The Comte de Fersen,[73] whose physical advantages and lucky star had placed him in such high favour at the Court of France, came to fetch us, ‘my father’ [the Marquis de Chambonas, who had adopted the author] and me, to escort us to Drotningholm. Before proceeding thither, he had to take on his way the Comte de Paar, his fellow-umpire at the tournament, who, in virtue of being a ‘Gentleman of the Chamber,’ had been present at the rehearsal of a ballet to be given on that very evening for the first time at the opera. No sooner had we reached the doors of the magnificent structure, due to Gustavus III.‘s love of art, than we were conducted to a room preceding the royal box, where a collation was awaiting us. It was there that Gustavus-Adolphus supped when he came to the theatre, and that, divesting himself of all his royal prerogatives, he became the equal of his friends. In tragic contrast with the rest of the magnificent and sumptuous furniture, with all those gold, silken, and alabaster decorations, one could not help noticing a crimson velvet couch with stains all over it. It was on this couch that Gustavus-Adolphus III. had been laid during the night of the 16th March 1792, after the exploit of Ankarstroem. The blood from his wound had practically soaked the material. Though it would have been extremely simple to remove the piece of furniture, thus effacing the trace of a crime committed in a place devoted to pleasure, the king, from motives it was not easy to guess, had insisted upon the couch remaining there, perhaps as an object lesson or merely as a remembrance.[74]
The Comte de Paar soon joined us, and shortly afterwards we were on our way to the Queen’s demesne, about four leagues from Stockholm. Numerous carriages were performing the same journey, and they rendered the picturesque Swedish country road more animated than usual.
A dense crowd had gathered since early morning around the castle, blocking up every approach to it. They were on foot, on horseback, and in every kind of conveyance; nevertheless, most admirable order prevailed throughout. Two Uhlans of the Guards and an equerry were waiting for the Comte de Fersen, who, in virtue of his functions as an umpire, was to preside at the fête.
At a little distance from the castle, in a pretty valley overlooked by wooded heights, a circus had been erected, with galleries capable of holding about four thousand spectators. Its floor had disappeared beneath a thick layer of the finest sand, and high and strong palisades surrounded it on every side. The women, in their richest apparel, were almost without exception remarkable for the beauty peculiar to their sisters of northern climes. The men were in uniform or in Court dress. A cloak of black silk lined with crimson satin was considered tantamount to gala vesture. The grandees of the kingdom had all donned the dresses connected with their functions. Stands, draped with satin, and displaying the three crowns of Sweden, were set apart for the ambassadors. The ring was hung with Swedish standards. At one end of the building was the pavilion for the queen and her ladies of honour, particularly noticeable for the coquettish mingling of its decorations, consisting of flowers, weapons, and flags, intertwined with simple and genuine elegance. Dupré, the French architect, one of the most celebrated decorators of Europe, had superintended all the arrangements.
At regular distances there were columns, from some of which were suspended the rings for the games, while others supported the Turks’ heads to be slashed at by the competitors. The banners of the knights selected to dispute the prize were first borne in procession around the arena, then fixed against the different barriers of the ring.
Before leaving us Comte de Fersen had introduced us to his friend, M. de Rozen, a young man who had taken part in the previous carrousel, and who was, therefore, in a position to give us full particulars of the present one. The various emblems and mottoes of the banners and scutcheons were as ingenious as they were instructive in the true spirit of chivalry. Among many I cite the following:—
A sword on a field azure.
Motto—‘Je pars, je brille, je frappe.’
(I go, I shine, I strike.)
A lion on a field starred.
‘La valeur soumet les astres.’
(Valour subjugates the stars.)
A fire burning on an altar.
‘Ce qui est pur est éternel.’
(The pure lasts for ever.)
An ermine climbing a steep height.
‘Tâche sans tache.’
(Try but keep stainless.)
Finally, another shield, checkered red and yellow, was that of Tonin, the jester of the late king. His motto, though, would have given no clue to that effect.
It ran:
‘Tout par raison,
Raison par tout,
Partout raison.’
(Every thing through reason,
Reason in every thing,
Everywhere reason.)