Chapter 25 September 1810: The New Crown Prince

A light shone into my face, and a voice said: "Get up at once, Desiree. Get up and dress quickly."

It was Jean, my husband. He was holding a lamp over my bed, and he was wearing his best uniform.

"Whats the matter, Jean?" I said. "Its the middle of the night!"

"Hurry, Desiree. Ive already woken Oscar. I want him to be present, too."

I heard voices downstairs. Marie came into the room, and I could see the edge of her nightdress under her skirt.

"Youll help the princess to dress quickly, wont you?" jean said to her.

"For gods sake, tell me Jean," I begged. "Has something happened?"

"Yes--- and no. Youll hear it yourself. But do hurry."

"What shall I wear? I cant dress properly if you dont answer my questions."

"Wear your most beautiful dress," he replied. Then he left the room.

Marie brought my yellow silk dress, and she fixed my hair neatly. Round my neck I put an old gold chain that Jean gave me for my last birthday.

His head came round the door again. "do come, Desiree. We cant make them wait any longer."

"Who are they?" I demanded angrily. "Why wont you tell me whats happening?"

"Its the greatest moment of my life," was his only answer.

He took my arm and led me down the stairs. Oscar was waiting for us at the bottom. His eyes were shining excitedly and he was wearing his best suit.

"Papa, is it war?" he asked. "Is the Emperor coming to see us? How beautiful Mama is dressed!"

Jean took his hand. Then he told Fernand to open the double doors of our sitting room. It was brightly lit; every lamp in the house had been put there.

Fernand said in a loud voice: "Their Highnesses, the Prince and Princess of Ponte Corvo, and their son, Prince Oscar."

We walked slowly into the room. Our visitors bowed deeply. They were wearing gay foreign uniforms and I recognized the colours at once: blue and yellow, the colours of Sweden.

One young man was not so gaily dressed. His clothes were dirty, and there was mud all over his boots. His fair hair hung down loosely over his face. There were dark circles round his eyes. Clearly he had been riding for several days without proper sleep.

"Gustav Morner, my prisoner at Liibeck," Jean said slowly to this man. "Im glad to see you again. Im very glad."

Morner came forward and bowed again. His hands were trembling as he held out a letter to Jean. "Your Royal Highness---" he began.

Royal? My heart stopped. But Jean calmly accepted the letter.

"Your royal Highness," Morner continued, "I have brought you a message from His Majesty the King of Sweden. The Swedish parliament invites Your Highness to become the new Crown Prince of Sweden. His Majesty King Charles the thirteenth wishes to adopt you as his son. He hopes to welcome you in Sweden very soon."

He was so tired that he almost fell. An old gentleman had to hold his arm.

"Im sorry," Morner said in a low voice. "Ive been riding for several days without a rest." Then he added louder: "May I introduce these gentlemen to Your Highness?"

Jean nodded.

"This is Count von Essen, our ambassador in Paris," said Morner. The old gentleman bowed stiffly. His face was as hard as stone.

Jean nodded. "Your were governor of Pomerania, Count von Essen. You defended it bravely when I had to conquer it for my Emperor."

Morner continued: "This is colonel wrede, and this is Count Brahe."

"we have met before," said Jean. I recognized them too. Talleyrand introduced them to us at the Tuileries a few months ago. Now they smiled and bowed. They were glad to be remembered.

There was a moment silence. Then Jean took a deep breath and said: "I accept the Swedish parliaments invitation. I am proud of be adopted son of His majesty king Charles the Thirteenth." He looked at count von Essen, the servant of an old and childless king. "I want to thank His Majesty and the Swedish people for trusting me. I promise to serve them and their country with all my power."

Count von Essen bowed deeply again. All the other Swedes did the same.

At this moment a strange thing happened. Oscar walked forward and stood beside the Swedes. He held the hand of Count Brade, the good-looking young man. And he bowed his head towards his Papa and Mama.

Jean said to Fernand, who stood by the door: "Bring those special bottles of wine that Ive kept since Oscars birth." Then he started reading the letter that Morner had brought.

Von Essen went up to him and said: "It is my duty to tell Your Highness one thing: the Crown Prince must be a Swedish citizen. Do you agree to that? I must know the answer before I write to Stockholm."

Jean smiled . "Of course. The King of Sweden cannot adopt a French citizen as his son. Tomorrow I shall ask my Emperor to let me become Swedish."

An astonished look spread over the old Counts face. He couldnt believe his ears. Nor could I believe mine. I was just going to say something when Fernand came in with the wine.

"I bought these bottles eleven years ago," said Jean, "when I was Minister of War. Oscar had just been born. I said to my wife: Well open these when he becomes an officer in the French army."

Oscar wasnt listening. He was still holding young Brahes hand. "I want to write music, like Monsieur Beethoven," I heard him say. "But Mama wants me to be a silk merchant, like her father."

We all laughed, except Count von Essen. His face was still like a stone.

When everyone had a glass, Brahe said: "Your Royal Highness is going to learn a Swedish word, Skal. It means Good health!" He raised his glass. "Let us drink ti the health of His Royal---"

Jean interrupted him. "Gentlemen, we will drink to the health of His Majesty the King of Sweden."

They drank slowly, with serious faces. Then someone said: "Let us also drink to the health of His adopted son--- the crown Prince Charles." And they all cried "skail" and drank again.

Oscar was smiling happily. "are you glad that were going to Sweden, Mama?" he asked.

There was a sudden silence. Everyone wanted to hear my answer. What could I honesty say? Im French, and france is my home. Ive never been to Sweden. I dont know its people. But I know one thing: its noblemen are terribly proud. Brahe and Morner smiled when Oscar spoke about my father, the silk merchant. They smiled kindly because they are young; but the idea still amused them. It didnt amuse old von Essen. He thinks that Crown Prince should be born in royal families. Our families arent even noble. So hes ashamed of us.

They were still waiting for my answer. "Say it, Mama, Oscar begged me. "Say that youre glad."

"I dont know Sweden yet," I said. "but I shall try very hard to be happy there."

"The people of Sweden cannot ask for more than that," said von Essen seriously.