Gypsy Magic

Chapter One 1825-2

“I have always been told that Prussians hate the gypsies,” Laetitia said reflectively, “but to us they are part of our life and the country would not be the same without them.”

She was thinking, as she talked, of the colourful bands of gypsies who roamed in the valleys and the music which always stirred her heart whenever she heard it and made her long to start dancing.

Her father had told her how when he was young he and his Cousin Louis would often join the gypsies around their campfires and listen to the glorious wild melodies they played on their violins.

They would also watch the young gypsy girls dancing with a grace that was characteristic of their race.

“It is a grace you possess yourself, my darling,” he had said to Laetitia when she was thirteen.

“How exciting, Papa! Are you quite sure I have it?”

“Quite sure,” her father had answered. “Just as I am sure that when you grow older you will be very beautiful and I shall be very proud of you!”

Stories of gypsy life had always intrigued Laetitia even though she knew that it was something she dare not mention at the Palace.

There was an intriguing tale that far back in the history of the family their great-great-great-grandfather, who was Grand Duke, married twice but there were no children of either marriage.

His second wife was very much younger than he was and, as he grew older, he became frantic to have an heir.

If he did not do so, the succession would pass from the family of Rákónzi to which they all belonged to a family they all disliked and which had over the years become lazy, debauched and in consequence most unsuited to rule.

The Grand Duke had therefore taken his wife to physicians all over Europe and to healing spas and finally as a last resort had sought the help of the gypsies.

The legend, which was afterwards always told in whispers, recounted that, because the Grand Duke was unwell at the time the Grand Duchess had gone alone to the camp of the most important tribe in the whole country.

She had been welcomed by their Voivode or King who was young, dark and very handsome.

She had taken part in a feast at which the gypsies filled their most prized possession of jewelled goblets with the rarest wine the vineyards could produce.

After they had feasted, there had been music and dancing round the campfire.

Very late when the violins were still playing and a number of the older gypsies had fallen asleep, the King had taken the Grand Duchess away into the woods.

There under the stars he had used on her the magic which would ensure an heir to the throne.

It was a very romantic story and Prince Paul had finished by saying,

“The majority of Rákónzis are red-headed or fair-skinned, but occasionally one of us is born with dark hair, dark eyes and a fair skin like yours, my precious.”

Laetitia had given a little cry of delight.

“And that, Papa, is the magic the gypsies gave the Grand Duchess!”

“Look in the mirror,” her father said, “and you will see that your hair has the blue lights that all brunettes long to have.”

He smile affectionately as he went on,

“While your lashes are also dark, my dearest, your eyes are as green as the Steppes over which the gypsies roam and your white skin which feels like a magnolia petal, is an inheritance of my family and your mother’s.”

It was true, Laetitia found when she thought about herself that she did look different from the other members of the Rákónzi family.

She had really never thought about it before and had taken it for granted that she should be a brunette while Marie-Henriette was a blonde like her mother.

But while her hair was as golden as the sunshine, there was something in the darkness of her eyes that was not quite as one would have expected.

Laetitia thought that there was some small characteristic of the gypsies to be found in the Grand Duke.

The story was to all three of Prince Paul’s children very exciting and romantic, but when the Grand Duchess assumed power she would not have it mentioned.

“Legends of that sort,” she remarked firmly, “are always lies thought up by primitive, uncivilised people because they have nothing else to think about.”

She paused to say more positively,

“I have gone carefully into the family tree and I assure you that there is not one word of truth in the story that there is gypsy blood in the Rákónzis.”

She waited to see if anybody contradicted her, but they thought it wiser not to do so and she continued,

“I have even found in the history of the family that the Grand Duchess, who was responsible for all this nonsense was treated by a very able physician in France, which ensured her having a child who later became the Grand Duke.”

She paused before she added finally,

“So that tale is not to be repeated again by anybody in this family!”

Laetitia said nothing, but, when she returned home, she looked at herself in the mirror and knew that her hair was different from that of other girls who were simply dark instead of being fair.

She remembered too how her father had said that her gracefulness came from the gypsies.

When she was alone, she would dance and found that her body was supple enough to make the turns, the twists and the double-jointed movements of the gypsies.

She could also spring as they could do into the air, leap over a lighted fire and appear almost as if they flew from the ground in a magical way of their own.

Because she was determined to know more about the life of the gypsies whenever she was out riding away from the Palace and therefore felt free of her cousin’s restrictions, she would stop and talk to any of the tribes she met as they wandered through the flower-filled valleys or climbed up the sides of the mountains.

Because they knew who she was and felt honoured by her presence, they would not only talk to her and answer some of the questions she asked, but they also taught her some of their Romany words.

Because she had a retentive memory, she soon had a quite large vocabulary.

She found, as she had expected, that they knew the legend of the Rákónzi gypsy ancestor and that they admired her dark hair because they believed, as she did, that it was inherited from them.

Because the Grand Duchess hated the gypsies this last year she had taken to persecuting them whenever she had the chance.

She banished them further and further away from the Capital so that Laetitia found it more difficult to locate them than in the past.

“How can Cousin Augustina be so cruel!” she had asked her mother angrily when it was reported in the newspapers that two gypsies accused of crimes of which they swore their innocence had been executed.

“It will create a great deal of ill feeling,” Princess Olga sighed. “Our gypsies have always been kind and friendly and part of our country.”

“You must speak with Cousin Louis, Mama, and beg him to do something about it,” Laetitia said.

“I will try,” her mother replied, “but you know, dearest, that he finds it very hard to do anything without the support of the Prime Minister – ”

“Who does what Cousin Augustina tells him!” Laetitia finished. “Oh, Mama, she is a horrible woman! I only hope the gypsies put a spell on her to make her suffer as much as she makes them suffer!”

Princess Olga gave a little cry of protest.

“Do not talk like that, dearest. It is unlucky!”

“Why should it be unlucky for us when we love the gypsies?” Laetitia asked. “Papa said I have inherited my hair from the gypsies and the way I move, and I am very proud of it.”

Princess Olga smiled, but she knew it was not only because Laetitia was so beautiful but also because she was a constant reminder of the gypsy blood in the Rákónzi family that the Grand Duchess took every opportunity of humiliating her by excluding her from the parties she gave at the Palace to which she should have been invited because of her rank.

As they were so poor and could hardly afford to entertain at all themselves, Princess Olga wondered again and again what she could do about it.

She had prayed night after night that she would have help in some way or another, first for her beloved son who was finding it hard in his Regiment to live on the very small allowance she was able to give him, secondly for Laetitia who at eighteen should be enjoying far more of a social life and lastly for Marie-Henriette, who in her own way was growing to be as beautiful as her sister.

“Oh, Paul, Paul!” the Princess cried in the darkness, “help me to do what I can for the children. At the moment I seem to be up against a blank wall!”

As always when she thought of her husband she felt her whole body reaching out to him, longing for him to be near her.

She knew, however, it was a mistake to display her sorrow to her children.

It was therefore only when she was alone with the Grand Duke that she talked of Paul because he had loved him as she had and it did not matter if he saw her tears.

Still standing at the window, Laetitia said,

“I am going to do a gypsy spell or rather make a wish that something will happen.”

“What do you want to happen?” Marie-Henriette asked, who was still sitting at the table sewing.

“Anything,” Laetitia replied. “Sometimes I feel as if we are incarcerated here and gradually we shall just grow older and older and this will be our grave.”

“Don’t talk like that!” Marie-Henriette exclaimed. “It makes me feel creepy.”

“A gypsy to whom I talked once told me of a spell and if you believe strongly enough it will always make your wish come true.”

“Well, do it!” Marie-Henriette said. “I cannot think what you are waiting for.”

“He told me you have to do it under a full moon,” Laetitia said, “which is not for another week. If I am going to have a magic wish, it might as well be a good one, so think of all the things you want, Hettie, and I will make a mental parcel of them.”

Marie-Henriette laughed.

“My wishes would fill a trunk! You can start off with a dozen new gowns and at least three or four balls at which to wear them.”

“Very well,” Laetitia said. “I will put that on the list. Anything else?”

“A tall, handsome and rich Prince, who will dance with me and pay for the gowns!”

Laetitia laughed.

‘That would be extremely improper!”

“Well, it is unlikely that Mama would be able to pay for them.”

“But she will, that is one of my wishes,” Laetitia argued. “And if you want a tall handsome Prince, I want one too!”

“Then it’s quite easy,” Marie-Henriette said. “You must wish for a pair of Princes who are both tall, handsome and immensely rich – and of course unmarried.”

Laetitia laughed.

“I think what we are asking for is as likely as finding ourselves flying to the moon, but the gypsies believe that their magic never fails.”

She gave a sudden exclamation.

“Good Heavens! It cannot be! But it is!”

“What is it?”

“It’s Stephanie. She is running here and she is alone!”

“I don’t believe it!” Marie-Henriette said. “You know as well as I do that she is never allowed to move without that grumpy old Baroness in attendance.”

“She is alone!”

Laetitia turned from the window to run across the room and into the small hall and Marie-Henriette heard her open the door.

“Stephanie! What a surprise!” she cried.

Then, as Princess Stephanie came into the hall, Laetitia saw that she was crying.

“What has happened? What is the matter?”

“Oh, Laetitia – I had to – see you!” Stephanie answered.

“But of course,” Laetitia said. “Come into the sitting room. Mama is resting so there is only me and Hettie here.”

The Princess moved into the small sitting room and Marie-Henriette rose from the table to kiss her.

“It’s so lovely to see you, Stephanie. It seems ages since you have been to see us.”

“I know – I know,” Stephanie replied, the tears running down her face, “but Mama would – not let me come – and now I have – run away when that ghastly old Baroness was not – looking.”