombara, mais au lieu de les remettre, comme il était convenu, au cardinal Azzolino, il les réengagea immédiatement à un juif. L'argent qu'il devait dépenser pour le palais resta dans sa propre poche, et, malgré les assurances qu'il avait données à la Reine, il n'avait obtenu au palais qu'un petit logement pour lui-même. Il prétendait que son rang exigeait qu'il maintînt auprès de lui un gentilhomme, dont il portait les gages au compte de la Reine, tandis que ce personnage n'existait que sur ses notes. Espérant que l'immense désordre qui régnait autour de Christine empêcherait toute découverte, ou lui permettrait de rejeter la faute sur un autre, il faisait main basse sur l'argenterie, remplaçait sur la vaisselle les armes de la Reine par les siennes, vendait plats, assiettes et candélabres, brûlait des broderies pour en tirer l'or et l'argent. Mais tout cela se faisait, à ce qu'il paraît, un peu trop ouvertement, et un certain Peruzzi tenait Monaldesco au courant de ce qui se passait.

Si Monaldesco avait été un homme franc et loyal, il aurait averti la Reine de ces dilapidations, mais, pour son malheur, il était naturellement porté à la ruse et aux expédients, et peut-être même aura-t-il voulu profiter de l'occasion pour mettre à la charge de Santinelli quelques méfaits plus graves. Toujours est-il qu'il écrivit des lettres destinées à tomber entre les mains de la Reine, dans lesquelles il contrefit l'écriture de Santinelli, ce qui ne doit pas lui avoir été très difficile, car leurs écritures avaient beaucoup de ressemblance. Quelqu'un, d'ailleurs, à la cour de Christine devait intercepter, ou ouvrir des lettres, car le 8 juillet précédent Lascaris avait déjà prié la Reine de lui faire savoir si ses lettres lui parvenaient avec les trois cachets intacts, «parce que«, écrivait-il, «le monde est plus curieux que jamais». Par précaution, il entourait d'un léger fil de fer un pli d'Azzolino, qu'il lui envoyait. Un peu plus tard (Le 15 octobre 1657. Arch. Azzolino.) la Reine faisait prier le maître des postes de Lyon de donner ses lettres au courrier même, «sans les faire enfermer dans ses malles», ce qui indiquerait qu'elle voulait se prémunir contre quelqu'un qui interceptait ses lettres à l'arrivée. D'autre part, Christine se considérait comme ayant le droit d'ouvrir et de lire les lettres de ses gens (Pendant son séjour à Hambourg, 1666-1668, les membres de la suite sont obligés de prendre des précautions pour que la Reine ne lise pas les lettres qu'ils reçoivent d'Azzolino ou qu'ils lui adressent.), et elle paraît s'être emparée de celles de Monaldesco.

Quelque lumière sur la cause du drame est fournie par une lettre que Christine écrivit, cinq jours après la mise à mort de Monaldesco, à François Santinelli. Elle y dit:

«Je vous envoie la relation de la mort de Monaldesco, qui me trahissait et voulait me faire croire que vous fussiez le traître. J'avais tous les renseignements nécessaires pour prouver le contraire et je n'ai pas voulu vous faire le tort de croire de vous les infamies desquelles je ne pouvais m'imaginer que quelqu'un d'autre que lui fût capable.

Il m'est convenu de faire semblant de croire ce qu'il voulait me donner à entendre, parce qu'il convenait de faire ainsi pour vous justifier et le punir.

Finalement il est mort, confessant son infamie et votre innocence, protestant d'avoir inventé toutes ces chimères pour vous perdre.

Mirez-vous dans cet exemple et priez Dieu qu'il ne vous prive ni du cerveau ni de l'honneur. Agissez toujours en gentilhomme et ne faites jamais aucune action indigne de ce caractère.

Ne prenez pas la peine de justifier mon action auprès de personne. Je prétends de ne rendre des comptes qu'à Dieu seul, qui m'aurait punie, si j'avais pardonné au traître son énorme délit. Et que ceci vous suffise.

Je sais en ma conscience d'avoir agi selon la justice divine et humaine, et que je ne pouvais, ni ne devais faire autrement. Et ceci est tout ce que je puis vous dire.

Restez de bonne humeur, tandis que je ferai mon possible pour vous donner la consolation que vous avez désirée, et soyez certain que je prendrai votre parti.»
Fontainebleau, le 15 novembre 1657.

Il y a trois méfaits dont Monaldesco a pu accuser Santinelli: de voler la Reine, de dénigrer sa réputation et spécialement ses relations avec Azzolino, et de livrer le secret de ses projets sur Naples aux Espagnols. Peut-être ses accusations ont-elles porté à la fois sur ces trois chefs. Mais il s'agit aussi d'une action que, selon la Reine, Monaldesco a réellement commise lui-même en même temps qu'il en a accusé Santinelli. Monaldesco ne pouvait pas prendre part au pillage auquel Santinelli se livrait à Rome. Il est aussi difficile d'admettre qu'il ait cru de son intérêt de répandre des bruits calomnieux sur la réputation de la Reine, mais il a pu fabriquer des lettres diffamatoires dans l'espoir qu'on les croirait émaner de Santinelli et que la découverte des escroqueries de celui-ci permettrait de lui attribuer encore ce nouveau crime. La dernière explication, celle des relations clandestines avec l'Espagne, remplit parfaitement les deux conditions requises, et elle est aussi, sous tous les rapports, la plus vraisemblable. Monaldesco peut avoir accusé Santinelli de cette trahison, et il peut avoir révélé lui-même au gouvernement espagnol les machinations de Christine. La cruelle vengeance de la Reine se plus facilement comprendre, car elle pouvait avoir intérêt à clore la bouche d'un homme qui avait été initié aux secrets de ses négociations. C'est aussi l'explication qui paraît avoir été acceptée à Paris. L'envoyé de Modène, Ercole Manzieri, écrit au duc, le 16 novembre 1657 (Arch. di Stato, Modène.), qu'on disait que Monaldesco livrait les secrets de la Reine à l'Espagne (Le cardinal Azzolino affirme plus tard la même chose. Dans une lettre (chiffrée) à Mgr Marescotti, nonce en Pologne, il écrit, le 15 juin 1669, pendant les négociations pour l'élection de Christine au trône de Pologne: «La mort de Monaldesco fut causée par la découverte de son affreuse trahison. Il avait révélé ses plus secrètes négociations, dont il était alors lui-même l'intermédiaire auprès du cardinal Mazarin et auprès d'autres personnes. Ce fut prouvé par trois témoins et au moyen de ses propres lettres interceptées par la Reine. Il les reconnut pour siennes et confessa son crime.» — Papiers Marescotti (n° 302), appartenant aux héritiers du professeur Const. Corvisieri de Rome.). — D'autre part, l'ambassadeur de Venise écrit quelques jours après (Dépêche du 20 novembre 1657. Arch. di Stato. Venise. Dans une dépêche du 29 janvier 1658 (ibidem) Giustiniani écrit qu'un confident de la Reine l'a assuré que M. fut mis à mort parce qu'il livrait les secrets de la Reine aux Espagnols et traîtait même avec eux de l'empoisonner.) que la mort de Monaldesco fut causée par de fausses lettres écrites par lui contre l'honneur et la réputation de la Reine. Les deux hypothèses resteront en présence jusqu'à ce qu'un jour des documents indiscutables viennent nous fournir l'entière vérité.

Ce qui est certain, c'est que l'amour n'a été pour rien dans la mort du malheureux écuyer. C'est une légende accréditée par les poètes et les romanciers, et pas autre chose (Alexandre Dumas père et le poète anglais Browning se sont occupés du drame de Fontainebleau. J'avoue que j'ai peu compris du poème de ce dernier, excepté que l'auteur ne savait rien du caractère historique des personnages qu'il chantait.).

L'interprétation la plus charitable qu'on puisse donner à l'acte sanguinaire de la Reine, est qu'il a été inspiré par la peur. Les dangers auxquels la conduite de Monaldesco pouvait l'exposer n'étaient pas très graves, mais les névrosés sont spécialement accessibles à la crainte pour la sûreté de leur personne. Naturellement portés aux décisions subites, ils sentent cette tendance s'accentuer encore sous l'influence de la peur. Même les natures douces et hésitantes deviennent alors cruelles et inflexibles, hypnotisées par la terrible préoccupation du moi, dont elles ne peuvent se détacher. Névrose, égoïsme, cruauté, tout cela se tient et se suit comme les grains d'un chapelet. La crainte de montrer combien ils ont eu peur est une autre particularité des névropathes. Plus ils ont tremblé, plus ils aiment à faire les braves. Les lettres de Christine en sont un horrible exemple. Quelques années plus tard, nous la verrons écrire au cardinal Azzolino que la régence de Suède veut se débarrasser d'elle par le poignard ou le poison, et elle vantera son courage à braver ces chimériques dangers.

L'action de Christine peut s'expliquer, mais il est difficile de la justifier, et elle restera toujours une affreuse tache sur sa mémoire. Monaldesco n'est certainement pas un caractère très sympathique, mais François Santinelli, son adversaire, protégé par Christine, l'est encore bien moins que lui, et ce n'est pas le moindre reproche qu'on puisse faire à la Reine, que d'avoir immolé une victime à un si triste personnage.

Ajoutons, par devoir d'impartialité, que la famille Monaldesco pardonna à la Reine. Celle-ci fut plus tard en correspondance (Dans la collection de Montpellier il se trouve (VI, p. 347) une lettre de Christine au comte Paul-Antoine Monaldesco, du 23 mars 1680. Un libraire antiquaire de Rome m'a assuré en avoir vendu plusieurs autres, il y a quelques années, à un collectionneur d'autographes.) avec le comte Paul-Antoine Monaldesco d'Orvieto, dont elle fit épouser la fille à un de ses courtisans, le marquis Jean-Mathieu del Monte.

La visite de Christine avait été dès le commencement un embarras pour la Cour de France. Le meurtre de Monaldesco y mit le comble. Indigné autant qu'embarrassée, Mazarin envoya à Fontainebleau Chanut et l'abbé Ondedei (Dépêche de Francesco Giustiniani, du 20 novembre 1657. Arch. di Stato, Venise.), pour faire savoir à Christine qu'il serait bon qu'elle essayât de masquer la vérité en attribuant la mort du malheureux marquis à une rixe survenue entre ses courtisans. Mais c'était mal connaître le caractère de la Reine. Voici les réponses qu'obtinrent Chanut et Mazarin: j'en ai conservé scrupuleusement l'orthographe qui ajoute une saveur particulière à ces billets, où se mêlent la cruauté et la fierté. ...

Tout ce que purent obtenir les envoyés de Mazarin fut l'éloignement de Louis Santinelli et des deux gardes qui avaient fait avec lui l'office de bourreau. Christina avait si peu conscience de l'horreur qu'inspirait son action qu'elle n'hésita pas à demander un mois plus tard à Mazarin un duché pour François Santinelli, le frère du meurtrier (Annotation de la main de Son Éminence à la lettre de la reine de Suède du 18 décembre 1657. Paris, Arch. des Aff. Étr., Suède, t. XXII, f. 488.).

Il est assez naturel qu'après ceci le peu d'empressement que la Cour de France avait dès l'abord témoigné à Christine se soit changé en froideur. Aussi fut-elle laissée à Fontainebleau jusqu'à la fin de février, lorsqu'elle fut enfin invitée à venir à Paris, et prit part à quelques fêtes. Ce fut alors qu'elle vit Louis XIV danser dans le ballet «Alcibiade» de Benserade et de Lully et qu'elle fut reçue par l'Académie française. Mais l'accueil de la cour fut limité aux plus strictes exigences de la politesse. On est rarement le bienvenu lorsqu'on demande de l'argent ou lorsqu'on propose des entreprises aventureuses, et moins encore si l'on enfreint en même temps les lois de l'hospitalité et celles de l'humanité. Christine en fit l'expérience.

Cependant, Mazarin avait intérêt à la ménager: d'abord par égard pour Charles-Gustave (Mazarin écrit à Terlon le 19 avril 1658: «Dites au roi de Suède que je me suis appliqué avec soin et succès à empêcher cette reine de lui aller tomber sur les bras; que cela coûte 80,000 écus au roi.» Ibidem, t. XXIII, f. 244. GEFFROY, Recueil des Instructions, Suède, p. 22.), ensuite parce que la menace d'une invasion de Naples, même si on n'avait nulle intention de la réaliser, pouvait encore inquiéter les Espagnols (Mazarin au duc de Modène, Calais le 19 juin 1658. CAMPORI, op. cit., p. 230.). Aussi continua-t-il à écouter les propositions de la Reine tant pour l'affaire de Naples, que pour l'intervention de la France dans les arrangements pécuniaires de Christine avec Charles-Gustave, mais il fut des plus prudents dans ses promesses et dans ses avances d'argent. Il lui avait déclaré, dès la reprise de leurs relations après la mort de Monaldesco, qu'il ne s'engagerait qu'à lui payer l'équivalent des revenus qu'elle abandonnerait de son côté au roi de Suède («Copie de l'escrit donné à la Reine de Suède par Mgr le cardinal à Petitbourg, 30 nov. 1657.» Paris, Arch. des Aff. Étr., Suède, Suppl. XXII. f. 435.). Plus tard, lorsque Christine lui eut annoncé que Charles-Gustave lui avait effectivement cédé les prétentions de la Suède contre la France (Christine à Mazarin, sans date. Paris, Aff. Étr., Suppl. XXII. Suède, f. 436.), il se borna à charger une commission d'examiner l'affaire. Le rapport de cette commission, dont faisaient partie, entre autres, Chanut, Séguier, Servien et Foucquet, n'admit sur la réclamation de la Reine, qui se montait en tout à 993,445 écus, qu'une somme de 33,445 écus, et encore sous certaines réserves (Rapport des commissaires, rédigé par Chanut. Ibidem, XXIV. f. 384.). Les secours d'argent qu'obtint Christine ne furent donc pas considérables. — Les encouragements pour l'entreprise de Naples avaient l'avantage de coûter moins cher, et le cardinal paraît les avoir prodigués à Christine avec plus de libéralité que les écus. Du moins la laissa-t-il partir fermement convaincue que les troupes et les galères de France allaient bientôt combattre sous ses ordres, et qu'elle trouverait à Naples «un établissement grand et glorieux» (Réponse de Mazarin à un Mémoire de Christine, 1657, sans date. «Si l'entreprise réussit, le Roi veut que Christine en recueille les fruits et qu'elle y trouve un établissement grand et glorieux.» Ibidem, XXII. f. 379, minute.).

La Reine quitta Paris vers le 18 mars et, après s'être arrêtée un jour à Fontainebleau, elle se dirigea par Lyon et Aix vers Toulon pour s'y embarquer. Ses plans contre Naples, désormais ébruités, l'empêchaient de prendre la route accoutumée par la Savoie et le Milanais. Elle laissait, pour la représenter à Paris, le duc de Castelnuovo, promu grand écuyer à la place de Monaldesco. Les galères françaises, qui devaient porter quelques renforts au duc de Modène, transportèrent aussi Christine et sa suite. Elle débarqua à Livourne, se rendit de là à Lucques, où les autorités de la petite république, assez embarrassées pour les dépenses qu'occasionnait son passage, lui firent cependant une magnifique réception (Voir pour les détails: CESARE SARDI, Cristina di Svezia in Lucca, Lucques, 1883.). Le 7 mai, elle se rencontra à Sassuolo avec le duc de Modène, et signa avec lui une espèce de traité pour l'invasion de Naples. Le duc s'engageait formellement à appuyer d'un contingent de troupes l'attaque que Christine devait diriger par les Abruzzes, mais il avait soin d'ajouter certaines conditions qui permettent difficilement de croire qu'il ait pris au sérieux le document auquel il apposait sa signature. D'abord, le débarquement de troupes françaises sur les côtes napolitaines que Christine promettait, devait avoir réussi. Puis le duc devait être lui-même assuré contre toute attaque des forces espagnoles du Milanais. Enfin, Christine devait obtenir du Saint-Siège le libre passage des troupes du duc par les États pontificaux. Seulement lorsque ces conditions, dont il devait bien comprendre les difficultés, seraient remplies, le duc ferait marcher son contingent, dont il négligeait, du reste, de stipuler la force (Ce document n'est pas mentionné dans l'étude précitée de Campori. Il se trouve aux Archives de Modène, parmi les lettres de la Reine. Il est signé: CHRISTINA ALESSANDRA et FRAN:CO D'ESTE.).

Cet acte important accompli, Christine reprit la route de Rome, où elle arriva le 15 mai 1658, à midi. Elle fut reçue sans solennité («In forma privata.» Dépêche de l'ambassadeur de Venise, Angelo Correr, du 18 mai 1658. Arch. di Stato, Venise.) et alla s'installer au palais Mazarin (Actuellement le palais Rospigliosi.), sur la place de Monte Cavallo, que le cardinal avait, sur sa demande, mis à sa disposition. Le duc de Parme avait déclaré qu'il ne pouvait plus lui céder le palais Farnèse, dont il pouvait avoir besoin lui-même pour ses missions diplomatiques (Le duc de Parme au marquis di Felino, Parme, 22 mars 1658. Arch. Azzolino, copie.).

Swedish translation (my own):

VII
Kristina lämnade Arcione den 10 juli 1657, stannade en dag i Ferrara och anlände till Modena den 14, där hon emellertid inte fann hertigen, som var under belägringen av Alessandria. Hon avreste till Reggio den 16, passerade snabbt genom Parma och Piacenza, stannade i tre dagar, från den 28 till den 30, vid hovet i Turin, och lämnade Susa den 1 augusti för att korsa Mont Cenis. Hon stannade en tid i Lyon, där hennes följe förstärktes av en viktig person, historikern greve Galleazzo Gualdo Priorato. Därifrån skickade hon den 25 augusti greve Ludovico Santinelli till hertigen av Modena med ett långt brev där hon förklarade sin fälttågsplan. Några dagar senare finner vi henne i Nevers, varifrån hon skickade sin andra kapten för gardet, Tenderini, för att överlämna brev till Mazarin och konungen och informera dem om sina projekter. Slutligen, i oktober, installerade hon sig, medan hon väntade på en inbjudan till hovet, på slottet i Fontainebleau.

Hennes vistelse i denna stad präglades av stor aktivitet. Hon hade kallat dit sin tidigare sekreterare Appelman, numera generalintendant för domänerna i Pommern, för att motta hans instruktioner och sedan återigen bege sig till Sveriges konung med följande förslag. Drottningen önskade framför allt att konungen, i utbyte mot Ölands och Norrköpings stads intäkter, skulle ge henne en årlig inkomst på 100,000 écus från de subventioner han förväntade sig att få från Frankrike. Detta var lite som att sälja björnskinnet innan man dödade det, eftersom det var mycket tveksamt att Frankrike skulle finna det i sitt intresse att göra det; men drottningen, som förklarade att lösningen av denna fråga var huvudsyftet med hennes resa, gjorde sig säker på att hon skulle övervinna svårigheten. Hon erbjöd sig att själv förhandla fram fördraget mellan Frankrike och Sverige och gav intrycket att hon skulle få exceptionellt fördelaktiga villkor.

Samtidigt krävde hon ett formellt avstående av Sveriges rättigheter till återstoden av de gamla subventionerna (de 900,000 écus) och övergav i utbyte de anspråk mot Imperiet som hon hade reserverat för sig själv vid abdikationen och av vilka hon endast hade fått 78,000 écus. Slutligen krävde hon ersättning för alla de skador som kriget och den svenska regeringens godtyckliga administration hade orsakat henne i samband med avyttringen av hennes domäner i Pommern. Sekreterare Davisson skulle följa med Appelman på hans uppdrag till Karl Gustav och återvända så snart som möjligt för att ge Kristina konungens svar.

Drottningens ombud i Holland, Silfvercrona, hade också kallats till Fontainebleau. Han skulle ta hand om att utrensa drottningens juveler, hennes bibliotek osv., och omhänderta försäljningen i Holland av den spannmål som utgjorde en del av Kristinas inkomster. Allt detta gav upphov till ganska omfattande pappersarbete, särskilt eftersom Kristinas provinser och domäner just hade kommit under administrationen av en ny generalguvernör, baron Seved Bååth. Hans föregångare, baron Herman Fleming, hade på hans begäran avskedats från sina uppgifter kort före drottningens avresa från Pesaro.

Dessa bekymmer fick inte Kristina att glömma att förbereda sig för Neapelföretaget. Ludovico Santinelli hade snart återvänt från sitt uppdrag i Modena. Hon omgav sig med napolitanska flyktingar, varav en av de viktigaste, hertigen av Castelnuovo, skulle börja hennes tjänst. Hon var redan upptagen med att utrusta sitt folk, och hennes leverantör, des Touschelles, hade mycket att göra. Han levererade »fyrtio dräkter av samma purpurfärgade tyg för fyrtio schweiziska plagg prydda med karmosinröda och vita galoner kantade med små gåsfjädrar, strumpor, skor, skjortor, kragar, handskar, svärd, värjgehäng, och var och en en hillebard«, plus etthundratvå gardiskasacker och två trumpetaredräkter. Han klädde också tolv kammarpike och tolv stallets pake, tjugofyra betjänter, tre kuskar, tjugofyra hästskötare, alla i purpur. För vissa fanns det också en kampanjlivré av grått tyg.

Kammartjänaren, Clairet Poissonnet, en betrodd man som hade tillträtt Kristinas hushåll innan hon avsägde sig tronen och som skulle tillbringa hela sitt liv i hennes tjänst, var klädd i grått med guldfärgade galoner och svart sammet. Kammarjungfrurna fick var och en en komplett brudutrustning. För sin egen person beställde drottningen en hel och varierad garderob. Bland annat fanns det sex justaucorps i olika färger och tyger, var och en med ett svärd, ett värjgehäng och två par handskar, samt »ett par herrstövlar för att rida på en häst«.

Således utrustade var Kristina och hennes hov redo att marschera mot Neapel. Allt som saknades var att komma överens med Mazarin.

Det var mitt under dessa sysselsättningar och förberedelser, och medan drottningen väntade i Fontainebleau på inbjudan att komma till Frankrikes hov och ett möte med Mazarin, som Monaldescos tragiska död inträffade den 10 november 1657. Omständigheterna kring denna händelse är alltför välkända för att jag skall kunna upprepa detaljerna här. Jag kommer att begränsa mig till att återge de okända eller otillräckligt kända fakta som anges i dokumenten.

Francesco Santinelli hade, som vi sett, rest från Pesaro till Rom med en summa pengar, som han skulle använda för att rensa drottningens diamanter och för att ställa i ordning palatset Farnese, som Kristina trodde sig alltid kunna räkna med. Utöver detta fick han ytterligare pengar från drottningen i Venedig, Manoel Valensin, en del pengar för denna installation och skulle ta hand om alla de tillhörigheter som drottningen hade lämnat kvar i Rom eller som hon hade skickat dit från Pesaro vid sin avresa till Frankrike.

Det förtroende som Kristina hade visat honom var tyvärr oförtjänt. Han tog visserligen diamanterna från markis Palombara, men istället för att överlämna dem, som överenskommits, till kardinal Azzolino, pantsatte han dem omedelbart igen till en jude. Pengarna han skulle spendera på palatset stannade kvar i hans egen ficka, och trots de försäkringar han hade gett drottningen hade han bara skaffat sig en liten lägenhet i palatset. Han hävdade att hans rang krävde att han hade en gentleman hos sig, vars lön han bar på drottningens konto, medan denna person bara existerade på hans räkningar.

I hopp om att den enorma oordning som rådde kring Kristina skulle förhindra varje upptäckt, eller låta honom lägga skulden på någon annan, beslagtog han silvret, ersatte drottningens vapensköld på servisen med sitt eget, sålde fat, tallrikar och ljusstakar och brände broderier för att utvinna guld och silver. Men allt detta gjordes, verkar det som, lite för öppet, och en viss Peruzzi höll Monaldesco informerad om vad som hände.

Om Monaldesco hade varit en uppriktig och trogen man, skulle han ha varnat drottningen för dessa förfall, men olyckligtvis för honom var han naturligtvis benägen till slughet och snabba metoder, och kanske ville han till och med utnyttja tillfället att anklaga Santinelli för några allvarligare missgärningar. I vilket fall som helst skrev han brev avsedda att falla i drottningens händer, i vilka han förfalskade Santinellis handstil, vilket säkerligen inte måste ha varit särskilt svårt för honom, ty deras skrifter hade en stor likhet med varandra.

Någon vid Kristinas hov måste dessutom ha avlyssnat, eller öppnat, breven, eftersom Lascaris redan den 8 juli föregående hade bett drottningen att meddela honom om hans brev nådde henne med de tre sigillen intakta, »eftersom«, skrev han, »världen är mer nyfiken än någonsin«. Som en försiktighetsåtgärd lindade han in ett brev från Azzolino med en tunn tråd och skickade det till henne. Lite senare (Den 15 oktober 1657. Azzolino-arkivet.) lät drottningen be postmästaren i Lyon att själv ge hennes brev till kuriren, »utan att ha dem inlåsta i sina koffertar«, vilket skulle tyda på att hon ville skydda sig mot att någon avlyssnade hennes brev vid ankomsten.

Vidare ansåg sig Kristina ha rätt att öppna och läsa sitt folks brev (Under sin vistelse i Hamburg, 1666-1668, var medlemmarna i sviten skyldiga att vidta försiktighetsåtgärder så att drottningen inte läste de brev de fick från Azzolino eller adresserade till honom.), och hon tycks ha tagit i besittning dem från Monaldesco.

Något ljus över orsaken till dramat ges av ett brev som Kristina skrev, fem dagar efter Monaldescos avrättning, till Francesco Santinelli. Däri skriver hon:

»Jag skickar Er berättelsen om Monaldescos död, han som förrådde mig och ville få mig att tro att Ni var förrädaren. Jag hade all nödvändig information för att bevisa motsatsen, och jag har inte velat göra Er orätt att tro på Er de infamier som jag inte kan föreställa mig att någon annan än honom var kapabel till.

Det var bekvämt för mig att låtsas tro på det han ville att jag skulle förstå, ty det var bekvämt att göra det för att rättfärdiga Er och straffa honom.

Till slut är han död, bekänner sin vanära och Er oskuld, protesterande att han hade uppfunnit alla dessa chimärer för att förlora Er.

Se på Er själv i detta exempel och be till Gud att han varken berövar Er förstånd eller heder. Uppför Er alltid som en herre och gör aldrig något som är ovärdigt den karaktären.

Bry Er inte om att rättfärdiga mina handlingar inför någon. Jag påstår att jag måste stå till svars endast inför Gud, som skulle ha straffat mig om jag hade förlåtit förrädaren för hans enorma brott. Och må detta vara nog för Er.

Jag vet i mitt samvete att jag har handlat i enlighet med gudomlig och mänsklig rättvisa och att jag inte kunde, och inte heller borde, ha gjort annorlunda. Och detta är allt jag kan säga till Er.

Var vid gott humör medan jag gör mitt bästa för att ge Er den tröst Ni önskar, och var säker på att jag kommer att ta Er sida.«
Fontainebleau, den 15 november 1657.

Det finns tre missgärningar som Monaldesco kunde ha anklagat Santinelli för: att stjäla från drottningen, förringa hennes rykte och särskilt hennes förhållande till Azzolino, och att avslöja hemligheten bakom sina projekter för Neapel för spanjorerna. Kanske omfattade hans anklagelser alla dessa tre punkter. Men detta är också en handling som, enligt drottningen, Monaldesco faktiskt begick samtidigt som han anklagade Santinelli. Monaldesco kunde inte ha deltagit i plundringen som Santinelli utförde i Rom.

Det är också svårt att erkänna att han trodde att det låg i hans intresse att sprida förtalande rykten om drottningens rykte, men han kunde ha fabricerat ärekränkande brev i hopp om att de skulle tros komma från Santinelli och att upptäckten av hans bedrägerier skulle göra det möjligt att tillskriva honom detta nya brott.

Den sista förklaringen, den om hemliga förbindelser med Spanien, uppfyller perfekt båda de nödvändiga villkoren, och den är också, i alla avseenden, den mest sannolika. Monaldesco kan ha anklagat Santinelli för detta förräderi, och han kan själv ha avslöjat Kristinas intriger för den spanska regeringen.

Drottningens grymma hämnd är lättare att förstå, ty hon kan ha haft ett intresse av att få en man som hade invigts i hemligheterna kring hennes förhandlingar fängslad. Detta är också den förklaring som verkar ha accepterats i Paris.

Modenas sändebud, Ercole Manzieri, skrev till hertigen den 16 november 1657 (Archivio di Stato, Modena.), att Monaldesco sades leverera drottningens hemligheter till Spanien (Kardinal Azzolino hävdar senare samma sak. I ett brev (chifferat) till monsignor Marescotti, nuntius i Polen, skrev han den 15 juni 1669, under förhandlingarna om valet av Kristina till Polens tron: »Monaldescos död orsakades av upptäckten av hans fruktansvärda förräderi. Han hade avslöjat sina mest hemliga förhandlingar, för vilka han själv då var mellanhand med kardinal Mazarin och med andra personer. Detta bevisades av tre vittnen och med hjälp av hans egna brev som drottningen snappade upp. Han kände igen dem som sina egna och erkände sitt brott.« — Marescottipapperen (Nr 302), som tillhörde arvingarna till professor Costantino Corvisieri i Rom.). —

Å andra sidan skrev den venetianske ambassadören några dagar senare (Depesch av den 20 november 1657. Archivio di Stato. Venedig. I en depesch av den 29 januari 1658 (ibidem) skrev Giustiniani att en förtrogen till drottningen försäkrat honom om att M. hade avrättats för att han lämnat drottningens hemligheter till spanjorerna och till och med trakterat med dem för att förgifta henne.) att Monaldescos död orsakades av falska brev skrivna av honom mot drottningens heder och rykte. Båda hypoteserna kommer att kvarstå tills obestridliga dokument en dag kommer att ge oss hela sanningen.

Vad som är säkert är att kärleken inte hade något att göra med den olycklige stallmästarens död. Det är en legend som erkänts av diktare och romanförfattare, och inget annat (Alexandre Dumas fadern och den engelske diktaren Browning har sysselsatt sig med dramat i Fontainebleau. Jag erkänner att jag har förstått föga av den senares dikt, förutom att författaren inte visste någonting om den historiska karaktären hos de personer han sjöng om.).

Den mest välvilliga tolkningen som kan ges av drottningens blodtörstiga handling är att den var inspirerad av rädsla. De faror som Monaldescos uppförande kunde ha utsatt honom för var inte särskilt allvarliga, men neurotiker är särskilt mottagliga för rädsla för sin egen säkerhet. Naturligt benägna att fatta plötsliga beslut, känner de att denna tendens blir ännu mer uttalad under rädslans inflytande. Även milda och tveksamma naturer blir då grymma och oflexibla, hypnotiserade av den fruktansvärda upptagenheten med jaget, från vilket de inte kan frigöra sig.

Neuros, egoism, grymhet, allt detta är sammanlänkat och följer på varandra likt pärlorna i ett rosenkrans. Rädslan för att visa hur rädda de har varit är ett annat kännetecken för neuropater. Ju mer de har darrat, desto mer gillar de att agera modigt. Kristinas brev är ett hemskt exempel på detta. Några år senare kommer vi att se henne skriva till kardinal Azzolino att Sveriges förmyndarregering vill bli av med henne med dolk eller gift, och hon kommer att skryta med sitt mod att trotsa dessa chimäriska faror.

Kristinas handling kan förklaras, men det är svårt att rättfärdiga den, och den kommer alltid att förbli en fruktansvärd fläck i hennes minne. Monaldesco är sannerligen inte en särskilt sympatisk karaktär, men Francesco Santinelli, hans motståndare, skyddad av Kristina, är det ännu mindre än han, och det är inte den minsta förebråelse man kan rikta mot drottningen att ha offrat ett slaktoffer för en så sorglig karaktär.

Låt oss tillägga, av opartiskhetsplikt, att familjen Monaldesco förlät drottningen. Hon stod senare i korrespondens (I Montpelliersamlingen finns (VI, sidan 347) ett brev från Kristina till greve Paolo Antonio Monaldesco, daterat den 23 mars 1680. En antikvariebokhandlare i Rom har försäkrat mig om att han för några år sedan sålde flera andra till en autografsamlare.) med greve Paolo Antonio Monaldesco av Orvieto, vars dotter hon gifte med en av sina hovmän, markisen Gianmattia del Monte.

Kristinas besök hade varit ett besvär för det franska hovet från början. Mordet på Monaldesco bidrog till klimaxen. Indignerad såväl som generad skickade Mazarin Chanut och abbé Ondedei till Fontainebleau (Depesch från Francesco Giustiniani, den 20 november 1657. Archivio di Stato, Venedig.), för att informera Kristina om att det vore bra om hon försökte maskera sanningen genom att tillskriva den olyckliga markisens död ett slagsmål som hade brutit ut mellan hennes hovmän. Men detta visade en dålig förståelse för drottningens karaktär. Här är svaren som Chanut och Mazarin fick: jag har noggrant bevarat ortografin, vilket ger en särskild prägel åt dessa anteckningar, där grymhet och stolthet blandas. ...

Allt som Mazarins sändebud lyckades åstadkomma var att avlägsna Ludovico Santinelli och de två vakter som hade agerat bödel tillsammans med honom. Kristina var så föga medveten om den fasa hennes handlingar framkallade att hon en månad senare inte tvekade att be Mazarin om ett hertigdöme för Francesco Santinelli, mördarens bror (Anteckning i Hans Eminens' hand till brevet från Sveriges drottning, daterat den 18 december 1657. Paris, Archive des Affaires Étrangères, Suède, volym XXII, sidan 488.).

Det är helt naturligt att den lilla entusiasm som det franska hovet först visat Kristina efter detta har övergått i kyla. Så hon lämnades kvar i Fontainebleau till slutet av februari, då hon slutligen inbjöds att komma till Paris och delta i några festligheter. Det var då hon såg Ludvig XIV dansa i baletten »Alcibiade« av Benserade och Lully och mottogs av Franska Akademin. Men mottagandet vid hovet begränsades till de strängaste kraven på artighet. Man är sällan välkommen när man ber om pengar eller när man föreslår äventyrliga företag, och ännu mindre om man samtidigt bryter mot gästfrihetens och mänsklighetens lagar. Kristina upplevde detta på nära håll.

Mazarin hade emellertid ett intresse av att skona henne: för det första av hänsyn till Karl Gustav (Mazarin skrev till Terlon den 19 april 1658: »Säg till Sveriges konung att jag noggrant och framgångsrikt har ansträngt mig för att förhindra att denna drottning faller i hans händer; att detta har kostat konungen 80,000 écusIbidem, volym XXIII, sidan 244. GEFFROY, Recueil des Instructions, Suède, sidan 22.), sedan för att hotet om en invasion av Neapel, även om det inte fanns någon avsikt att genomföra den, fortfarande kunde oroa spanjorerna (Mazarin till hertigen av Modena, Calais, den 19 juni 1658. CAMPORI, op. cit., sidan 230.). Han fortsatte också att lyssna på drottningens förslag både för Neapelaffären och för Frankrikes ingripande i Kristinas ekonomiska arrangemang med Karl Gustav, men han var mycket försiktig i sina löften och i sina penningförslag. Han hade förklarat för henne, så snart deras relationer återupptogs efter Monaldescos död, att han endast skulle åta sig att betala henne motsvarande den inkomst som hon skulle avstå från sin sida till Sveriges konung (»Kopia av det dokument som monseigneur kardinalen i Petitbourg, den 30 november 1657, överlämnat till Sveriges drottning.« Paris, Archive des Affaires Étrangères, Suède, Supplement XXII, sidan 435.).

Senare, när Kristina informerade honom om att Karl Gustav verkligen hade avstått Sveriges anspråk mot Frankrike till henne (Kristina till Mazarin, odaterad. Paris, Affaires Étrangères, Supplement XXII, Suède, sidan 436.), begränsade han sig till att ge en kommission i uppdrag att undersöka saken. Kommissionens rapport, som bland annat inkluderade Chanut, Séguier, Servien och Foucquet, medgav drottningens anspråk, som totalt uppgick till 993,445 écus, endast en summa av 33,445 écus, och även då med vissa reservationer (Kommissariernas rapport, skriven av Chanut. Ibidem, XXIV, sidan 384.). Det ekonomiska stöd som Kristina erhöll var därför inte betydande. —

Uppmuntran till Neapelföretaget hade fördelen att det kostade mindre, och kardinalen verkar ha överöst det med Kristina med mer generositet än écus. Åtminstone lät han henne ge sig av, fast övertygad om att Frankrikes trupper och galejer snart skulle strida under hans befäl, och att hon i Neapel skulle finna »en stor och strålande anläggning« (Mazarins svar på ett Memorial från Kristina, 1657, odaterat. »Om företaget lyckas vill konungen att Kristina skall skörda frukterna och finna en stor och strålande anläggning där.« Ibidem, XXII, sidan 379, protokoll.).

Drottningen lämnade Paris omkring den 18 mars och efter att ha stannat en dag i Fontainebleau, begav hon sig genom Lyon och Aix till Toulon för att gå ombord där. Hennes projekter mot Neapel, som nu ryktades, hindrade henne från att ta den vanliga vägen via Savojen och Milano. Hon lämnade hertigen av Castelnuovo, som skulle representera henne i Paris, befordrad till överstallmästare i Monaldescos ställe. De franska galejerna, som skulle transportera förstärkningar till hertigen av Modena, transporterade också Kristina och hennes svit. Hon gick iland i Livorno och därifrån fortsatte hon till Lucca, där myndigheterna i den lilla Republiken, något generade av de kostnader hennes resa medförde, ändå gav henne ett magnifikt mottagande (Se för detaljer: CESARE SARDI, Cristina di Svezia in Lucca, Lucca, 1883.).

Den 7 maj mötte hon hertigen av Modena i Sassuolo och undertecknade med honom ett slags fördrag om invasionen av Neapel. Hertigen åtog sig formellt att med en kontingent trupper stödja den attack som Kristina skulle leda genom Abruzzerna, men han var noga med att lägga till vissa villkor som gör det svårt att tro att han tog det dokument som han undertecknade på allvar.

För det första måste landstigningen av franska trupper på de neapolitanska kusterna som Kristina lovade ha lyckats. Sedan måste hertigen själv försäkras mot varje attack från de spanska styrkorna i Milano. Slutligen måste Kristina från Heliga stolen erhålla fri passage för hertigens trupper genom de påvliga staterna. Först när dessa villkor, vars svårigheter han måste ha förstått väl, var uppfyllda skulle hertigen skicka sin kontingent på marschen, vars styrka han dessutom försummade att ange (Detta dokument nämns inte i den tidigare nämnda studien av Campori. Det finns i Modenas arkiv, bland drottningens brev. Det är undertecknat: CHRISTINA ALESSANDRA och FRANCESCO D'ESTE.).

Efter denna viktiga handling tog Kristina vägen tillbaka till Rom, dit hon anlände den 15 maj 1658 vid middagstid. Hon mottogs utan högtidlighet (»In forma privata.« Depesch från den venetianske ambassadören Angelo Correr, daterad den 18 maj 1658. Archivio di Stato, Venedig.) och begav sig för att bosätta sig i palatset Mazzarini (Nuvarande palatset Rospigliosi.) på torget Monte Cavallo, vilket kardinalen på hennes begäran hade ställt till hennes förfogande. Hertigen av Parma hade förklarat att han inte längre kunde ge henne Palazzo Farnese, som han själv kunde behöva för sina diplomatiska uppdrag (Hertigen av Parma till markisen di Felino, Parma, den 22 mars 1658. Azzolino-arkivet, kopia.).

English translation (my own):

VII
Kristina left Arcione on July 10, 1657, stopped for a day in Ferrara, and arrived in Modena on the 14th, where, however, she did not find the Duke, who was at the Siege of Alessandria. She left for Reggio on the 16th, passed quickly through Parma and Piacenza, stopped for three days, from the 28th to the 30th, at the court of Turin, and left Susa on August 1 to cross Mont Cenis. She stayed for some time in Lyons, where her entourage was augmented by an important figure, the historian Count Galleazzo Gualdo Priorato. From there, on August 25, she sent Count Ludovico Santinelli to the Duke of Modena, with a long letter in which she explained her plan of campaign. A few days later, we find her at Nevers, from where she sent her other captain of the guards, Tenderini, to deliver letters to Mazarin and the King, and to inform them of her projects. Finally, in October, she installed herself, while awaiting an invitation to the court, at the castle of Fontainebleau.

Her stay in this city was marked by great activity. She had called there her former secretary Appelman, now general intendant of the domains in Pomerania, to receive his instructions and then go once again to the King of Sweden, bearing the following proposals. The Queen desired above all that the King would give her, in exchange for the revenues of the island of Öland and the city of Norrköping, an annual income of 100,000 écus from the subsidies he expected to receive from France. This was a bit like selling the bear's skin before killing it, since it was very doubtful that France would find it in its interest to do so; but the Queen, who declared that the settlement of this matter was the principal purpose of her journey, made herself confident of overcoming the difficulty. She offered to negotiate the treaty between France and Sweden herself, and gave the impression that she would obtain exceptionally advantageous conditions.

At the same time, she demanded the formal cession of Sweden's rights to the remainder of the old subsidies (the 900,000 écus) and in exchange abandoned the claims against the Empire that she had reserved for herself at the abdication and of which she had received only 78,000 écus. Finally, she demanded compensation for all the damages that the war and the arbitrary administration of the Swedish government had caused her in the yield of her domains in Pomerania. Secretary Davisson was to accompany Appelman on his mission to Karl Gustav and return as soon as possible to bring Kristina the King's reply.

The Queen's agent in Holland, Silfvercrona, had also been called to Fontainebleau. He was to take care of clearing out the Queen's jewels, her library, etc., and to handle the sale in Holland of the grain that formed part of Kristina's income. All this gave rise to quite voluminous paperwork, especially since Kristina's provinces and domains had just come under the administration of a new governor general, Baron Seved Bååth. His predecessor, Baron Herman Fleming, had been relieved of his duties at his request shortly before the Queen's departure from Pesaro.

These preoccupations did not make Kristina forget to prepare for the Naples enterprise. Ludovico Santinelli had soon returned from his mission in Modena. She surrounded herself with Neapolitan refugees, one of the most important of whom, the Duke di Castelnuovo, was entering her service. She was already busy equipping her people, and her supplier, des Touschelles, had a lot to do. He delivered "forty suits of the same purple cloth for forty Swiss garments bedecked with crimson and white galloons trimmed with small goose feathers, stockings, shoes, shirts, collars, gauntlets, swords, baldric, and each a halberd", plus one hundred and two guards' cassocks and two trumpeters' suits. He also dressed twelve pages of the chamber and twelve pages of the stable, twenty-four valets de pied, three coachmen, twenty-four grooms, all in purple. For some, there was also a country livery of grey cloth.

The valet de chambre, Clairet Poissonnet, a trusted man who had entered Kristina's household before she renounced the throne and who was to spend his entire life in her service, was dressed in grey with gold galloons and black velvet. The chambermaids each received a complete trousseau. For her own person, the Queen ordered an entire and varied wardrobe. Among other things, there were six justaucorps of different colours and fabrics, each with a sword, a baldric, and two pairs of gloves, and "a pair of men's boots for mounting a horse".

Thus equipped, Kristina and her court were ready to march on Naples. All that was missing was to come to an agreement with Mazarin.

It was in the midst of these occupations and preparations, and while the Queen was waiting at Fontainebleau for the invitation to come to the court of France and an interview with Mazarin, that the tragic death of Monaldesco occurred on November 10, 1657. The circumstances of this event are too well known for me to undertake to repeat the details here. I will confine myself to relating the unknown or insufficiently known facts given by the documents.

Francesco Santinelli had, as we have seen, gone from Pesaro to Rome with a sum of money, which he was to use to clear the Queen's diamonds and to put in order the Palazzo Farnese, on which Kristina believed she could always count. In addition to this, he received more money from the Queen in Venice, Manoel Valensin, some money for this installation and was to take charge of all the effects that the Queen had left in Rome or that she had sent there from Pesaro upon her departure for France.

The confidence that Kristina had shown him was unfortunately undeserved. He did indeed clear the diamonds from the Marquis Palombara, but instead of handing them over, as agreed, to Cardinal Azzolino, he immediately re-pledged them to a Jew. The money he was to spend on the Palazzo remained in his own pocket, and, despite the assurances he had given the Queen, he had only obtained a small apartment for himself in the Palazzo. He claimed that his rank required that he keep a gentleman with him, whose wages he carried on the Queen's account, while this personage existed only on his bills.

Hoping that the immense disorder that reigned around Kristina would prevent any discovery, or allow him to shift the blame to someone else, he seized the silverware, replaced the Queen's coat of arms on the tableware with his own, sold dishes, plates and candelabra, and burned embroideries to extract the gold and silver. But all this was done, it seems, a little too openly, and a certain Peruzzi kept Monaldesco informed of what was happening.

If Monaldesco had been a frank and loyal man, he would have warned the Queen of these dilapidations, but, unfortunately for him, he was naturally inclined to cunning and expedients, and perhaps he even wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to accuse Santinelli of some more serious misdeeds. In any case, he wrote letters intended to fall into the Queen's hands, in which he forged Santinelli's handwriting, which must not have been very difficult for him, because their writings bore a great resemblance to each other.

Someone, moreover, at Kristina's court must have intercepted, or opened, the letters, because on the previous July 8 Lascaris had already asked the Queen to let him know if his letters reached her with the three seals intact, "because", he wrote, "the world is more curious than ever". As a precaution, he wrapped a letter from Azzolino with a light wire and sent it to her. A little later (October 15, 1657. Azzolino Archive.) the Queen had the postmaster of Lyons asked to give her letters to the courier himself, "without having them locked in his trunks", which would indicate that she wanted to protect herself against someone intercepting her letters upon arrival.

Furthermore, Kristina considered herself to have the right to open and read the letters of her people (During her stay in Hamburg, 1666-1668, the members of the suite were obliged to take precautions so that the Queen did not read the letters they received from Azzolino or addressed to him.), and she seems to have taken possession of those from Monaldesco.

Some light on the cause of the drama is provided by a letter that Kristina wrote, five days after Monaldesco's putting to death, to Francesco Santinelli. In it she says:

"I am sending you the relation of the death of Monaldesco, who betrayed me and wanted me to believe that you were the traitor. I had all the information necessary to prove the contrary, and I have not wanted to do you the wrong of believing from you the infamies of which I could not imagine that anyone other than him was capable.

It was convenient for me to pretend to believe what he wanted me to understand, because it was convenient to do so in order to justify you and punish him.

Finally he is dead, confessing his infamy and your innocence, protesting that he had invented all these chimeras to lose you.

Look at yourself in this example, and pray to God that He deprive you neither of brain nor of honour. Always act like a gentleman, and never do anything unworthy of that character.

Don't bother justifying my actions to anyone. I claim to give account of it only to God, who would have punished me if I had forgiven the traitor for his enormous crime. And may this be enough for you.

I know in my conscience that I have acted in accordance with divine and human justice and that I could not, nor should I, have done otherwise. And this is all I can say to you.

Stay in good humour while I do my best to give you the consolation you desire, and be certain that I will take your side."
Fontainebleau, November 15, 1657.

There are three misdeeds of which Monaldesco could have accused Santinelli: stealing from the Queen, denigrating her reputation and especially her relationship with Azzolino, and revealing the secret of her projects for Naples to the Spanish. Perhaps his accusations covered all three of these counts. But this is also an action that, according to the Queen, Monaldesco actually committed himself at the same time as he accused Santinelli. Monaldesco could not have taken part in the pillaging that Santinelli was carrying out in Rome.

It is also difficult to admit that he believed it was in his interest to spread slanderous rumours about the Queen's reputation, but he could have fabricated defamatory letters in the hope that they would be believed to come from Santinelli and that the discovery of his swindles would allow this new crime to be attributed to him.

The last explanation, that of clandestine relations with Spain, perfectly fulfills both required conditions, and it is also, in all respects, the most likely. Monaldesco may have accused Santinelli of this treason, and he may have himself revealed Kristina's machinations to the Spanish government.

The Queen's cruel vengeance is more easily understood, since she might have had an interest in shutting up a man who had been initiated into the secrets of her negotiations. This is also the explanation that appears to have been accepted in Paris.

The envoy of Modena, Ercole Manzieri, wrote to the Duke on November 16, 1657 (Archivio di Stato, Modena.), that Monaldesco was said to be delivering the Queen's secrets to Spain (Cardinal Azzolino later asserts the same thing. In a letter (ciphered) to Monsignor Marescotti, Nuncio in Poland, he wrote on 15 June 1669, during the negotiations for the election of Kristina to the throne of Poland: "The death of Monaldesco was caused by the discovery of his dreadful treason. He had revealed his most secret negotiations, of which he himself was then the intermediary with Cardinal Mazarin and with other people. This was proven by three witnesses and by means of his own letters intercepted by the Queen. He recognised them as his own and confessed his crime." — Marescotti Papers (No. 302), belonging to the heirs of Professor Costantino Corvisieri of Rome.). —

On the other hand, the Venetian ambassador wrote a few days later (Dispatch of November 20, 1657. Archivio di Stato. Venice. In a dispatch of January 29, 1658 (ibidem) Giustiniani wrote that a confidant of the Queen assured him that M. was put to death because he delivered the Queen's secrets to the Spanish and even treated with them to poison her.) that Monaldesco's death was caused by false letters written by him against the Queen's honour and reputation. Both hypotheses will remain in presence until one day indisputable documents come to provide us with the whole truth.

What is certain is that love had nothing to do with the death of the unfortunate equerry. It is a legend accredited by poets and novelists, and nothing else (Alexandre Dumas the father and the English poet Browning have occupied themselves with the drama of Fontainebleau. I confess that I have understood little of the latter's poem, except that the author knew nothing of the historical character of the characters he sang about.).

The most charitable interpretation that can be given to the Queen's bloodthirsty act is that it was inspired by fear. The dangers to which Monaldesco's conduct could have exposed him were not very serious, but neurotics are especially susceptible to fear for the safety of their person. Naturally inclined to make sudden decisions, they feel this tendency become even more pronounced under the influence of fear. Even gentle and hesitant natures then become cruel and inflexible, hypnotised by the terrible preoccupation with the ego, from which they cannot detach themselves.

Neurosis, selfishness, cruelty, all these things are linked and follow one another like the beads of a rosary. The fear of showing how afraid they have been is another characteristic of neuropaths. The more they have trembled, the more they like to act brave. Kristina's letters are a horrible example of this. A few years later, we will see her write to Cardinal Azzolino that the regency of Sweden wants to get rid of her by dagger or poison, and she will boast of her courage in braving these chimerical dangers.

Kristina's action can be explained, but it is difficult to justify it, and it will always remain a terrible stain on her memory. Monaldesco is certainly not a very sympathetic character, but Francesco Santinelli, his adversary, protected by Kristina, is even less so than he, and it is not the least reproach that can be made to the Queen to have immolated a victim to such a sad character.

Let us add, out of a duty of impartiality, that the Monaldesco family forgave the Queen. She was later in correspondence (In the Montpellier collection there is (VI, page 347) a letter from Kristina to Count Paolo Antonio Monaldesco, dated March 23, 1680. An antiquarian bookseller in Rome has assured me that he sold several others, a few years ago, to a collector of autographs.) with Count Paolo Antonio Monaldesco of Orvieto, whose daughter she married to one of her courtiers, the Marquis Gianmattia del Monte.

Kristina's visit had been an embarrassment to the court of France from the start. The murder of Monaldesco added to the climax. Indignant as well as embarrassed, Mazarin sent Chanut and the Abbé Ondedei to Fontainebleau (Dispatch from Francesco Giustiniani, November 20, 1657. Archivio di Stato, Venice.), to inform Kristina that it would be well if she tried to mask the truth by attributing the death of the unfortunate Marquis to a brawl that had broken out between her courtiers. But this showed a poor understanding of the Queen's character. Here are the replies Chanut and Mazarin received: I have scrupulously preserved the orthography, which adds a particular flavour to these notes, where cruelty and pride are intermingled. ...

All that Mazarin's envoys were able to achieve was the removal of Ludovico Santinelli and the two guards who had acted as executioner with him. Kristina was so little conscious of the horror her actions inspired that one month later she did not hesitate to ask Mazarin for a duchy for Francesco Santinelli, the murderer's brother (Annotation in the hand of His Eminence to the letter from the Queen of Sweden, dated December 18, 1657. Paris, Archive des Affaires Étrangères, Suède, volume XXII, page 488.).

It is quite natural that after this the little enthusiasm that the court of France had at first shown Kristina should have turned into coldness. So she was left at Fontainebleau until the end of February, when she was finally invited to come to Paris and took part in some festivities. It was then that she saw Louis XIV dance in the ballet "Alcibiade" by Benserade and Lully and was received by the French Academy. But the reception at court was limited to the strictest requirements of politeness. One is rarely welcome when one asks for money or when one proposes adventurous enterprises, and even less so if one violates at the same time the laws of hospitality and those of humanity. Kristina experienced this firsthand.

However, Mazarin had an interest in sparing her: firstly out of consideration for Karl Gustav (Mazarin wrote to Terlon on April 19, 1658: "Tell the King of Sweden that I have applied myself carefully and successfully to preventing this Queen from falling into his hands; that this has cost the King 80,000 écus." Ibidem, volume XXIII, page 244. GEFFROY, Recueil des Instructions, Suède, page 22.), then because the threat of an invasion of Naples, even if there was no intention of carrying it out, could still worry the Spanish (Mazarin to the Duke of Modena, Calais, on June 19, 1658. CAMPORI, op. cit., page 230.). He also continued to listen to the Queen's proposals both for the Naples affair and for the intervention of France in Kristina's financial arrangements with Karl Gustav, but he was very cautious in his promises and in his advances of money. He had declared to her, as soon as their relations resumed after the death of Monaldesco, that he would only undertake to pay her the equivalent of the income that she would abandon on her side to the King of Sweden ("Copy of the document given to the Queen of Sweden by Monseigneur the Cardinal at Petitbourg, November 30, 1657." Paris, Archive des Affaires Étrangères, Suède, Supplement XXII, page 435.).

Later, when Kristina informed him that Karl Gustav had indeed ceded Sweden's claims against France to her (Kristina to Mazarin, undated. Paris, Affaires Étrangères, Supplement XXII, Suède, page 436.), he confined himself to instructing a commission to examine the matter. The report of this commission, which included, among others, Chanut, Séguier, Servien and Foucquet, admitted of the Queen's pretension, which amounted in total to 993,445 écus, only a sum of 33,445 écus, and even then with certain reservations (Report of the commissioners, written by Chanut. Ibidem, XXIV, page 384.). The financial assistance that Kristina obtained was therefore not considerable. —

The encouragement for the Naples enterprise had the advantage of costing less, and the Cardinal seems to have lavished it on Kristina with more liberality than the écus. At least he let her leave firmly convinced that the troops and galleys of France would soon be fighting under his command, and that she would find in Naples "a great and glorious establishment" (Reply from Mazarin to a Memorandum from Kristina, 1657, undated. "If the enterprise succeeds, the King wants Kristina to reap the fruits and to find there a great and glorious establishment." Ibidem, XXII, page 379, minute.).

The Queen left Paris towards March 18 and, after stopping for a day at Fontainebleau, she headed via Lyons and Aix to Toulon to embark there. Her projects against Naples, now rumoured, prevented her from taking the usual route via Savoy and Milan. She left, to represent her in Paris, the Duke de Castelnuovo, promoted to grand equerry in place of Monaldesco. The French galleys, which were to carry some reinforcements to the Duke of Modena, also transported Kristina and her suite. She disembarked at Livorno, and from there went to Lucca, where the authorities of the small Republic, somewhat embarrassed by the expenses her passage occasioned, nevertheless gave her a magnificent reception (See for details: CESARE SARDI, Cristina di Svezia in Lucca, Lucca, 1883.).

On May 7, she met at Sassuolo with the Duke of Modena and signed with him a kind of treaty for the invasion of Naples. The Duke formally undertook to support with a contingent of troops the attack that Kristina was to lead through the Abruzzi, but he was careful to add certain conditions which make it difficult to believe that he took seriously the document to which he affixed his signature.

First, the landing of French troops on the Neapolitan coasts that Kristina promised had to have succeeded. Then the Duke himself had to be assured against any attack by the Spanish forces of Milan. Finally, Kristina had to obtain from the Holy See the free passage of the Duke's troops through the Pontifical States. Only when these conditions, the difficulties of which he must have understood well, were met would the Duke send his contingent on the march, the strength of which he neglected, moreover, to stipulate (This document is not mentioned in the aforementioned study by Campori. It is in the Archives of Modena, among the Queen's letters. It is signed: CHRISTINA ALESSANDRA and FRANCESCO D'ESTE.).

This important act accomplished, Kristina took the road back to Rome, where she arrived on May 15, 1658, at noon. She was received without solemnity ("In forma privata." Dispatch from the Venetian ambassador, Angelo Correr, dated May 18, 1658. Archivio di Stato, Venice.) and went to settle in the Palazzo Mazzarini (Currently the Palazzo Rospigliosi.), on the Square of Monte Cavallo, which the cardinal had, at her request, placed at her disposal. The Duke of Parma had declared that he could no longer give her the Palazzo Farnese, which he himself might need for his diplomatic missions (The Duke of Parma to the Marquis di Felino, Parma, March 22, 1658. Azzolino Archive, copy.).


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


Above: Baron Carl Bildt.

Notes: Bildt's comments on Kristina's letter to Santinelli:

"Stay in good humour while I do my best to give you the consolation you desire" = "Allusion à la demande de Christine d'un duché pour Santinelli. Voir p. 81." — "Allusion to Kristina's request for a duchy for Santinelli. See page 81."

"Traduction de la copie italienne du cod. 1579. Bibl. Angelica, Rome. Il y a d'autres copies aux Archives et à la Bibliothèque du Vatican, à la Bibliothèque Barberini, aux Archives Santa Croce à Rome et à la Bibliothèque nationale à Naples. Comme l'original n'a pas été retrouvé, il n'est pas permis de donner comme certaine l'authenticité de ces copies. Le style cependant en est bien celui de la Reine, et il n'y a pas de raison pour soupçonner une falsification. Un faussaire aurait probablement été plus explicite." — "Translation of the Italian copy of Cod. 1579., Biblioteca Angelica, Rome. There are other copies in the Vatican Archives and Library, the Barberini Library, the Santa Croce Archives in Rome, and the National Library in Naples. As the original has not been found, it is not possible to give as certainty the authenticity of these copies. The style, however, is clearly that of the Queen, and there is no reason to suspect a forgery. A forger would probably have been more explicit."