Desiree

by Annemarie Selinko

‘I should like to feel that you are going to ponder my words and act accordingly, dear daughter,’ said the frigid voice of the Queen.

  ‘I am pondering them at this very moment.’

  ‘You must never for a moment forget the position of our dear son, the Crown Prince, Madame,’ concluded the Queen.

  At that my patience gave out. ‘Your Majesty has just reproached me for not forgetting who and what my dead father was. Now you admonish me not to forget my husband’s position. I should like you to know once and for all that I never forget anything or anybody!’

  Without waiting for a sign from the Queen I got up. To the devil with etiquette! I bowed whilst the three ladies sat more stiffly than ever. ‘Madame, in my home town of Marseilles the mimosas are in blossom now. As soon as it is a little warmer I shall go back to France.’

  That went home. All three of them were startled. The Queen stared at me in fright, the goat with incredulity, and even the Dowager Queen’s face registered surprise.

  ‘You are going – back?’ the Queen brought out at last. ‘When did you decide on that step, dear daughter?’

  ‘At this moment, Your Majesty.’

  ‘It is politically unwise, very unwise, surely. You must speak to the Crown Prince about it,’ she said hastily.

  ‘I never do anything without my husband’s consent.’

  ‘And where are you going to reside in Paris, Madame?’ asked the goat in agitation. ‘You have no palace there, have you?’

  ‘I’ve never had a palace there. We kept our home in the Rue d’Anjou, an ordinary house, certainly not a castle, but very prettily furnished. I don’t need a castle, I’m not used to living in castles, and, Madame, I even hate castles!’

  The Queen had regained her composure. ‘Your country house near Paris would perhaps be a more adequate residence for the Crown Princess of Sweden.’

  ‘You mean La Grange? But we sold La Grange and all our other estates to pay Sweden’s foreign debts. They were considerable, Madame.’

  She bit her lips, then said quickly: ‘Crown Princess Desideria of Sweden in an ordinary Parisian dwelling house? No, impossible. Moreover—’

  ‘I shall discuss it with my husband. By the way, I don’t intend to travel under the name of Desideria of Sweden.’ I felt tears coming into my eyes. ‘Oh, no tears now,’ I said to myself, ‘don’t give them that pleasure.’ Throwing back my head I said: ‘Desideria, the longed-for one! I should like to ask Your Majesty to find an incognito for me. May I retire now?’ And I banged the door behind me so that it resounded through the marble halls, as it did once in Rome, in the first castle to which the winds of Fate had carried me …

  From the Queen’s drawing-room I went straight to Jean-Baptiste’s study. In the ante-chamber one of the lords-in-waiting barred my way. ‘May I announce Your Royal Highness?’

  ‘No, thank you. I am used to entering my husband’s room without previous announcement.’

  ‘But I am compelled to announce Your Highness,’ he insisted.

  ‘Who compels you? His Royal Highness perhaps?’

  ‘Etiquette, Your Highness. For centuries—’

  I pushed him aside, and my touch made him start as if he had been stung. I laughed. ‘Never mind, Baron, I shall not prevent you from upholding etiquette much longer.’ I entered Jean-Baptiste’s study.

  He was sitting at his desk, studying documents and listening to the Chancellor Wetterstedt and two other gentlemen at the same time. A green eyeshade covered the upper half of his face. I had learnt from Fernand that his eyes had suffered because the early darkness here forces him to work most of the time in artificial light. His usual working hours were from half-past nine in the morning to three o’clock the next morning, and his eyes always looked badly inflamed. But only the gentlemen of his immediate surroundings knew of this eyeshade. It had been kept a secret from me so that I shouldn’t worry. I wasn’t surprised, therefore, that he took it off as soon as I came in.

  ‘Has anything happened, Désirée?’

  ‘No. I only wanted to speak to you.’

  ‘Are you in a hurry?’

  ‘No. I shall sit down somewhere and wait till you’ve finished.’

  I pulled an arm-chair towards the big round stove and warmed myself. At first I heard snatches of what Jean-Baptiste said. ‘We must realise that the Swedish currency is at the present moment the weakest in Europe.’ And: ‘I will not spend our few English pounds, which we earn with such difficulty through our secret trade with Britain, on unnecessary imports.’ Or: ‘But I am forced to intervene, I am sacrificing my whole private fortune to stabilise the rate of exchange, I am to mobilise and yet cannot take men away from our steel mills and saw mills, and I must provide artillery, or do you believe that one can win battles with sword and shield nowadays?’

  Later I began to bring order into my own thoughts, then felt quite certain that I was right and grew calm. But it made me sad, very sad.

  Jean-Baptiste had forgotten my presence and put his eyeshade on again, peering at a document. It concerned an incident, I heard Jean-Baptiste point out, which he considered very important. We had arrested some British sailors in Hälsingborg and the British had arrested three Swedes just to show Napoleon that we were at war with each other, and now a British diplomatist, a Mr Thornton, had been sent to us to settle the exchange of the prisoners with the man in charge of this affair on our side, a Mr Engström. But Jean-Baptiste also wanted the Russian Ambassador in Stockholm, Suchtelen, to take part in these negotiations. Why was that? I wondered. Did Jean-Baptiste want to bring about secretly an understanding between the Russians and the British, the enemies of France? Nominally the Tsar was still Napoleon’s ally, but he had started to prepare for war, and Napoleon was massing troops in Pomerania and Poland.

  ‘Perhaps one could use this opportunity to talk about Finland with Suchtelen,’ one of the gentlemen was saying now.

  Jean-Baptiste sighed, irritated. ‘You always hark back to that. You bore the Tsar and—’ He interrupted himself. ‘I am sorry, gentlemen. I know what Finland means to you. I shall take it up with Suchtelen and I shall mention it in my next letter to the Tsar. We shall continue to-morrow. Good night, gentlemen.’

  The gentlemen bowed themselves out backwards to the door. Jean-Baptiste took off the eyeshade and closed his eyes. His face reminded me of Oscar’s when he was asleep: tired and contented. He loves governing, I thought. Most likely he governs well, too.

  ‘Well, little girl, what is it?’

  ‘I am going, Jean-Baptiste. In summer, when the roads are better I am going home, dearest,’ I said very gently.

  He opened his eyes. ‘Have you gone crazy? Here is your home, here in the royal castle of Stockholm. In summer we are moving to Drottningholm, a beautiful country residence with a big park. You will like it there very much.’

  ‘But I must go,’ I insisted. ‘It’s the best thing to do.’ I repeated my conversation with the Queen word for word, and he listened in silence. The frown on his forehead grew deeper and deeper till he exploded: ‘What I have to listen to! Her Majesty and Her Royal Highness do not get on well with each other! Incidentally, the Queen is right, you do not always behave like a – as the Swedish court expects you to. You will learn that all right, why shouldn’t you? But, God knows, I cannot possibly concern myself with these things now. Have you any idea at all what is happening in the world? And what is going to happen in the next few years?’

  He rose to his feet and came towards me. ‘Our existence is at stake,’ he said in a voice hoarse with agitation, ‘the existence of the whole of Europe. Napoleon’s European bloc is tottering, the South doesn’t give him a minute’s rest, in Germany his opponents have established secret alliances, while his soldiers are being ambushed almost every day, and in the North—’ He broke off, chewing his lower lip. ‘As the Emperor can no longer rely on the Tsar he is going to invade Russia. Do you understand what that means?’

  I shrugged my shoulders. ‘He’s invaded and subjug
ated so many countries. We know him.

  Jean-Baptiste nodded. ‘Yes, we know him. The Swedish Crown Prince knows him better than anybody else. And for that reason the Tsar of all the Russias will come to the Crown Prince of Sweden for advice in his hour of need. And when the conquered countries unite in a new coalition under the leadership of Russia and Britain, they will come to Sweden and demand a decision from us, are we for Napoleon or against him?’

  ‘Against him? That would mean that you—’ I didn’t finish the sentence.

  ‘No, it would not. Napoleon and France are not the same thing. Have not been the same thing since the days of Brumaire, the days which neither he nor I have forgotten. That is why he concentrates troops on the frontiers of Swedish Pomerania too. If he wins the war against Russia he will simply trample Sweden under foot and put one of his brothers on the throne. But as long as the Russian campaign lasts he wants to have my support. At the moment he is bidding for it, offers me Finland and wants to put in a good word with the Tsar on our behalf. As far as appearances go the Tsar is still his ally after all.’

  ‘But you said that the Tsar will never part with Finland?’

  ‘Of course not. But the Swedes cannot get used to that idea. However, I shall compensate them for the loss of Finland.’ Quite unexpectedly a smile appeared on his face. ‘Once Napoleon is beaten and the great cleaning up in Europe begins Napoleon’s most loyal ally, Denmark, will have to pay a price. The Tsar will suggest to Denmark the cession of Norway to Sweden. And that, my little girl, is written not only in the stars but right across the map of Europe.’

  ‘Napoleon isn’t beaten yet. Besides, you are saying all the time that the fate of Sweden is at stake, and you don’t want to see that for that very reason I must go back to Paris.’

  He sighed. ‘If you knew how tired I am you would not be so obstinate about this. I cannot let you go. You are the Crown Princess here, and that is the end of it.’

  ‘Here I can only do harm, but in Paris I can do a lot of good. I’ve thought it all out.’

  ‘Don’t be childish! What can you do? Spying on the Emperor for me? I have my own spies in Paris, you can be sure of that. I could tell you, for instance, that Talleyrand corresponds secretly not only with the Bourbons but also with me.’

  ‘I don’t want to do any spying. But, when the great cleaning up, as you call it, comes, all Napoleon’s brothers will be chased from their thrones. France was a Republic before Napoleon made himself Emperor, and even if Talleyrand corresponds with the Bourbons, they can’t force France to recall them.’

  Jean-Baptiste shrugged his shoulders. ‘You can be sure that the old royal families stick together, and they will certainly try it. But what has it to do with us, with you and me?’

  ‘If that is so, the old royal families will also try to exclude the former Jacobin General Bernadotte from the Swedish succession. And who is going to stand by you then?’

  ‘I cannot do more than serve the interests of Sweden with all my strength. Every penny I have saved I am putting into this country to get it on its feet, and I am thinking of nothing but of ways and means of preserving Sweden’s independence. If I succeed, Désirée, then the Swedish-Norwegian union will materialise as a matter of course.’ He was leaning against the stove and covering his inflamed eyes with his hand. ‘Nobody can ask more than that of any human being. As long as Europe needs me to fight Napoleon, Europe will protect me. But does one know who is going to stand by me, afterwards, Désirée?’

  ‘The people of Sweden, Jean-Baptiste, the people only, but they are what matters. Hold on to the Swedes who called you in.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I am only the wife of a man who is probably a genius and not that Desideria for whom the Swedish nobility longed. I am doing harm to your prestige. The aristocracy pokes fun at me, and the ordinary Swedes when it comes to taking sides prefer their aristocracy to a foreigner. Let me go, Jean-Baptiste. It will make your position stronger.’ I felt a sad smile creep over my face. ‘After the King’s next stroke you’ll be made Regent. You can pursue your policy better once you take over the Regency. It’ll be easier for you without me, darling.’

  ‘It sounds very reasonable, my girl, but no, no! To begin with, I cannot send the Swedish Crown Princess to Paris to be Napoleon’s convenient hostage. My decisions would be influenced if I knew you to be in danger all the time and—’

  ‘Really? But didn’t you ask the Council of State shortly after your arrival here not to be influenced in any way by consideration of what is dearest to you in this life? At that time Oscar and I were still on French territory. No, Jean-Baptiste, you must not take us into consideration. If you want the Swedes to stand by you, you must stand by them.’ I took his hand, pulled him down to the arm of my chair and sat close to him. ‘Besides, do you really believe that Napoleon would ever arrest his brother Joseph’s sister-in-law? Very unlikely, isn’t it? He knows you, and he knows therefore that that would lead to nothing. Didn’t he give me a sable fur at the same time that he received an unaccommodating letter from the Swedish Government? No, dearest, no one takes me seriously. Let me go.’

  He shook his head impatiently. ‘I am working day and night, I am doing an endless number of jobs, and I cannot go on with them if I know that you are not near me. I need you, Désirée.’

  ‘Others may need me more. A day may come when my house is perhaps the only one to offer shelter for my sister and her children. Do let me go, Jean-Baptiste, I implore you!’

  ‘You must not profane Swedish authority in order to help your family. I shall never tolerate that.’

  ‘I shall always profane Swedish authority if it helps someone in distress. Sweden is only a small country, Jean-Baptiste, with at most a couple of million inhabitants. Magnanimity alone can make it great.’

  At that Jean-Baptiste smiled. ‘I almost believe you take the time to read books.’

  ‘I shall take the time in Paris, dearest, when I have nothing else to do. I shall try to educate myself so that you and Oscar need not be ashamed of me later on.’

  ‘Désirée, the child needs you. Can you really envisage a separation from him for any length of time? No one knows how the situation is going to develop. It may be that you could not return here easily once you are in Paris. Europe is going to be turned into a battlefield and you and I—’

  ‘Darling, I shouldn’t be allowed to accompany you to the front in any case. And the child—’ Yes, the child. All the time I had tried to push the thought of him away from me. The idea of a separation from him was like an open wound, it hurt. ‘The child is now Heir to the Throne, surrounded by an adjutant and three teachers. Since we came here he’s had very little time for me. At first he’ll miss me, but then he’ll realise that an heir to a throne cannot indulge his sentiments, only his sense of duty. In this way our boy will be brought up like a Prince by birth, and nobody could ever call him later on a parvenu King.’ I put my head on his shoulder and cried. At last I pulled myself together and got up. ‘I think it’s time to eat.’

  Jean-Baptiste sat on the arm of the chair without moving. Away from the stove I felt at once the icy cold of the room. ‘D’you know that in Marseilles the mimosas are in bloom at this time?’ I said.

  ‘The Chancellor told me spring would be here in four weeks’ time, and he is a reliable man,’ said Jean-Baptiste in a low voice.

  I walked towards the door, slowly, waiting feverishly for a word from him, for his decision. I would take it as a judgment. When I arrived by the door I stopped. Whatever his decision was, it would break me, I felt.

  ‘And how am I to explain your departure to Their Majesties and the court?’ It sounded casual, as if the whole thing were of almost no importance.

  ‘Say that I have to go to Plombières for reasons of health to take the waters there, and that I shall spend autumn and winter in Paris because I cannot stand the raw climate here.’

  I left the room quickly.

  Drottningholm Castle in Sweden. T
he beginning of June 1811

  The night sky spreads like pale green silk over the park. It is midnight, but still not dark. I had dark blinds put at the windows to help me to sleep, but I didn’t sleep well in spite of that. I don’t know whether the green twilight or my impending departure for France to-morrow morning is responsible for my sleeplessness.

  Three days ago the court moved to Drottningholm, the summer residence with an endless park. The light nights are full of sweet scents, the eerie light makes everything look unreal. One doesn’t sleep, one only stares into the green space. Unreal too in this light are all the last talks and farewells, painful and yet easy to bear because I am allowed to go back home. I am turning over the pages of my diary, and I remember Papa.

  On June the first the Swedish court left Stockholm for this place. Perhaps I am dreaming, I tell myself this last night in which I still call myself the Crown Princess of Sweden. Tomorrow morning I shall start my journey incognito under the name of Countess of Gothland. Perhaps it’s all been nothing but a dream and I shall wake up in my bedroom in Sceaux, and the next moment Marie will come in and give me Oscar. But the outlines of my trunks in the room here are very real indeed. Oscar, my boy, your mother is going away to France, but not just for health reasons, and I shall not see you again for a very long time. And when I do see you again you won’t be a child any more, at least not my child. You’ll be a real Prince instead, bred to occupy a throne. Jean-Baptiste was born to reign, you are being bred to reign. But your mother was neither born nor bred to it, and that is why in a few hours I shall leave …

  For weeks the court found it impossible to understand that I was really going away. They whispered and threw curiously furtive glances at me. I thought they’d be annoyed with me for it. But strangely enough they were annoyed with the Queen instead. It was said that the Queen had not been a good mother-in-law to me and, so to speak, had forced me to leave. But if they had expected feuds between Her Majesty and Her Royal Highness they were disappointed. I am leaving the scene tomorrow morning as the unknown Countess of Gothland.