I nodded, and I felt a lump rising in my throat. Making our way towards the door, I saw Oscar’s Löwenhjelm lurking behind a pillar. Fortunately Oscar didn’t notice him.
Without speaking we went out, crossed the fish market outside the Cathedral, and finally entered a narrow street. I pulled the veil more tightly round my face, as I felt that Oscar was giving me sideways glances now and then. At last we stopped at a small café with a few miserable tables outside and two dusty palm trees.
‘May I invite my charming compatriot to a glass of wine?’ he asked.
I looked at the dreadful trees with horror. ‘But that won’t do,’ I thought, and I felt that I was blushing. ‘Doesn’t he see that I am a middle-aged lady? Or does he give these invitations to every chance acquaintance?’ But I calmed myself with the thought that he had probably invited me because he was glad to be rid of Löwenhjelm.
‘It is not very elegant here, Madame,’ he said, ‘but at least we can talk undisturbed.’
To my horror he ordered champagne.
‘Not now, in the morning,’ I said.
‘Why not? Why not at any time when there is something to celebrate?’
‘But there is nothing to celebrate.’
‘There is. Your acquaintance, Madame. Could you not put your veil aside a bit so that I could see your face? I can see nothing but the tip of your nose.’
‘My nose is a very unfortunate one. When I was young it used to offend me a good deal. Strange that no woman ever seems to have the nose she wants.’
‘My father has a really fantastic nose. Like an eagle’s beak! His face is nothing but nose and eyes.’
The waiter brought the champagne and poured it out.
‘Skål, ma compatriote inconnue. French and Swedish at the same time – is that not so?’
‘Like Your Highness,’ I said. The champagne was far too sweet.
‘No, Madame, I am only a Swede now – and, of course, a Norwegian. The champagne is awful, don’t you think so?’
‘Too sweet, Your Highness.’
‘I am glad, Madame, that we seem to have the same taste. Most women prefer their wine very sweet. Our Madame Koskull, for instance.’
I sat up sharply. ‘What does that mean – our Madame Koskull?’
‘That is our lady-in-waiting, Mariana Koskull. First she was the late King’s ray of sunshine, then Papa’s favourite and, if Papa had had his way, my – mistress! What is there so surprising in it, Madame?’
‘That you tell these things to a stranger,’ I said angrily.
‘A compatriot! Mariana used to read to the old King, and he was so happy to be allowed to stroke her arm. Papa has simply taken over the Swedish court ceremonial as it was, perhaps in order not to offend anybody, and so he has taken over Madame Koskull as well.’
I stared at him, completely put out. ‘Do you mean that?’
‘Madame, my father is the loneliest man I know. My mother has not been to see him for many years, he works sixteen hours a day, and what spare time he has he spends in the company of a few friends from the days before his accession, such as Count Brahe, if the name means anything to you, or Madame Koskull. She brings her guitar and sings Swedish drinking songs to Papa. They are quite amusing songs, but Papa unfortunately does not understand them.’
‘And court balls and receptions? You can’t have a court without its court functions?’
‘Oh yes, Papa can. Don’t forget, Madame, we are a court without a Queen!’
I emptied my glass slowly, and he filled it again. ‘It will all be different once you get married.’
‘Do you think that any young Princess will feel at ease in a huge cold castle where the King refuses to see anybody but his ministers and old friends? My father has altered strangely, Madame. A King who does not speak the language of his people is easily obsessed by the fear that he may be deposed. Do you know how far things have gone? They have gone so far that my father has prohibited journals that have published articles disagreeable to him personally. Yet the Swedish Constitution guarantees freedom of the press!’
Oscar’s face had gone white with agitation. Tonelessly I asked: ‘You are not hostile to your father, are you?’
‘No, if I were, all this would not upset me so much. Madame, my father has made Sweden great again, and prosperous; Sweden owes its liberty to him alone. Yet this same man fights every liberal tendency Parliament shows. Why? Because he imagines that liberalism leads to revolution and revolution will cost him his crown. But there is not the ghost of a chance of any kind of revolution in Scandinavia, only healthy evolution. A former Jacobin just can’t see that. Do I weary you, Madame?’
I shook my head, and he went on: ‘It has come to this, that some people, individuals, Madame, not parties, talk of suggesting abdication to him – in my favour!’
‘You must never even think of that,’ I said in a low tone, trembling.
Oscar bent forward. ‘I am tired, Madame. I wanted to be a composer, and what has come of it? A few songs, a few military marches, that’s all. I have begun an opera and cannot find time to finish it, not only because of my duties at court and in the Army but especially because I have to spend so much time trying to convince my father of the necessities for changes, changes, incidentally, which the French Revolution ought to have taught him. He ought to receive the middle-class at court instead of only the old nobility, and he should stop talking at every prorogation of Parliament about his deserts as a General and the sacrifice of his private fortune to pay Sweden’s external debts. Papa ought to—’
I couldn’t contain myself any longer, I had to interrupt him and ask: ‘And what about this Madame Koskull?’
‘I don’t think she has ever done more for him than sing songs. As for me, he seemed to have the old-fashioned idea that Crown Princes ought to be introduced to the amatory arts by ladies who were experienced campaigners. Not long ago, Madame, he sent Mistress Koskull to my room at midnight armed with her guitar!’
‘Your papa meant well, Your Highness.’
‘He locks himself up in his study and loses all contact with reality. What he lacks—’ He broke off to pour out more champagne. A frown appeared on his forehead, reminiscent of Jean-Baptiste. ‘When I was a child, Madame, I badly wanted to see Napoleon’s coronation. I was not allowed to, I don’t know why. But I do remember my mother sitting in my room and saying that we should both go to another coronation; she promised me that, and it was to be a far more beautiful one than Napoleon’s. Yes, Madame, I did go to another one, but my mother wasn’t there. But, Madame, you are crying!’
‘Your mother’s name is Desideria, the longed-for one, the wanted one. Perhaps she wasn’t wanted at the time.’
‘Not wanted? My father has her proclaimed Queen and she, she does not even come for that! Do you believe that a man like my father can bring himself to ask her on his knees?’
‘Perhaps being a Queen is not a very congenial occupation for your mother?’
‘Madame, my mother is a marvellous woman. But she is at least as obstinate as my father. I tell you that the presence of the Queen in Sweden is not only desirable but necessary!’
‘If that is so, perhaps the Queen had better come,’ I said very softly.
‘Thank God, Mama! Thank God! And now take off your veil so that I can have a real look at you. Yes, you have changed. You have become more beautiful, your eyes are bigger, and your face and – Why are you crying, Mama?’
‘When did you recognise me, Oscar?’
‘Recognise you? I only went to look at Charlemagne’s tomb to wait there for you. I was quite curious, I must say, to know how you were going to address a strange man.’
‘I thought your Löwenhjelm would keep quiet about it.’
‘It was not his fault. I intended all along to meet you without witnesses. He noticed how I racked my brains about it and so he confessed that you had anticipated me.’
‘Oscar, is what you told me about Papa true?’
‘It
is. Only I painted it very black so that you couldn’t but decide to come home. When are you coming?’
He took my hand and put it against his cheek.
‘Oscar, you have a beard like a man. Come home? You don’t know how they vexed me at that time in Stockholm.’
‘But, dear Mama, they are all dead, except Princess Sofia Albertina! Who could vex you now? Don’t forget you are the Queen!’
‘No,’ I thought, ‘how could I forget that? I’m so afraid of it.’
‘Mama, in the Cathedral you said something about asking me a favour. Did you say that only to start the conversation with me?’
‘No, I really have a favour to ask you. It concerns my daughter-in-law.’
‘But there is no daughter-in-law yet. Papa has compiled a whole list of Princesses I am to look at, all horribly ugly. Papa got their portraits for me.’
‘I should like you to marry for love, Oscar.’
‘Believe me, so should I. When you get home I shall show you my little daughter, secretly. Her name is Oscara, Mama.’
Heavens, I am a grandmother!
‘Mama, Oscara has inherited your dimples!’
‘And who is Oscara’s mother?’
‘Jaquette Gyldenstolpe, a charming mother!’
‘Does Papa know?’
‘Of course not, Mama! Promise me never to tell him!’
‘But shouldn’t you—’
‘Marry her? Mama, you forget who I am.’
For some reason it irritated me to hear him say that. Oscar continued:
‘Papa thought at first of a connection with the house of Hanover. But the Bernadotte dynasty is not good enough yet for the English, and I shall have to marry a Prussian Princess.’
‘Listen, Oscar. The arrangements were that we were going together from here to Brussels for the marriage of Aunt Julie’s daughter Zenaïde to a son of Lucien Bonaparte. We expect Joseph Bonaparte back from America for the wedding. He may even stay on in Europe afterwards.’
‘I am sorry, Mama, but I don’t like the Bonapartes. Well, the wedding. And then?’
‘From Brussels I’m going on to Switzerland to Hortense – you know, Josephine’s daughter. I should like you to come along too.’
‘Mama, I really should not like that. All these Bonapartes—’
‘I want you to meet Hortense’s niece.’
‘Who is she?’
‘The daughter of Eugene de Beauharnais, former Viceroy of Italy, now Duke of Leuchtenberg. His wife is a daughter of the King of Bavaria. And the daughter is the most beautiful girl you can imagine.’
‘Even if she is, I still couldn’t marry her. The daughter of a Duke of Leuchtenberg is no match for the Crown Prince of Sweden, Mama – for a Bernadotte!’
‘No? Then let me tell you, Oscar – but give me a little more champagne first, I am beginning to like it – let me tell you: her grandfather on her father’s side was the Viscount Beauharnais, a General in the French Army. Her grandmother was the Viscountess Beauharnais, the most beautiful woman of her time, the most charming and expensive of cocottes. On her second marriage she became Empress of the French. Your paternal grandfather, however, was a lawyer’s clerk in Pau, and nothing at all is known about his wife, your father’s mother.’
‘But, Mama—’
‘Let me finish. Her grandfather on her mother’s side is the King of Bavaria, and the Bavarian royal family is one of the oldest reigning families in Europe. Your grandfather on your mother’s side was the Marseilles silk merchant François Clary.’
He clapped his hands to his head. ‘The granddaughter of a cocotte!’
‘Yes, and an enchanting one at that! I’ve only seen the little Josephine once, when she was a child, but she has the same smile, the same charm as the big one had.’
Oscar sighed. ‘Mama, simply for dynastic reasons—’
‘Exactly, for dynastic reasons! I want to be the ancestress of a beautiful dynasty.’
‘Papa will never give his consent.’
‘Imagine anybody asking him to marry an ugly woman! I shall handle Papa. You go and have a look at Josephine.’
We left the café arm-in-arm and went to our hotel. My heart was beating with happiness and bad champagne.
‘How old is she, Mama?’
‘Only fifteen. But at that age I had my first kisses.’
‘You were a precocious child, Mama.’
We came in sight of the hotel. Oscar, suddenly very serious, took my hand.
‘Mama, you’ll promise me, won’t you, to accompany my fiancée to Stockholm?’
‘Yes, I promise.’
‘And that you will stay on?’
I hesitated. ‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On myself, Oscar. I shall only stay on if I succeed in becoming a good Queen. I shall take it very seriously indeed.’
‘All you need, Mama, is practice. Look! There they are, your Löwenhjelm and mine, both looking anxious.’
‘I shall introduce some reforms at the Swedish court,’ I whispered into his ear. ‘We shall send Miss Koskull to her well-earned retirement.’ We looked at each other and laughed heartily.
‘Mama, we are both a little drunk,’ said Oscar.
Well, well, is that really becoming for an illegitimate grandmother, I mean the grandmother of an illegitimate child?
At the royal castle in Stockholm. Spring 1823
‘How beautiful our country is!’ said my daughter-in-law, the Crown Princess Josefina of Sweden, in an awed voice.
We were standing near the bows of the impressive warship that had met us at Lübeck and was now nearing Stockholm. Oscar and Josephine had been married in Munich. As she is a Roman Catholic and Oscar a Protestant, she insisted on being married in a Roman Catholic church, by proxy as Oscar couldn’t be there. The proper ceremonies for the wedding are to take place in Stockholm after our arrival.
We passed countless rocky islets covered with black fir trees, with green shoots showing on every branch, or birches veiled with yellow blossom.
‘Our beautiful country,’ repeated Josephine’s granddaughter, and her shining eyes drank in the sight of the marvellous birch forests.
Marceline, Marius, and Marie and Pierre were with me, and Yvette, of course, the only one who could do my hair properly besides Julie. They were the little bit of France I had brought with me. I had appointed Marceline my chief stewardess and Marius my financial adviser, to their intense satisfaction and that of their father. I had left Julie behind in Brussels; she was far more reconciled to her exile than I had ever known her to be, and talked of joining her daughter Zenaïde, who was married and living in Florence. Joseph had come over from America, and his main topic of conversation was cattle breeding. He too talked vaguely of going to live in Italy when he was old. ‘And so,’ said Julie, linking her arm in his, ‘everything has turned out for the best.’ But she said it without conviction.
‘I am so happy, Mama,’ whispered Josefina into my ear. ‘From the moment we set eyes on each other, Oscar and I knew that we were meant for each other. But I was sure that neither you nor His Majesty would allow it.’
‘But why not, Josephine?’
‘Because, Mama, I am only the daughter of the Duke of Leuchtenberg, and I am sure you counted on a Princess from a royal family, did you not?’
‘Counted? You don’t count on anything where your children’s happiness is concerned, you only hope for the best.’
A salvo came from the coastal fortress of Vaxholm, which we were passing, and I noticed a small boat approaching our ship.
‘And that is my advice to you, Josefina,’ I continued. ‘Never stand in the way of your children if they want to marry for love.’
‘But, Mama, what about the succession?’
‘Leave that to fate and the future. But teach all Bernadottes that love is the only honourable reason for marrying.’
Josefina looked horrified. ‘But, Mama, what if it is a commoner?’
‘
What of it? Aren’t we commoners, we Bernadottes?’
Another salvo thundered. I put the field-glasses to my eyes and studied the little boat making for us. ‘Josefina, Oscar’s coming on board!’
We entered the port of Djurgården. The air was reverberating with the thunder of the guns, great crowds were lining quays and streets as far as we could see, and lots of small garlanded boats danced round our ship. Oscar and Josefina were standing beside me, waving. Josefina wore a blue dress and an ermine stole that had begun to go yellow with age. Once upon a time Napoleon had given that stole to Josephine, and Hortense made a present of it to Josefina to remind her of her beautiful grandmother.
I felt my hands turn clammy as I clenched them in growing excitement. Marie touched them reassuringly with her hard hand and put the heavy mink stole over my shoulders.
‘This is the end of your journey, Eugenie,’ she said.
‘No, Marie, this is only the beginning.’
The guns had stopped firing, and a band began to play.
‘I composed that music for you,’ said Oscar to Josefina. Meanwhile I looked round through the field-glasses and found what I was looking for: a purple velvet cloak and white plumes on a hat.
The gangway was brought out and I found myself facing it alone. Everybody, even Oscar and Josefina, had gone back a few paces. The band on the quayside struck up the Swedish national anthem, and everybody froze into immobility. Then two gentlemen who had been waiting close to the purple velvet cloak rushed towards the gangway to escort me down. They were Counts Brahe and Rosen, the one smiling, the other pale with excitement. But the purple cloak came between them and me at the end of the narrow shaky gangway and I felt a familiar grip on my arm.
The crowd cheered, the guns thundered, the band played, as we walked on to the quay followed by Oscar and his Crown Princess. Under a triumphal arch made of birch branches a little girl in white handed me a giant bouquet of blue lilies and yellow tulips and recited a poem of welcome. Then, to the obvious surprise of all present, I opened my mouth to say something in return. A great hush fell on the quayside. I was almost paralysed with fear, but my voice was loud and calm as I began with the words: