But after she began to make her court a sort of home for art and letters it ceased to be the sort of court that Sweden was prepared for.  Christina’s subjects were still rude and lacking in accomplishments; therefore she had to summon men of genius from other countries, especially from France and Italy.  Many of these were illustrious artists or scholars, but among them were also some who used their mental gifts for harm.

Among these latter was a French physician named Bourdelot—­a man of keen intellect, of winning manners, and of a profound cynicism, which was not apparent on the surface, but the effect of which last lasting.  To Bourdelot we must chiefly ascribe the mysterious change which gradually came over Queen Christina.  With his associates he taught her a distaste for the simple and healthy life that she had been accustomed to lead.  She ceased to think of the welfare of the state and began to look down with scorn upon her unsophisticated Swedes.  Foreign luxury displayed itself at Stockholm, and her palaces overflowed with beautiful things.

By subtle means Bourdelot undermined her principles.  Having been a Stoic, she now became an Epicurean.  She was by nature devoid of sentiment.  She would not spend her time in the niceties of love-making, as did Elizabeth; but beneath the surface she had a sort of tigerish, passionate nature, which would break forth at intervals, and which demanded satisfaction from a series of favorites.  It is probable that Bourdelot was her first lover, but there were many others whose names are recorded in the annals of the time.

When she threw aside her virtue Christina ceased to care about appearances.  She squandered her revenues upon her favorites.  What she retained of her former self was a carelessness that braved the opinion of her subjects.  She dressed almost without thought, and it is said that she combed her hair not more than twice a month.  She caroused with male companions to the scandal of her people, and she swore like a trooper when displeased.

Christina’s philosophy of life appears to have been compounded of an almost brutal licentiousness, a strong love of power, and a strange, freakish longing for something new.  Her political ambitions were checked by the rising discontent of her people, who began to look down upon her and to feel ashamed of her shame.  Knowing herself as she did, she did not care to marry.

Yet Sweden must have an heir.  Therefore she chose out her cousin Charles, declared that he was to be her successor, and finally caused him to be proclaimed as such before the assembled estates of the realm.  She even had him crowned; and finally, in her twenty-eighth year, she abdicated altogether and prepared to leave Sweden.  When asked whither she would go, she replied in a Latin quotation: 

“The Fates will show the way.”

In her act of abdication she reserved to herself the revenues of some of the richest provinces in Sweden and absolute power over such of her subjects as should accompany her.  They were to be her subjects until the end.