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.
“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.”
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.
“Who is this daughter of Gustavus?” asked the old man. “We do not know her. Let her be shown to us.”
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?
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.
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.
“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!”
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.
“Long live Christina, Queen of Sweden!” shouted they.