Queen of exiles, p.1
Queen of Exiles, page 1
Dedication
For every queen standing with a king, binding wounds.
For every mother fighting for her children and her children’s children.
For every woman choosing self over duty.
For every Haitian—we lift and believe.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Cast of Characters
Disclaimer
1. 1821, London, England
2. 1821, London, England
3. 1847, Florence, Italy
4. 1811, Milot, Hayti
5. 1811, Milot, Hayti
6. 1811, Sans-Souci, Hayti
7. 1811, Palace of Sans-Souci, Milot, Hayti
8. 1811, Palace of Sans-Souci, Milot, Hayti
9. 1811, Palace of Sans-Souci, Milot, Hayti
10. 1821, Suffolk, England
11. 1821, Suffolk, England
12. 1813, Cap-Henry, Kingdom of Hayti
13. 1813, Cap-Henry, Kingdom of Hayti
14. 1813, Sans-Souci, Kingdom of Hayti
15. 1813, Sans-Souci, Kingdom of Hayti
16. 1813, Sans-Souci, Kingdom of Hayti
17. 1813, Sans-Souci, Kingdom of Hayti
18. 1813, Citadel, Kingdom of Hayti
19. 1847, Florence, Italy
20. 1822, Blackheath, England
21. 1822, Tonbridge, England
22. 1816, Palace of Sans-Souci, Kingdom of Hayti
23. 1816, Cap-Henry, Kingdom of Hayti
24. 1817, Palace of Sans-Souci, Kingdom of Hayti
25. 1817, Milot, Kingdom of Hayti
26. 1817, Palace of Sans-Souci, Kingdom of Hayti
27. 1818, Palace of Sans-Souci, Kingdom of Hayti
28. 1818, Palace of Sans-Souci, Kingdom of Hayti
29. 1823, Hastings, England
30. 1823, Hastings, England
31. 1824, Weymouth Street, Marylebone, London
32. 1824, Weymouth Street, Marylebone, London
33. 1824, Weymouth Street, Marylebone, London
34. 1847, Tuscan Countryside, Italy
35. 1824, Liège, Belgium
36. 1824, Baden-Baden, Germany
37. 1824, Baden-Baden, Germany
38. 1824, Baden-Baden, Germany
39. 1824, Baden-Baden, Germany
40. 1824, Baden-Baden, Germany
41. 1825, Baden-Baden, Germany
42. 1826, Baden-Baden, Germany
43. 1827, Florence, Italy
44. 1828, Rome, Italy
45. 1828, Dublin, Ireland
46. 1829, Florence, Italy
47. 1847, Pisa, Italy
48. 1820, Church of St. Anne, Kingdom of Hayti
49. 1820, Palace of Sans-Souci, Kingdom of Hayti
50. 1820, Castle of Sans-Souci, Fallen Kingdom of Hayti
51. 1847, Pisa, Italy
52. 1839, Turin, Italy
53. 1839, Stresa, Italy
54. 1847, Florence, Italy
55. 1847, Florence, Italy
Afterword
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
Bibliography
About the Author
Also by Vanessa Riley
Copyright
About the Publisher
Cast of Characters
COURT OF EMPEROR JACQUES I
ALTERNATE NAMES AND TITLES
Dessalines
Jean-Jacques Dessalines
Emperor Jacques I
Jacques I
Marie-Claire Bonheur Dessalines
Empress of Hayti
Madame Dessalines
Marie-Claire Bonheur
ROYAL COURT OF HENRY I
ALTERNATE NAMES AND TITLES
Henry Christophe
President Christophe
King Henry I
Marie-Louise Christophe
Madame Christophe
Madame President
Queen Louise
HM Marie-Louise Henry
Marie-Louise Coidavid-Melgrin
François-Ferdinand Henry Christophe
firstborn son of the Christophes
François-Ferdinand
Améthyste Christophe
second child, first daughter of the Christophes
HRH Princess Françoise-Améthyste Christophe
Madame Première
Athénaïre Christophe
third child, second daughter of the Christophes
HRH Princess Anne-Athénaïre Christophe
Victor
fourth child, second son of the Christophes
Jacques-Victor Christophe
HRH Prince Jacques-Victor Henry, Prince Royal of Hayti
Armande-Eugène
son of Henry Christophe
HSH Monseigneur Prince Armande-Eugène (Christophe)
Duke (Duc) du Môle
Noël Coidavid
brother of Marie-Louise
HRH Monseigneur Prince Noël (Coidavid)
Duke (Duc) du Port-de-Paix
Prince Jean
nephew of Henry
Jean-Bernadine Sprew
Admiral HRH Monseigneur le Prince Jean
Duke (Duc) du Port-Margat
Brelle
Archbishop Jean-Baptiste-Joseph Brelle
Souliman
servant to Queen Louise
Zephyrine
maid to Queen Louise
NOBLES AND PEERS IN THE KINGDOM OF HAYTI
ALTERNATE NAMES AND TITLES
General Paul Romain
HSH Monseigneur Paul (Romain)
Prince du Limbé
Dieudonné Romain
Dame d’Atour
lady-in-waiting to Queen Louise
Princess of Limbe
Madame Dieudonné Romain
Julien Prévost
Count (Compte) Limonade
secretary of state and minister of foreign affairs
Noël Joachim
Duke (Duc) du Port-Margat
Jean-Pierre Richard
Duke (Duc) de la Marmelade
governor of Cap-Henry
Marie-Augustine Eléonore Chancy
Toussaint’s niece
HRH Dame Marie-Augustine Eléonore Chancy
Madame la Princesse Jean
Princess Jean
Dame d’Honneur to Queen Marie-Louise, widow of Lieutenant-General His Grace Monseigneur André (Vernet)
Princess of Gonaïves
Cécile Fatiman
Madame Pierrot
Countess (Countesse) de Valière
Duchess (Duchesse) de Valière
Louis Michel Pierrot
brother-in-law to Marie-Louise Christophe
General Louis Michel Pierrot
Jean-Louis Michel Pierrot
Baron de Louis Pierrot
Count (Comte) de Valière
Duke (Duc) de Valière
Vastey
Pompée Valentin Vastey
Baron de Vastey
secretary to King Henry
Dupuy
Baron Alexis de Dupuy
friend and adviser to King Henry
Stewart
Duncan Stewart
friend and physician to King Henry
Prince Saunders
American adviser to King Henry
OFFICIALS OF THE REPUBLIC
ALTERNATE NAMES AND TITLES
Pétion
President Alexandre Sabès Pétion
General Pétion
Boyer
President Jean-Pierre Boyer
EUROPEAN ARISTOCRATIC AND ROYAL CIRCLES
ALTERNATE NAMES AND TITLES
Prince Regent
George IV, regent during the late reign of King George III
Popham
Sir Home Riggs Popham, Commander, British Royal Navy
Archbishop of Canterbury
Charles Manners-Sutton
Pope
Pope Leo XII
Louis Bonaparte
brother of Napoleon Bonaparte
Count Saint-Leu
ex-king of Holland
Jérôme-Napoléon Bonaparte
youngest brother of Napoleon Bonaparte
ex-king of Westphalia
Prince de Montfort
Chateaubriand
Viscount Chateaubriand
French ambassador to Prussia
Count M
Comte de Maltverne
Prince Pückler
Prince Hermann Ludwig Heinrich von Pückler-Muskau
Lady Robert
wealthy socialite
Mrs. Camac
wealthy socialite
Dieterich Ernestus
Major Ernestus
Colonel Ernestus
ABOLITIONIST CIRCLES
ALTERNATE NAMES AND TITLES
Monsieur Wilberforce
William Wilberforce
Madame Wilberforce
wife of William Wilberforce
Clarkson
Thomas Clarkson, adviser to King Henry
Madame Clarkson
Catherine Clarkson, wife of Thomas Clarkson
Marianne Thornton
Mrs. Smyth
friend of the princesses
Patti Thornton
friend of the princesses
Sister of Marianne Thornton
Mary Inglis
friend of the princesses
OTHER NOTABLES
ALTERNATE NAMES AND TITLES
Geneviève Coidavid
Aunt Gene
Monsieur Michelson
David Michelson, reporter for the Globe
Disclaimer
The newspaper clippings presented are authentic and taken from European and West Indian papers circulating during the life and times of Madame Marie-Louise Christophe.
Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser (London), Tuesday, November 20, 1821
It is rumoured that Madame Christophe, the Queen of Hayti, while resident at one of the hotels in town, lost jewellery in the amount of £1500.
1
1821 London, England
Dumping the contents of my last trunk onto the floor, I wanted to shriek. I checked again and again, ripping at petticoats, throwing gowns into the air in my suite at the Osborne Hotel.
Nothing.
“Madame, it’s not here. Madame—”
Shaking my head, I blocked Zephyrine’s reasonable words. My jewels had to be here.
A bag with emeralds, diamonds, and rubies, along with a cluster of gold coins, items I’d risked my life smuggling out of Hayti, needed to be wrested from its hiding place. The insurance of being able to pay our way in this strange new land couldn’t vanish.
“I’ll . . . I’ll search again,” I said in a voice breaking with tears. Turning to my weathered portmanteau, something I’d gotten from my sister during my captivity, I hunted and hoped.
More tossed silks, flopping to the ground like ghosts.
More bruising of my knuckles, slapping along the bottom of an empty trunk.
More punishing fear, rocking and shredding my insides.
My maid grabbed my wrists and pulled me to the burgundy tapestry, the covering used to warm the cold floor. “It’s stolen, ma reine.”
Wet streaks drizzled down Zephyrine’s brown cheeks to the front of her white bib apron. Prim and pressed and resolute in her service to me, my friend awaited orders from her sovereign.
“I’m not that anymore. I’m no longer queen.” Flat and pulsing, wanting to grab onto something real, I stilled my hands. “I’m just Madame Christophe. Nothing more.”
My fingers sank deeper into the softness of the woven silk, the colorful Indian rug. I could picture the care and labor it had cost to produce this treasure upon a loom, but I had to clutch, to claw at something, something I could fight.
“It’s not here.” Zephyrine sniffled, then gulped a breath. “We’ve checked and checked. The necklaces, the bracelets, and the pins are gone.”
She was right. We had nothing.
Nothing to sell to pay for food or these fancy lodgings.
No rings.
No pearls.
Not even my favorite emerald pieces.
The yellow satin bag with all the valuables that the man I loved, my king, had given me had disappeared.
Turning from her, I wanted to pretend nothing had happened, but I’d lived through so many things I wanted to wish away.
Couldn’t this merely be another nightmare, oui?
Exile to Europe was to be salvation, renewal. I wanted to pray, but God wouldn’t hear an angry woman.
My life, my fairy-tale life of being picked from obscurity to reign over a nation, all had been torn away. The evidence of that other life, my jewels—some thief had stolen.
But we had lived it . . . we’d been wealthy and happy and royal.
“Madame, how will we survive? To be robbed of your treasures means ruin. At Lambert House, fruit grew on trees. A beggar can eat in the jungle.”
“Back to Hayti? Barely existing, surrounded by armed guards, hoping their fickle leader won’t execute what remains of the people I love? Non!”
I covered my mouth, wanting to erase my words from the air.
No one needed to know how helpless I felt in my beloved Hayti. Ever since I left my parents’ care, I’d stood on my own, grown up fast, outlived rebellions, and kept my babies safe in the wilderness. A robbery couldn’t be the thing that destroyed me.
Fury roiled in my gut. The dread, the fear I’d kept to myself, exploded, quaking my insides, flooding my face like a turbulent river. I dug into a pile of clothes, strangling a shift like it was the robber or the man who ended my kingdom.
“Madame,” my maid said. “You’ve shown the pieces to Monsieur Wilberforce. He was to help you sell some to get money. He’ll visit tomorrow. Wouldn’t he know what to do?”
The creamy hem of a discarded dress became a handkerchief. Taking my time, I dabbed at my face, letting the soft lace soothe my skin. “I don’t know.” I mumbled more scared words and swallowed tears. “I just don’t know.”
Zephyrine pulled me to her shoulder. “How could this happen? Have we not been careful?”
I hadn’t been showy, but I’d worn my bracelet over my mourning drape. The gold had surely caught a criminal’s eyes.
Reclaiming my posture, the etiquette Lord Limonade, the Haytian court’s protocol master, had ingrained, I sat up straight and fingered the scuffed lock on my trunk. “It’s been gouged. Someone came into our rooms, pried this open, and stole my valuables.”
This crime was blatant, occurring during the day, perhaps when we’d gone downstairs to sup. Did he think we’d not notice? Or did she assume no one would help the poor exile, the foreigner?
“We’ll not let them win, Zephyrine. Monsieur Wilberforce will help.”
“The hotel maids.” She wiped at her eyes. “Perhaps they saw something.”
Only the Osborne staff had access to enter.
Zephyrine began picking up the clutter I’d created. “At least a Blanc saw the diamonds and emeralds in your possession. He’ll be believed. Otherwise, no one here would think a Black could have such finery.”
Her words kicked me in the gut.
Bang, I sank again to the floor. My stomach pushed flat. Air gushed out of my mouth. I wept, wept as hard as when the kingdom fell.
Unprotected, my girls, my household, and I were in a place of danger where skin color was more important than truth. The safe Black world we’d built was gone.
A WEEK HAD DRAGGED BY SINCE THE THEFT OF MY PROPERTY. THE manager of the Osborne Hotel seemed apologetic, and in his blue eyes, I saw embarrassment. Dignitaries stayed at this place. He begged Wilberforce to give him a chance to make inquiries.
Leaning by a window looking out at the Thames, I noted the fog had lifted. In Milot, that meant sunshine. Here, it held no meaning. The temperature might barely rise. The humidity and heat of my lush home would be another lost memory.
Chastising myself for my complaints, I reached for my wrist, the empty spot where my emerald should be sitting. I was lucky to be here, lucky to be alive, lucky to have brought with me my daughters and my loyal attendants, Zephyrine and Souliman.
How would I lead them when our escape to London had gone so wrong?
Going to their bedroom door, I peeked at the girls sleeping together on a single mattress. Snuggled in warm bedclothes, piled under blankets in a world that for the moment wasn’t moving, wasn’t rocking or shifting like international alliances, I merely watched them breathe. I’d checked on them several times throughout the night, as if goblins might steal them, too.
There should be more beds, holding more of my family. If the kingdom had to end, we all should be exiled from Hayti.
Leaving the suite like a silent mouse, I crept down the stairs. Souliman waited at the bottom—no flintlock rifle but a cane in his hands. His scowl menaced.
The large bags under his eyes declared he hadn’t slept, either. I dared not look in a mirror. The papers once called me Henry’s old Black wife. I’d surely aged thirty years since the kingdom fell.
“Souliman, are you well?”
“Peu importe. Non. Don’t matter. I failed.” He beat at his chest. “I let them thieve you.”
He talked fast, using bits of Kreyòl and French. Again, he pounded his white shirt. “I should’ve been with the trunks. Pa ta dwe janm! Should’ve never taken my eyes off your treasures.”
No one could watch everything forever. Couldn’t even stare at a son wishing for his safety or comfort him when darkness came. I took a handkerchief from my pocket and gave it to Souliman. He was twenty-eight, an age my Victor would never see. “You had to eat. Seeing to maids is not one of your duties.”
