Polonaise (36 page)

That was a bitterly cold spring, and they stayed frozen up at Rendomierz, with no more news, but an increasing feeling of tension in the air. Jenny had learned to respect the curious way in which not so much news as a phantasm of news travelled among the serfs. When Lech urged her to persuade the Princess not to let the little boys out of sight of the palace, she did not question his reason.

News, when it came, came drastically. Prince Poniatowski rode up to the palace one late May morning at the head of a battle-stained detachment of the Franco-Polish army. ‘I'm glad to find you safe, Princess.' He was eating like a man who had not seen food for days. ‘I've been afraid for you, since Warsaw fell.'

‘Warsaw?'

‘You've not heard? The Austrians took it. They launched a dastardly attack, both east and west, just when Napoleon was occupied in Spain. They'll regret it! He has rolled them up in the west; will be in Vienna any day; but here in Poland – I insist on calling it that – we have the Russians to contend with as well as the Austrians.'

‘The Russians?' asked Jenny, greatly daring. ‘But are they not allied to the French?'

‘You'd not think so if you saw what they are doing. That is why I am so relieved to find you safe, Princess. Golitzin, the Russian Commander, seems more interested in suppressing us Poles than in fighting the Austrians.'

‘He would not suppress me,' said the Princess.

‘Probably not. But, if I may give you a cousin's advice, don't
count on that Tsar of yours too absolutely. He changes like the moon. Though I hope he will join me in seeing that you are protected. You and your treasure house of Poland's future. May I see your little boys? I have another cousin among them, remember, as well as Casimir.'

‘Why, of course. They will be beside themselves with joy. We have the greatest trouble in making them study anything but arms these days, do we not, Jenny?'

‘Yes,' said Jenny. ‘I wish you would speak to them, Prince. Tell them that there is more to life than warfare.'

‘Only when the war is done, Miss Peverel.'

But he did speak to the boys before he rode away next morning, and to some purpose, Jenny thought. At least they applied themselves to their language studies after that. But it was hard to settle to anything, with rumour piled on rumour. The next news they had of Poniatowski was that he was laying siege to Austrian-held Cracow, but in the end it was to the Russian Golitzin that the Austrians yielded.

‘As if they were allies already,' said the Princess bitterly. ‘With us Poles for the grist between the two millstones, as always.' But she had a new glow to her these days, Jenny thought, as if life had become immensely interesting.

The little boys had spent the winter re-enacting the desperate Polish charge that had captured the Spanish valley of Somosierra for Napoleon, when his advisers thought it impossible. Now, in July, they were playing at Wagram, where he had finally defeated the Austrians. An armistice followed; the Austrian Archduke Ferdinand evacuated Warsaw, and the Princess went there at once. Jenny wanted to stay at Rendomierz, where she now felt her duty lay with the little boys, but the Princess was adamant, Jenny could not quite understand why.

She began to do so when they reached Warsaw, found the Ovinski Palace less damaged by its Austrian occupiers than they had feared, and learned that Marie Walewska was rumoured to be on the point of leaving for Vienna.

‘Go and call on her,' said the Princess. ‘If she is really going, she will need a chaperone. Tell her, tactfully, that I would be happy to fill the position.'

‘You, Isobel?'

‘I trust that she will understand what a concession it would be.'

‘You want so badly to go to Vienna?'

‘Use your head, Jenny. If anyone has come gallantly out of the war, it's my Cousin Josef and his Polish army. Look what they have done! And would have done much more if the Russians had not intervened. They must not be forgotten this time, among the shuffling compromises of the great powers. They deserve their reward. Remember that gallant charge at Somosierra!'

‘That mad charge. Three of the little boys lost kinsmen there. I hardly dare face my friends here in Warsaw, and their mourning.'

‘For such noble deaths? One should rejoice.'

‘Suppose it was Casimir.'

‘Fiddlestick,' said the Princess.

Jenny found Marie Walewska in the throes of packing. Her face was flushed; her eyes sparkled. ‘Yes, I'm going to him! He wanted me sooner; the minute he reached Vienna; but there was no way I could get there, with the Austrian troops still here. Now! I cannot wait to see him, to see him triumphant. Oh, Jenny!'

‘I am so glad.' Jenny put the Princess's offer as succinctly as she could.

‘Kind of her!' Marie flushed crimson. ‘But no need. My husband's niece and her husband go with me, the Wittes. Josephine Witte is a good friend of mine. You must know about her; she had one of the first divorces under the new law.' Her colour rose. Was she thinking of a possible divorce for herself, and the marriage that might follow? ‘Do tell the Princess that I would be delighted if she felt like joining us for the journey. And you too, dear Jenny.'

But Jenny did her best to dissuade the Princess from going. ‘No good will come of it, I am sure.'

‘Nonsense,' said Princess Isobel. ‘My cousin Josef urges it. He has great hopes of this peace conference, but cannot be there himself. Now Talleyrand is in disgrace with Napoleon, Poland will need all her friends.'

Travelling fast, the little party reached Vienna in four days. Marie's old friend Duroc had found her a house at Modling, about ten miles from the palace of Schonbrunn, where Napoleon had established himself, but quiet Marie had contrived to make it quite clear that she did not expect the Princess to stay with her. Jenny thought she had got a little tired of Isobel's talk of her great ancestor, Jan Sobieski, and his heroic march to save Vienna, and did not entirely blame her. But it left them with a problem about lodgings, since the city was crowded to overflowing. The owner of the hotel, where the Princess usually stayed, merely shrugged his shoulders. ‘Highness, you should have sent in advance. It desolates me to have to refuse …' He had come out to her carriage, and stood bareheaded in the hot July sun. ‘But I have a letter for you,' he went on quickly, fearing, as Jenny did, an explosion. ‘It was left with me some days ago.'

‘Paul Genet.' The Princess was reading it rapidly. ‘Obliging of him! He has taken the liberty of getting me an apartment in the Landstrasse. We'll do well enough there. Thank you, my man. Tell the coachman to drive on, Jenny.'

Surveying the luxurious first-floor apartment, Jenny could not help wondering about its Austrian owners, presumably turned out to make room for their conqueror's friends. ‘Talleyrand may be in disgrace,' said the Princess with satisfaction, ‘but he is evidently far from powerless. This will do very well.'

The apartment was soon a meeting place for the young Polish aristocrats of the Polish Lancers, who were quartered near Schönbrunn, and they crowded into the Princess's box at the theatre and the opera, competing for her attention, telling Jenny their stories of death and glory at Somosierra, when they could not tell the Princess. There was a rumour going around that the new Duchy of Warsaw was to gain territory from Austria under the terms of the peace treaty, and they made no secret of their conviction that they had earned this.

Paul Genet had been out of town when they arrived, but came to call ten days or so later, and Jenny was surprised how pleased she was to see him. It was good to be treated as a person in her own right again, not just an appendage of the Princess.

Isobel thanked Genet very graciously for the apartment and asked civilly after Talleyrand. ‘I am only sorry he is not here in person. We miss him sadly. Tell him so, when you write.'

‘I certainly will, Highness. And he has specially charged me to ask after the progress of your young Prince, and his schoolfellows.'

‘Admirable, of course. But Jenny can tell you about that better than I can. If you will excuse me, I must get ready for the opera. I am joining Madame Walewska in her box tonight, so I'll have no need of your company, Jenny. You will entertain Monsieur Genet for me.'

‘I'm sorry,' he said, when she had left them. ‘You expected to go?'

‘No matter. It's only Salieri. But, it's true, I always enjoy seeing Marie Walewska. She's so happy! It does one good just
to be with her. She glows with it. And isn't it amazing how she goes on in society?'

‘She's powerfully protected,' he said drily. ‘Long may it last for her. Did you know that Napoleon delayed his entry to Schönbrunn because the Archduchess Marie Louise was lying ill there?'

‘No. Unusually civil of him, surely?'

‘That's what I thought. Tell me about the group of young Poles who share their attentions between the Princess and Madame Walewska? What do you think of them?'

She thought about it for a moment. Then, ‘Frankly, anything I say will be unfair to them.'

‘Promising! Why?'

‘Because they treat me like a thing; like the Princess's waiting-gentlewoman. Which is what I am.'

He laughed. ‘Admirable. I know just how you feel. So granted this totally unreasonable prejudice of yours, tell me what you think of them.'

‘I wish they didn't compete and quarrel all the time among themselves. You should see them, around the Princess, debating points of precedence, the military added to the dynastic. I find it childish, Monsieur Genet, and not hopeful for the future of Poland.'

‘Would you be very much surprised if I told you that Napoleon himself is said to have made very similar remarks?'

‘It's so sad,' she said. ‘I often think Lech is worth ten of them. He really cares for his country, and for the Princess as representing it.'

‘Which she deserves?'

‘I work for her, Monsieur Genet.'

‘Forgive me. Now, you are to tell me about the little Prince. How, truly, do he – and the school go on?'

‘This is for Talleyrand?'

‘Naturally.'

‘Then tell him that I am worried. I'm glad to have this chance to say it. In theory, the school was a brilliant idea …'

‘But in practice?'

‘It's just making matters worse, I think. The masters fight among themselves, and for the boys' favour. Because the boys are their future masters, don't you see? Specially Casimir.
Just imagine yourself a struggling tutor, disciplining him, the possible future King of Poland? I've tried to say this to the Princess. To suggest that she needs an outsider. A headmaster, I suppose? Someone who is afraid of no one. Impossible, of course.'

‘Very interesting,' he said. ‘Thank you, Miss Peverel. I'll most certainly tell my master.'

In England, news of Napoleon's defeat of Austria seemed less immediately important than events nearer home. All the talk was of the Duke of York who had had to resign as Commander in Chief after the parliamentary enquiry into his mistress's sale of commissions in his name. ‘Duke or darling,' said the wits, tossing coins. General Moore had been killed at the evacuation of Corunna, and Arthur Wellesley's triumph in Portugal had been thrown away by the ridiculous terms of the Convention of Cintra, negotiated by his successors. And this summer's Walcheren expedition had been a disaster from start to finish.

With so much to concern him nearer home, it was hardly surprising that Canning had found no employment for Glynde. But he began to hold out hopes in the summer of 1809, detecting, he said, a hint of slackening in Russian hostility to England. Then, in September, he fought a duel with his political rival Castlereagh and lost office as a result. Granville Leveson Gower resigned too, and with them went all Glynde's hopes of employment.

‘It's bad.' His aunt always faced facts. ‘I am so sorry, Glynde. Just glad that you are here with me to face it.'

‘And so am I! I begin to think you're my only friend.'

‘At least you can count on me.' She smiled at him. ‘Up to a point. It struck me, when I heard the news of Canning's duel, that a good aunt would catch a tertian fever, die, and leave you her heir. You are, of course. But,' again her heartwarming smile, ‘I don't propose to die even for you, dear Glynde.'

‘I should think not indeed.' He felt better already. ‘I'm not even going to let myself wish my father and brother would.'

‘No, barbarous. And besides, to decline into a landowner,
so dull,' she said. ‘But I think I must ask it – your funds, Glynde?'

‘Out of tune,' he groaned. ‘I'm rolled up, aunt. It's all over with me. Nothing for it but to join the army and let the French oblige me with a bullet through the head.'

‘That's no way to talk.'

‘Forgive me! But wherever I look I see nothing but disaster. We're even at odds with the Americans now; Napoleon is isolating us, slowly and surely. It's a glum lookout.'

‘But we're still free. I wish we would hear what happened to your Princess Ovinska and the little boy when the Austrians took Warsaw and the Poles went on the rampage through Galicia. And to Jenny Peverel.'

‘I'm sure they will have been unharmed.' But he had lain awake, night after night, trying to convince himself of this. ‘The Princess has cousins everywhere,' he said now. ‘And of course she would protect Miss Peverel. The Tsar himself is her friend; she will have been quite safe either at Rendomierz or further north in her other estate in Russian-held Lithuania. She has her own army of serfs to guard her; all devoted both to her and to the little Prince. But just the same I'd give a good deal to have news of her. It's extraordinary how little one hears about what goes on in what used to be Poland.'

‘You cannot love her still, Glynde, after all this time?'