</h3>
<p>
Hitherto Mr. Temple’s narratives had all been about boys and men. But, the
next evening, he bethought himself that the quiet little Emily would
perhaps be glad to hear the story of a child of her own sex. He therefore
resolved to narrate the youthful adventures of Christina, of Sweden, who
began to be a queen at the age of no more than six years. If we have any
little girls among our readers, they must not suppose that Christina is
set before them as a pattern of what they ought to be. On the contrary,
the tale of her life is chiefly profitable as showing the evil effects of
a wrong education, which caused this daughter of a king to be both useless
and unhappy. Here follows the story.
</p>
<p>
<br /><br /><br /> <a name="christina"></a>
</p>
<h3>
QUEEN CHRISTINA.
</h3>
<h4>
[BORN 1626 DIED 1689]
</h4>
<p>
In the royal palace at Stockholm, the capital city of Sweden, there was
horn, in 1626, a little princess. The king, her father; gave her the name
of Christina, in memory of a Swedish girl with whom he had been in love.
His own name was Gustavus Adolphus; and he was also called the Lion of the
North, because he had gained greater fame in war than any other prince or
general then alive.
</p>
<p>
With this valiant king for their commander, the Swedes had made themselves
terrible to the Emperor of Germany and to the king of France, and were
looked upon as the chief defence of the Protestant religion.
</p>
<p>
The little Christina was by no means a beautiful child. To confess the
truth, she was remarkably plain. The queen, her mother, did not love her
so much as she ought; partly, perhaps, on account of Christina’s want of
beauty, and also because both the king and queen had wished for a son, who
might have gained as great renown in battle as his father had.
</p>
<p>
The king, however, soon became exceedingly fond of the infant princess.
When Christina was very young she was taken violently sick. Gustavus
Adolphus, who was several hundred miles from Stockholm, travelled night
and day, and never rested until he held the poor child in his arms. On her
recovery he made a solemn festival, in order to show his joy to the people
of Sweden and express his gratitude to Heaven. After this event he took
his daughter with him in all the journeys which he made throughout his
kingdom.
</p>
<p>
Christina soon proved herself a bold and sturdy little girl. When she was
two years old, the king and herself, in the course of a journey, came to
the strong fortress of Colmar. On the battlements were soldiers clad in
steel armor, which glittered in the sunshine. There were likewise great
cannons, pointing their black months at Gustavus and little Christina, and
ready to belch out their smoke and thunder; for, whenever a king enters a
fortress, it is customary to receive him with a royal salute of artillery.
</p>
<p>
But the captain of the fortress met Gustavus and his daughter as they were
about to enter the gateway.
</p>
<p>
“May it please your Majesty,” said he, taking off his steel cap and bowing
profoundly, “I fear that, if we receive you with a salute of cannon, the
little princess will be frightened almost to death.”
</p>
<p>
Gustavus looked earnestly at his daughter, and was indeed apprehensive
that the thunder of so many cannon might perhaps throw her into
convulsions. He had almost a mind to tell the captain to let them enter
the fortress quietly, as common people might have done, without all this
head-splitting racket. But no; this would not do.
</p>
<p>
“Let them fire,” said he, waving his hand. “Christina is a soldier’s
daughter, and must learn to bear the noise of cannon.”
</p>
<p>
So the captain uttered the word of command, and immediately there was a
terrible peal of thunder from the cannon, and such a gush of smoke that it
enveloped the whole fortress in its volumes. But, amid all the din and
confusion, Christina was seen clapping her little hands and laughing in an
ecstasy of delight. Probably nothing ever pleased her father so much as to
see that his daughter promised to be fearless as himself. He determined to
educate her exactly as if she had been a boy, and to teach her all the
knowledge needful to the ruler of a kingdom and the commander of an army.
</p>
<p>
But Gustavus should have remembered that Providence had created her to be
a woman, and that it was not for him to make a man of her.
</p>
<p>
However, the king derived great happiness from his beloved Christina. It
must have been a pleasant sight to see the powerful monarch of Sweden
playing in some magnificent hall of the palace with his merry little girl.
Then he forgot that the weight of a kingdom rested upon his shoulders. He
forgot that the wise Chancellor Oxenstiern was waiting to consult with him
how to render Sweden the greatest nation of Europe. He forgot that the
Emperor of Germany and the King of France were plotting together how they
might pull him down from his throne.
</p>
<p>
Yes; Gustavus forgot all the perils, and cares, and pompous irksomeness of
a royal life; and was as happy, while playing with his child, as the
humblest peasant in the realm of Sweden. How gayly did they dance along
the marble floor of the palace, this valiant king, with his upright,
martial figure, his war-worn visage, and commanding aspect, and the small,
round form of Christina, with her rosy face of childish merriment! Her
little fingers were clasped in her father’s hand, which had held the
leading staff in many famous victories. His crown and sceptre were her
playthings. She could disarm Gustavus of his sword, which was so terrible
to the princes of Europe.
</p>
<p>
But, alas! the king was not long permitted to enjoy Christina’s society.
When she was four years old Gustavus was summoned to take command of the
allied armies of Germany, which were fighting against the emperor. His
greatest affliction was the necessity of parting with his child; but
people in such high stations have but little opportunity for domestic
happiness. He called an assembly of the senators of Sweden and confided
Christina to their care, saying, that each one of them must be a father to
her if he himself should fall in battle.
</p>
<p>
At the moment of his departure Christina ran towards him and began to
address him with a speech which somebody had taught her for the occasion.
Gustavus was busied with thoughts about the affairs of the kingdom, so
that he did not immediately attend to the childish voice of his little
girl. Christina, who did not love to be unnoticed, immediately stopped
short and pulled him by the coat.
</p>
<p>
“Father,” said she, “why do not you listen to my speech?”
</p>
<p>
In a moment the king forgot everything except that, he was parting with
what he loved best in all the world. He caught the child in his arms,
pressed her to his bosom, and burst into tears. Yes; though he was a brave
man, and though he wore a steel corselet on his breast, and though armies
were waiting for him to lead them to battle, still his heart melted within
him, and he wept. Christina, too, was so afflicted that her attendants
began to fear that she would actually die of grief. But probably she was
soon comforted; for children seldom remember their parents quite so
faithfully as their parents remember them.
</p>
<p>
For two years more Christina remained in the palace at Stockholm. The
queen, her mother, had accompanied Gustavus to the wars. The child,
therefore, was left to the guardianship of five of the wisest men in the
kingdom. But these wise men knew better how to manage the affairs of state
than how to govern and educate a little girl so as to render her a good
and happy woman.
</p>
<p>
When two years had passed away, tidings were brought to Stockholm which
filled everybody with triumph and sorrow at the same time. The Swedes had
won a glorious victory at Lutzen. But, alas! the warlike King of Sweden,
the Lion of the North, the father of our little Christina, had been slain
at the foot of a great stone, which still marks the spot of that hero’s
death.
</p>
<p>
Soon after this sad event, a general assembly, or congress, consisting of
deputations from the nobles, the clergy, the burghers, and the peasants of
Sweden, was summoned to meet at Stockholm. It was for the purpose of
declaring little Christina to be Queen of Sweden and giving her the crown
and sceptre of her deceased father. Silence being proclaimed, the
Chancellor Oxenstiern arose.
</p>
<p>
“We desire to know,” said he, “whether the people of Sweden will take the
daughter of our dead king, Gustavus Adolphus, to be their queen.”
</p>
<p>
When the chancellor had spoken, an old man, with white hair and in coarse
apparel, stood up in the midst of the assembly. He was a peasant, Lars
Larrson by name, and had spent most of his life in laboring on a farm.
</p>
<p>
“Who is this daughter of Gustavus?” asked the old man. “We do not know
her. Let her be shown to us.”
</p>
<p>
Then Christina was brought into the hall and placed before the old
peasant. It was strange, no doubt, to see a child—a little girl of
six years old—offered to the Swedes as their ruler instead of the
brave king, her father, who had led then to victory so many times. Could
her baby fingers wield a sword in war? Could her childish mind govern the
nation wisely in peace?
</p>
<p>
But the Swedes do not appear to have asked themselves these questions. Old
Lars Larrson took Christina up in his arms and gazed earnestly into her
face.
</p>
<p>
He had known the great Gustavus well; and his heart was touched when he
saw the likeness which the little girl bore to that heroic monarch.
</p>
<p>
“Yes,” cried he, with the tears gushing down his furrowed cheeks; “this is
truly the daughter of our Gustavus! Here is her father’s brow!—here
is his piercing eye! She is his very picture! This child shall be our
queen!”
</p>
<p>
Then all the proud nobles of Sweden, and the reverend clergy, and the
burghers, and the peasants, knelt down at the child’s feet and kissed her
hand.
</p>
<p>
“Long live Christina, Queen of Sweden!” shouted they.
</p>
<p>
Even after she was a woman grown Christina remembered the pleasure which
she felt in seeing all of hose men at her feet and hearing them
acknowledge her as their supreme ruler. Poor child! she was yet to learn
that power does not insure happiness. As yet, however, she had not any
real power. All the public business, it is true, was transacted in her
name; but the kingdom was governed by a number of the most experienced
statesmen, who were called a regency.
</p>
<p>
But it was considered necessary that the little queen, should be present
at the public ceremonies, and should behave just as if she were in reality
the ruler of the nation. When she was seven years of age, some ambassadors
from the Czar of Muscovy came to the Swedish court. They wore long beards,
and were clad in a strange fashion, with furs and other outlandish
ornaments; and as they were inhabitants of a half-civilized country, they
did not behave like other people. The Chancellor Oxenstiern was afraid
that the young queen would burst out a laughing at the first sight of
these queer ambassadors, or else that she would be frightened by their
unusual aspect.
</p>
<p>
“Why should I be frightened?” said the little queen. “And do you suppose
that I have no better manners than to laugh? Only tell me how I must
behave, and I will do it.”
</p>
<p>
Accordingly, the Muscovite ambassadors were introduced; and Christina
received them and answered their speeches with as much dignity and
propriety as if sho had been a grown woman.
</p>
<p>
All this time, though Christina was now a queen, you must not suppose that
she was left to act as she pleased. She had a preceptor, named John
Mathias, who was a very learned man and capable of instructing her in all
the branches of science. But there was nobody to teach her the delicate
graces and gentle virtues of a woman. She was surrounded almost entirely
by men, and had learned to despise the society of her own sex. At the age
of nine years she was separated from her mother, whom the Swedes did not
consider a proper person to be intrusted with the charge of her. No little
girl who sits by a New England fireside has cause to envy Christina in the
royal palace at Stockholm.
</p>
<p>
Yet she made great progress in her studies. She learned to read the
classical authors of Greece and Rome, and became a great admirer of the
heroes and poets of old times. Then, as for active exercises, she could
ride on horseback as well as any man in her kingdom. She was fond of
hunting, and could shoot at a mark with wonderful skill. But dancing was
the only feminine accomplishment with which she had any acquaintance.
</p>
<p>
She was so restless in her disposition that none of her attendants were
sure of a moment’s quiet neither day nor night. She grew up, I am sorry to
say, a very unamiable person, ill-tempered, proud, stubborn, and, in
short, unfit to make those around her happy or to be happy herself. Let
every little girl, who has been taught self-control and a due regard for
the rights of others, thank Heaven that she has had better instruction
than this poor little Queen of Sweden.
</p>
<p>
At the age of eighteen Christina was declared free to govern the kingdom
by herself without the aid of a regency. At this period of her life she
was a young woman of striking aspect, a good figure, and intelligent face,
but very strangely dressed. She wore a short habit of gray cloth, with a
man’s vest over it, and a black scarf around her neck; but no jewels nor
ornaments of any kind.
</p>
<p>
Yet, though Christina was so negligent of her appearance, there was
something in her air and manner that proclaimed her as the ruler of a
kingdom. Her eyes, it is said, had a very fierce and haughty look. Old
General Wrangel, who had often caused the enemies of Sweden to tremble in
battle, actually trembled himself when he encountered the eyes of the
queen. But it would have been better for Christina if she could have made
people love her, by means of soft and gentle looks, instead of affrighting
them by such terrible glances.
</p>
<p>
And now I have told you almost all that is amusing or instructive in the
childhood of Christina. Only a few more words need be said about her; for
it is neither pleasant nor profitable to think of many things that she did
after she grew to be a woman.
</p>
<p>
When she had worn the crown a few years, she began to consider it beneath
her dignity to be called a queen, because the name implied that she
belonged to the weaker sex. She therefore caused herself to be proclaimed
KING; thus declaring to the world that she despised her own sex and was
desirous of being ranked among men. But in the twenty-eighth year of her
age Christina grew tired of royalty, and resolved to be neither a king nor
a queen any longer. She took the crown from her head with her own hands,
and ceased to be the ruler of Sweden. The people did not greatly regret
her abdication; for she had governed them ill, and had taken much of their
property to supply her extravagance.
</p>
<p>
Having thus given up her hereditary crown, Christina left Sweden and
travelled over many of the countries of Europe. Everywhere she was
received with great ceremony, because she was the daughter of the renowned
Gustavus, and had herself been a powerful queen. Perhaps you would like to
know something about her personal appearance in the latter part of time
life. She is described as wearing a man’s vest, a short gray petticoat,
embroidered with gold and silver, and a black wig, which was thrust awry
upon her head. She wore no gloves, and so seldom washed her hands that
nobody could fell what had been their original color. In this strange
dress, and, I suppose, without washing her hands or face, she visited the
magnificent court of Louis XIV.
</p>
<p>
She died in 1689. None loved her while she lived, nor regretted her death,
nor planted a single flower upon her grave. Happy are the little girls of
America, who are brought up quietly and tenderly at the domestic hearth,
and thus become gentle and delicate women! May none of them ever lose the
loveliness of their sex by receiving such an education as that of Queen
Christina!
</p>
<p>
Emily, timid, quiet, and sensitive, was the very reverse of little
Christina. She seemed shocked at the idea of such a bold and masculine
character as has been described in the foregoing story.
</p>
<p>
“I never could have loved her,” whispered she to Mrs. Temple; and then she
added, with that love of personal neatness which generally accompanies
purity of heart, “It troubles me to think of her unclean hands!”
</p>
<p>
“Christina was a sad specimen of womankind indeed,” said Mrs. Temple. “But
it is very possible for a woman to have a strong mind, and to be fitted
for the active business of life, without losing any of her natural
delicacy. Perhaps some time or other Mr. Temple will tell you a story of
such a woman.”
</p>
<p>
It was now time for Edward to be left to repose. His brother George shook
him heartily by the hand, and hoped, as he had hoped twenty times before,
that tomorrow or the next day Ned’s eyes would be strong enough to look
the sun right in the face.
</p>
<p>
“Thank you, George,” replied Edward, smiling; “but I am not half so
impatient as at first. If my bodily eyesight were as good as yours,
perhaps I could not see things so distinctly with my mind’s eye. But now
there is a light within which shows me the little Quaker artist, Ben West,
and Isaac Newton with his windmill, and stubborn Sam Johnson, and stout
Noll Cromwell, and shrewd Ben Franklin, and little Queen Christina, with
the Swedes kneeling at her feet. It seems as if I really saw these
personages face to face. So I can bear the darkness outside of me pretty
well.”
</p>
<p>
When Edward ceased speaking, Emily put up her mouth and kissed him as her
farewell for the night.
</p>
<p>
“Ah, I forgot!” said Edward, with a sigh. “I cannot see any of your faces.
What would it signify to see all the famous people in the world, if I must
be blind to the faces that I love?”
</p>
<p>
“You must try to see us with your heart, my dear child,” said his mother.
</p>
<p>
Edward went to bed somewhat dispirited; but, quickly falling asleep, was
visited with such a pleasant dream of the sunshine and of his dearest
friends that he felt the happier for it all the next day. And we hope to
find him still happy when we meet again.
</p>
<p>
<br /><br /><br /><br />
</p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
End of Project Gutenberg’s Biographical Stories, by Nathaniel Hawthorne