As beautiful as her legend

‘The evening sunlight fading to make the colours hum more and more melodiously was a pleasure to us all. Greta did not seem to notice the magical effects, of which she in pink with pink and white striped trousers became a part and in this light she became as beautiful as her legend.’ This is Cecil Beaton writing in his diary about Greta Garbo, his ex-lover who was about to turn 60. Beaton, once obsessed by Garbo had wanted to marry her. They remained friends for decades, at least until Beaton published his diaries revealing the intimacies of their relationship. Today marks 110 years since Garbo’s birth.

Greta Lovisa Gustafsson was born in Stockholm on 18 September 1905 into a working class family. She left school at 13, and looked after her ill father. He died in 1920. Thereafter, she worked briefly in a barber’s shop, before taking a job in the PUB department store. Before long, she was modelling hats, and had secured more lucrative employment as a fashion model. In late 1920, she appeared in her first film commercial for the store, advertising women’s clothing. She made further advertising films, but, in 1922, the director Erik Arthur Petschler gave her a part in his short comedy, Peter the Tramp. From 1922 to 1924, she studied at the Royal Dramatic Theatre’s acting school in Stockholm; and it was during this period that she changed her name to Garbo.

The prominent Swedish director Mauritz Stiller recruited Garbo in 1924, and nurtured her for his films; but she then caught the eye of MGM’s Louis B. Mayer who asked her - still only 20 and unable to speak English - to come to the US. Once there, she and Stiller heard no word from Mayer, but eventually MGM’s head of production Irving Thalberg gave Garbo a screen test, and she was cast in Torrent. Stiller was hired to direct the next film for Garbo, The Temptress, but was soon fired. Garbo received rave reviews and went on to make eight more silent movies, turning her into a Hollywood star. John Gilbert, with whom she had an affair, was her co-star in several of these films, and is said to have taught her how to behave like a star, how to socialise at parties, and how to deal with studio bosses.

Despite concerns about her Swedish accent, she proved as much of a success when, from the early 1930s, MGM started making sound movies. Her first talkie, Anna Christie, was the highest grossing film of the year, and led to her first Oscar nomination. By 1933, she had negotiated a new contract with MGM, earning her $300,000 per film. Garbo continued to work, starring in films such as The Painted Veil, Anna Karenina, Camille and her first comedy, Ninotchka. With the success of Ninotchka, MGM chose another comedy, Two-Faced Woman, to be directed by George Cukor (who had directed Camille). This was not a critical success, and the negative reviews deeply affected Garbo. Although not intending to retire, in fact, she never made another film. Many a project was offered her in the 1940s, and she accepted some, but every one of them fell through.

Garbo never married or had children, though she had various affairs with men and women. Among these were the conductor Leopold Stokowski, the author Erich Maria Remarque, the photographer Cecil Beaton, and the poet Mercedes de Acosta. Her relationships with the latter two, in particular, have given rise to books: Greta & Cecil by Diana Souhami and Loving Garbo: The Story of Greta Garbo, Cecil Beaton and Mercedes de Acosta by Hugo Vickers (both published by Jonathan Cape, 1994).

From the early days of her career, Garbo avoided society, preferring to spend her time alone or with friends. She never signed autographs or answered fan mail, and rarely gave interviews. In 1951, she became a naturalised US citizen, and in 1953 bought an apartment in Manhattan where she lived for the rest of her life. She became increasingly withdrawn in time - though she would occasionally take holidays with friends - and was known for walking the city, dressed casually and wearing large sunglasses.

According to the 1979 edition of Encyclopaedia Britannica ‘Garbo had, in the opinion of her directors and most critics, a perfect instinct for doing the right thing before the camera. Her talent, her great beauty, and her indifference to public opinion made her career unique in the history of the cinema.’ She died in 1990. Further information is available from Wikipedia, the ‘Official website for the legendary screen actress and fashion icon’, the fan site Garbo Forever, or the online Encyclopædia Britannica.

There’s no evidence I can find of Garbo ever having kept a diary. However, she was the subject of other people’s journals, and, in particular, the memoir published by de Acosta (Here Lies the Heart) and the diaries published by Beaton. She considered herself betrayed by both ex-lovers for making public such intimate details. Beaton, himself, appeared fully conscious of the hurt he might cause to Garbo by publishing his diaries - though it wasn’t until he was long dead that some of his diaries were published in an expurgated form - see Nerves before a sitting. She also features in diaries kept by Remarque, but these have yet to be published and only short quotes about Garbo have appeared (in Great Garbo: A life apart, by Karen Swenson, for example).

Beaton’s diaries - especially those from the 1940s published as The Happy Years - are full of Beaton’s obsession with Garbo. A New York Times review says: ‘The core material for Loving Garbo was drawn from Beaton’s diaries and letters, in which he recorded his impressions of Garbo in minute detail, along with every seismic tremor of their relationship. Although Beaton’s encomiums to Garbo’s cheekbones and extra-thick eyelashes betray a rhapsodic giddiness, his writing never loses its undertone of shrewdness and common sense. And much as he may adore Garbo, he repeatedly evokes her as an object to be coveted for its social and economic value.’

Here are a few extracts about Garbo in Beaton’s diaries taken from published sources.

3 November 1947 [source: Loving Garbo: The Story of Greta Garbo, Cecil Beaton and Mercedes de Acosta]
‘I was completely surprised at what was happening & it took me some time to recover my bafflement. Within a few minutes of our reunion, after these long & void periods, of months of depression & doubt, we were suddenly together in unexplained, unexpected and inevitable intimacy. It is only on such occasions that one realises how fantastic life can be. I was hardly able to bridge the gulf so quickly & unexpectedly. I had to throw my mind back to the times at Reddish House when in my wildest dreams I had invented scenes that were now taking place.’

October 1956 [source: Loving Garbo: The Story of Greta Garbo, Cecil Beaton and Mercedes de Acosta]
‘She is like a man in many ways. She telephoned to say, I thought we might try a little experiment this evening at 6.30. But she spoke in French and it was difficult to understand at first what she meant. But soon I discovered, although I pretended not to. She was embarrassed and a certain pudeur on my part made me resent her frankness and straightforwardness - something that I should have respected.’

July 1965 [source: Beaton in the Sixties - The Cecil Beaton Diaries as they were written]
‘I arrived at Vougliameni, the appointed bay where the yachts were harboured. Greta was the first I saw, sitting with her back to the quay, she had tied her haired back into a small pigtail with a rubber band. The effect was pleasing, neat and Chinese but the hair has become grey. The surprised profile turned to reveal a big smile. It was almost the same, and yet no, the two intervening years since we’ve last met have created havoc. I was appalled how destroyed her skin has become, covered with wrinkles, double chin, but worse the upper lip has jagged lower and the skin has perished into little lines, and there is a furriness that is disastrous. But no sign of defeat on Greta’s part. She was up to her old tricks. ‘My, my, my! Why can it be Beattie? Me Beat!’ [. . .]

In the apricot-colored light of the evening she still looks absolutely marvellous and she could be cleverly photographed to appear as beautiful as ever in films. But it is not just her beauty that is dazzling, it is the air of mysteriousness and other intangible qualities that make her so appealing, particularly when talking with sympathy and wonder to children or reacting herself to some situation with all the wonder and surprise of childhood itself.’

August 1965 [source: Beaton in the Sixties - The Cecil Beaton Diaries as they were written]
‘The evening sunlight fading to make the colours hum more and more melodiously was a pleasure to us all. Greta did not seem to notice the magical effects, of which she in pink with pink and white striped trousers became a part and in this light she became as beautiful as her legend. But it is a legend that does no longer exist in reality. If she had been a real character she would have left the legend, developed a new life, new interests and knowledge. As it is, after thirty years she has not changed except outwardly, and even the manner and personality has dated. Poor old Marlene Dietrich, with her dye and facelift and new career as a singer, with all her nonsense, is a live and vital person, cooking for her grandchildren and being on the go. That is much preferable to this other non-giving, non-living phantom of the past.’

(However, it is worth noting that, in his diary in 1967, Beaton writes down almost the exact opposite thought: ‘G. looked quite beautiful because she looked completely natural. Her skin was glowing and her eyes filled with so many expressions. Marlene Dietrich, on the stage, can still look marvellously young in an artificial way, but she is a monster. Greta is a real-live human being.’)

13 April 1973 [source: The Unexpurgated Beaton - The Cecil Beaton Diaries as they were written]
‘The day was not without its setbacks. Whether or not it was out of malice a commentator, after a radio interview, gave me a review of my book by - of all people - Auberon Waugh, the son of my old arch enemy. He seems to have inherited the spleen of his father. A devastating attack aimed to reduce me to a shred. It hurt. Then a horrid little woman journalist, referring to it, said, ‘You’re supposed to be a marvellous person, but they say your book is awful’ and she handed me Waugh’s review. [. . .] I do feel terribly guilty about exposing Garbo to public glare. Even though those things happened thirty years ago, my conscience has been pricking me terribly. Yet I know that if I had the option of not publishing it, I would still go ahead - and suffer. I only trust Greta can rise above it in the way she did about Mercedes’s book.’

A Swede in the Mid-West

Eric Norelius, a Swede who emigrated to America and became a key figure in the Swedish Lutheran church there, was born 180 years ago today. He kept a diary from aged 15 which is considered of minor historical importance. Parts of this have been translated into English, but there are no extracts freely available online, just reviews of the published works.

Norelius was born in Hassela, Helsingia, on 26 October 1833, but migrated to the US in 1850. He was trained as a priest at Capital University in Columbus, Ohio, and was ordained in 1855. That same year he married Inga Peterson, and they had five children. In 1856, he moved to become pastor of a new Swedish-Lutheran congregation in Vasa, Minnesota, and then Attica, Indiana, for a few years before returning to Vasa.

In 1860, Norelius was one of the founders of the Augustana Lutheran Synod (which only merged into the Lutheran Church in 1962). He was its president from 1874 to 1881 and from 1901 to 1910. He is also regarded as the founder of Gustavus Adolphus College. In 1892, he was awarded a doctorate in theology. Throughout his ministry, he was active in publishing, launching and/or editing a variety of Swedish language publications. From 1899 until 1909, he was editor of Tidskrift för svensk evangelisk luthersk kyrkohistoria i Amerika, later called The Augustana Theological Quarterly.

The last years of Norelius’s life were spent researching and writing the history of the synod and the Swedish migration to, and settlement in, America. He died in 1916. Further information is available online from Wikipedia, the Augustana Heritage Association, or the Minnesota Encyclopaedia.

For much of his life, Norelius kept a diary. He used this extensively for an autobiographical work, published posthumously, in 1934, by the Augustana Book Concern: Early Life of Eric Norelius (1833-1862), Journal of a Swedish Immigrant in the Middle West. This can be borrowed digitally from Internet Archive, and here are two reviews of the book.

The Mississippi Valley Historical Review (Vol. 22 No. 2, September 1935): ‘In this autobiography of the early years of an outstanding leader of the Swedish people in America, the student of western history, as well as of immigrants, will find much of value. The volume describes Eric Norelius’ childhood on a Swedish farm and his migration to America in 1850, where he hoped to acquire the education he despaired of attaining in Sweden. [. . .] The autobiography, written in 1916 when Norelius was eighty-three years old, is based on his diaries, and parts of it consists of excerpts from them.’

In its review, Minnesota History (Vol. 16 No. 2 June 1935) asks how reliable are the memoirs of an old man, and concludes: ‘Norelius himself answers the question: “There are many facts and events that we have seen or experienced in our childhood of youth which are remembered vividly. This has been the writer’s experience. Furthermore, I have kept a diary since the fifteenth year of my life.” ’

Some 30 years later, in 1967, Fortress Press published a more substantial volume - The Journals of Eric Norelius: A Swedish Missionary on the American Frontier - which was translated and edited by G. Everett Arden. Again, I can find no single quotation or extract from the book online, but Minnesota History Magazine (Vol. 40 No. 7) reviewed the book as follows:

‘Of the five sections into which these journals are divided, the first four, extending from Norelius’ birth in 1833 at Hassela, Sweden, to his ordination at Dixon, Illinois, in 1855, consist of Professor Arden’s translations of the “Minnesbok.” Norelius used this diary as the basis of autobiographical articles first published in Korsbaneret (1888-90) and Augustana (1930-31), which were translated by the Reverend Emeroy Johnson and published in book form by the Augustana Book Concern as Early Life of Eric Norelius (1934).

In these posthumously published articles Norelius usually elaborated on the “Minnesbok” versions, but sometimes the original is fuller. At times, as in the episode of the diarist’s meeting with the Baptist Anders Wiberg in 1853, there is immediacy (and in this case acerbity) in the “Minnesbok” which is lacking in the version written for publication. The final section describes a “Missionary Journey to the West Coast, 1885-1886,” which also originally appeared in Augustana.

Mr. Arden, whose work is well known to those interested in the history of Swedish-American Lutheranism, has provided a most useful introduction. In this he shows the place of Norelius in relation to religious developments in Sweden, to the beginnings of the Augustana Lutheran Church, and to the Swedish peopling of the Middle West - in particular Minnesota, which was the missionary’s permanent home from 1860 to his death in 1916. The editor-translator has also provided useful explanatory notes and an index, thus filling to some extent a gap left by Mr. Johnson in his work of 1934.

The most profound impression left on this reviewer by these journals is one of the comparative weakness of Lutheranism in the early years of the second Swedish migration, surrounded as it was by a mass of indifference to religion, and beset by competition from Episcopalians, Eric Jansonists, and (more notably) Baptists and Methodists, all of whom were in the field before the fathers of Augustana began their work.’


The Diary Junction

H-t was with me

August Strindberg, considered by some to be the most celebrated Swedish author and playwright of all time, died a century ago today. Not known as a diarist, he did keep an intermittent journal - with very brief entries - for 10 years or so towards the end of his life. Parts of the journal were published in an English translation in 1965; and now, in celebration of the centenary, a Stockholm gallery has made the diary entries available online.

August was the third of seven children born to Carl Strindberg, a Stockholm shipping magnate, and his religious wife Ulrika, who died when August was 13. He attended the University of Uppsala for two years, but thereafter did various jobs including being a journalist, tutoring and accounting for some local theatres. In 1870, his first play was produced by the Royal Dramatic Theatre; other, mostly historical, plays followed to mixed reviews. In 1874, he took up a post at the Royal Library, a position he would keep until 1882.

In 1877, Strindberg married Siri Wrangel, who had been an officer’s wife but was avidly interested in the theatre. The couple had three children but the marriage was always under strain, partly because of Siri’s determination to be an actress. Strindberg’s first major success did not come until 1879 with publication of The Red Room, a satirical novel. In 1882 a short story collection, The New Kingdom, so scandalised Stockholm society that Strindberg left Sweden.

For much of the 1880s, Strindberg and his family lived in Paris and Switzerland. In 1887, the couple divorced and Strindberg moved to Denmark. It was also the year, he had his first major play, The Father, published and performed (in Copenhagen). The following year he wrote Miss Julie. Strindberg, not feeling appreciated in Scandinavia, moved to Berlin for a short period. He married his second wife, the young Austrian Frieda Uhl, and they had one daughter, but after a year or so, they too divorced. Around 1895, Strindberg appears to have become interested in occultism, which led to him writing The Inferno.

In 1897, Strindberg returned to Sweden and embarked on a productive period of his life, writing more plays. In 1901, he married for a third time, to Harriet Bosse, a young actress, but by the time the couple’s daughter was born in 1902, they were living apart. In 1907, he launched the Intima Teater, to show off his own plays. Although initially successful, it ran into financial problems and closed in 1910. Strindberg died on 14 May 1912. Further information in English is available from Wikipedia, Encyclopaedia Britannica or the Theatre Database. The Strindberg Museum in Stockholm and the Stockholm Visitors Board both have listings of events connected with the centenary of Strindberg’s death.

Towards the end of his life, from 1896 to 1908, Strindberg kept a diary. The entries are usually very brief (sometimes only a single word) and intermittent, and many of them concern his relationship with Harriet Bosse. It was first published in Swedish in 1963, as Ur Ockulta Dagboken, and then it was translated into English by Mary Sandbach for publication in 1965 by Secker & Warburg as From an Occult Diary: Marriage with Harriet Bosse.

To coincide with the centenary, the City of Stockholm’s Liljevalchs art gallery is preparing a major Strindberg exhibition later this year; and, in connection with this, has launched the Strindberg2012 website to ‘let August himself do the talking’ by publishing the Occult Diary entries online - in Swedish and in English. The website cites as it sources the original manuscript, Mary Sandbach’s translation, and further translation by Hans Olsson. Annika Hansson Wretman of Liljevalchs and Mats Ingerdal of AGoodId (a communications agency) are credited with the website’s conception, transcription and realisation.

13 May 1897
‘Had horrible coffee in the morning, which ruined my nervous system and made me unable to work the whole day.’

22 January 1898
‘I’m turning 49 (7x7) years old. Last night: dreamt I found some occult books, black magic. Wanted out from a cowhouse but it was dark and I couldn’t find the exit. Woke with palpitations, and heard people above leaving. Kléen arrived.’

3 January 1901
‘Have been plagued for a couple of months by a smell of Celery; everything tastes and smells of Celery. When I take off my shirt at night it smells of Celery. What can it be?’

1 March 1905
‘Awoke by seeing a bedbug on my quilt, which I killed.’

15 January 1906
‘Spent the evening with H-t. Poisonous, gloomy, so I had to leave. H-t told me she had had a terrible inferno day; absolutely indescribable.’

10 February 1908
‘Today, the eagle was removed, which Harriet and I bought for our home. (It was, however, an eagless.) At the same moment, I broke a Japanese vase; dry rose petals fell to the floor.’

20 April 1908
‘This evening she came again, like roses, loving and full of longing. Night came; she slept on my arm, but did not desire me until towards morning, then x x x’

21 April 1908
‘The whole morning, solely as roses. Later she disappeared! In the evening she returned, but went again. At night apathetic and calm until the morning,when she sought me x x x’

23 April 1908
‘A heavy day, spent in idleness. Slept much. H-t away, but towards evening could feel her stretching me below the chest. Went to bed, grew calmer. No contact with H-t during the night. I sought her but did not find her until 5 o’clock, x x’

24 April 1908
‘A glorious morning; H-t was with me all forenoon, gentle, loving, like flowers in my mouth! Now I believe that she is free, and that we are united! But no, she disappeared in the evening, when Axel came; and although I received a summons to go to bed at 10 o’clock, she was not there to meet me. Slept, and experienced faithlessness; had bad dreams but was left in peace until morning when she sought me with passion, but without love. I responded x x x.’

For the love of Marie

One of the bravest and most dashing of heroes, the very flesh and blood of 18th century adventures, died two centuries ago today. But Axel von Fersen, a high-born and well-educated Swede, was not only noble and courageous, especially with regard to his love for the Queen of France, Marie Antoinette, but he was a decent diarist too, recording his own emotions as lightly as his feats of daring-do.

Axel Fersen was born in 1755 into a rich and powerful family - his father Frederik was a leading Swedish politician - and he was well educated. At 15, he went abroad on a tour lasting four years. During this period he attended the Brunswick Military Academy and the University of Turin, and while in Paris he met Marie Antoinette, only months before her husband Louis XVI became King and she Queen. He joined the French army and went to fight with the colonists in the US during the War of Independence, distinguishing himself at the Siege of Yorktown.

On returning to Paris as a diplomat, von Fersen’s friendship with Marie Antoinette flourished - though whether they were actual lovers is still hotly debated by historians. When the Revolution broke out, he tried - but failed - to organise for the King and Queen to escape. Later, he also served in Vienna and Brussels for a European coalition against the Revolution. After Marie Antoinette’s death, he returned to Sweden.

When Sweden’s King Gustav IV was overthrown in the 1809 revolution, von Fersen supported the king’s son rather than the populist Carl August. The latter died suddenly in 1810, and it was rumoured that von Fersen had conspired in the murder, and this led to an unruly mob seeking revenge and killing him - on 20 June 1810, two hundred years ago today. A few months after his death, though, he was cleared of any suspicion connected with the death of Carl August and received a ceremonial state burial. See Wikipedia for more biographical information.

For most of his life, starting when he was still in his teens, von Fersen kept diaries - though those from 1780 to early 1791 were destroyed. A first collection was first published in English as Diary and Correspondence of Count Axel Fersen Grand-Marshal of Sweden relating to the Court of France by Hardy, Pratt & Company, Boston, in 1902. This is freely available at Internet Archive. Here is the very first diary entry found in that book.

17 October 1771
‘I find here all sorts of extraordinary customs which divert me much. For instance, the town clock is always one hour in advance of the clocks of other countries. This difference, they tell me, goes back to a remote period when the inhabitants resolved to kill their chief magistrate, who, warned of the plot, foiled the conspirators by putting on the hands of the clock. It is not permissible to dance in Basle unless the master of the house plays the violin himself; and you can drive in a carriage only up to ten o’clock at night, without servants behind, and in a plain carriage of one colour only and no gilding. It is forbidden to have silk fringes in the carriage or on the harness when you drive to church, and the ladies must wear black, not gowns but dishabilles. Diamonds, pearls, laces, and pretty things of all kinds are forbidden. It is good taste not to go out before five o’clock; at that hour visits are made to family circles.

One of my acquaintances offered to take me to the Assemblee du Printemps; he presented me first to his sister and she introduced me to this assembly, which is entirely composed of young girls. What surprised me extremely was to see these young ladies arriving alone, or with a gentleman, and no maid or man-servant. They played cards and talked with foreigners or with the young men of the town who had the honour to be admitted. They go to walk in the promenades all alone.’

More recently, in 1971, G Bell & Sons, London published Rescue the Queen: A Diary of the French Revolution 1789-1793. Here are some extracts.

From the prologue:
‘The diaries in this book describe how Fersen made the only serious attempt to save the French royal family, and of its tense tragic failure; but they make light of Fersen’s personal courage and energy. The failure seemed to break him, although he sought in vain to rally help among the emigres and from Marie Antoinette’s own brother, the Emperor Joseph in Vienna.’

From the epilogue:
‘Even these diaries have had a romantic history. For almost a hundred years they lay forgotten among the family papers in a Swedish castle. Then in 1878 they appeared in French by Fersen’s great-nephew, Baron R M Klinkowstrom; but he deliberately omitted many of the more intimate details of Fersen’s relationship with the Queen, claiming that the passages had been deleted . . . Historians waited excitedly for the chance to examine the whole correspondence; only to be cruelly deceived. Klinkowstrom was a gentleman of the old school, and a woman’s love-letters are not for public reading; so before his death he burnt the most important ones. What you read in this book is taken from the edition of 1925 by Alma Söderhjelm, who published the complete diaries and letters . . .’

18 June 1791
‘Very nice weather. With her from 2:30 to 6pm. Opera Comique. Good letter form the Emperor. The British fleet is said to have left port.’

20 June 1791
‘Both said to me that they must leave at all costs. We arranged the hour of day etc. In the event of their arrest I was to go to Brussels and try to do something for them. On taking leave of me the King said: ‘M de Fersen, whatever may happen, I shall never forget all you have done for me.’ The Queen wept a great deal. At six I left her and then she went for her customary walk with the children without any special safety precautions. I went home to get ready . . .’

21 June 1791
‘Fine, everything went well. Some delay between Maretz and Le Cateau. The Commander of the militia asked for my name; I was afraid. Drove through Le Quesnoy and crossed the frontier near Saint-Vast.’

22 June 1791
‘Fine, very cold at night. Reached Mons at six o’clock. . . In the street I was asked by a monk whether the King was safe. Left there at eleven o’clock; flat country as far as Namur, then hilly. All are happy about the King’s rescue.’

23 June 1791
‘Fine but cold. Reached Arlon at eleven pm. There found Bouillé; learnt that the King had been caught. No details were known; the troops were unreliable. The King was lacking in firmness and presence of mind. Stayed there overnight.’

24 June 1791
‘Departed at 4:30 in the morning. Everybody greatly upset about the King’s arrest. Desperately depressed. The whole of Luxembourg in despair about the King’s capture. How everything has changed!’

3 February 1792
‘Letter from her, saying that my visit is impossible because of the new regulations which make personal passports compulsory; it would mean abandoning the idea. Things look bad for me and for politics . . . The matter concerning passports is designed to prevent any possible escape by the King; quite clever of them.’

6 February 1792
‘A letter from the Queen telling me that the King would not agree to the new passport regulations; Frenchmen also write to say that they have crossed the frontier without trouble. I therefore decided to go to Paris. Wrote to inform her.’

10 February 1792
‘Prepared everything for my journey.’

11 February 1792
‘Left at 9:30 without my servant and with Reutersvard in the courier’s coach. We carried couriers’ passports for Portugal issued in fictitious names as well as letters addressed to the Queen of Portugal and the Memorandum from the King (of Sweden) to the King of France. I had put everything together with a false code key into an envelope of the Swedish Embassy in Paris and had also forged the King’s signature; a further envelope was addressed to our chargé d’affairs Bergstedt and everything was sealed with the Swedish great seal manufactured here. For the sake of safety I also carried credentials appointing me Ambassador to the Queen of Portugal. At eight o’clock we reached Tournay where we stayed overnight.’

12 February 1792
‘Fine and mild. Left at 3:30 in the morning. Reutersvard visited the Commander M d’Aponcourt in the evening to obtain post horses; d’Aponcourt took him to be a Swedish courier and thought it would take fourteen days to reach Paris and that he would be stopped everywhere. . . Arrived in Gournay at 1:30 in the morning. I concealed myself as far as possible; wore a wig. Everywhere, especially in Péronne, people were very courteous, even the National Guardsmen.’

13 February 1792
‘. . . Reached Paris without any further incident at 5:30 in the evening . . . went to see her by the usual route, for fear of the National Guardsmen; she lives in magnificent surroundings; did not see the King. Stayed there.’

14 February 1792
‘Very fine and mild. Saw the King at six o’clock in the evening. He does not want to leave and because of the extremely strict guard he would be unable to do so; but the real reason is that he has scruples since he has promised so often to stay, because he is a man of honour. He has, however, agreed to go through the woods with the smugglers after the arrival of the Allied Armies, accompanied by a detachment of light troops.’

18 November 1793
‘The Queen always slept fully dressed in black because she expected to be killed or guillotined at any moment and she wanted to go to the scaffold dressed in mourning. . . I shall love the proud, unhappy princess as long as I live . . . Oh, how my life is changed - how small are the prospects for happiness - to think that once upon a time my life was among the most beautiful and enviable in the world.’

The Wallenberg curse

The Wall Street Journal has just published a series of articles about Raoul Wallenberg, the Swedish diplomat working in Budapest who saved thousands of Jews but who went missing in the last months of the Second World War. In particular, the newspaper draws attention to a diary kept by Raoul’s stepfather, Fredrik von Dardel, for over 25 years, most of which is about the search for Raoul.

Raoul Wallenberg’s story is well-known and well documented. Wikipedia has a fully-referenced summary, and there is a long biography on the website of The International Raoul Wallenberg Foundation. There are also dozens of books about the man, many of them on Googlebooks, such as Wallenberg: Missing Hero by Kati Marton, which claims on the cover that he saved 100,000 Jews.

Wallenberg was born in 1912 into a wealthy Swedish family, three months after his father had died. In 1918, his mother married Fredrik von Dardel, and they had two children, Guy and Nina. In the 1930s, Wallenberg went to study architecture in the US, but then worked for a construction company in South Africa and a bank in Haifa. On returning to Stockholm, he joined the Central European Trading Company, owned by Kálmán Lauer a Hungarian-Jew. From the early 1940s, he began to travel to Hungary as Lauer’s aide, and was soon a part owner of the company and a director.

By the spring of 1944, Allied leaders were considering what to do about the persecution and deportation of Jews in Hungary. One consequence was that the American War Refugee Board sent a representative to Stockholm looking for someone willing and able to go to Budapest to organise a rescue programme. In July that year, Wallenberg travelled to the Hungarian capital as the First Secretary of the Swedish legation, and for the next six months organised safe housing and protective passports for Jews, saving tens of thousands of lives (possibly 100,000 as the Marton book claims, but certainly 20,000). At its peak, the rescue programme involved as many as 350 helpers.

In January 1945, though, the Soviet army entered Budapest, and Wallenberg was arrested under suspicion of being an American spy. He disappeared, almost certainly to a prison in Russia. In 1957, the Soviets announced that Wallenberg had actually died of a heart attack in 1947, but some believed/believe he might have been executed. A Swedish report in 2001 concluded as follows, ‘there is no fully reliable proof of what happened to Raoul Wallenberg’, so the manner and timing of his death remain a mystery. For the rest of their lives Wallenberg’s mother and stepfather fought to find out what had happened to Raoul, often against staunch resistance from the Swedish authorities. In 1979, they both committed suicide, acts which their daughter Nina Lagergren attributed to despair.

Thereafter, Nina and Guy continued their parents’ campaign for the truth, and to foster knowledge about their brother. Both appear to have recently contributed to a series of articles in The Wall Street Journal. The first is entitled The Wallenberg Curse - The Search for the Missing Holocaust Hero Began in 1945. The Unending Quest Tore His Family Apart. Another article explains where the mystery stands today; and a third piece provides an example of the diary kept by von Dardel.

Frederik von Dardel began writing the diary on 24 October 1952, his 34th wedding anniversary, and would maintain it until a year before his death. The diaries were donated to the Swedish National Archives in 1985, but were only made available to the public in 2000. Officials say no one has been very interested in them, at least not until The Wall Street Journal showed up. It claims to have read thousands of family journal entries, letters and documents, and hundreds of interviews - and to have been the first to read most of them.

The paper gives brief extracts from the first and last entries in this diary (translated by Amalia Johnsson). Of the first, on 24 October 1952, it says there are two paragraphs devoted to von Dardel’s wife, and that he then turns ‘to the stepson who had come to call him Papa’: ‘Raoul Wallenberg’s fate has lain like a dark cloud over our existence.’ And with regard to the last entry, 25 years later, on 28 April 1978, it says, von Dardel concluded the diary with two English words: ‘stone wall’.

The Wall Street Journal also gives another, longer extract from the diary, in which von Dardel explains how, in connection with the king’s 70th birthday, Raoul was awarded the medal ‘Illis quorum meruere labores’ (For Those Whose Labors Have Deserved It), partly as a result of efforts by Stockholm-based Austrian author Rudolph Philipp. Here are the last few paragraphs of the story as written in von Dardel’s diary.

12 November 1952
‘. . . it was nevertheless decided that Raoul, in connection with the rain of decorations on the king’s 70th birthday would receive ‘Illis quorum’. Philipp’s action also aimed for this distinction to mark the Foreign Ministry’s understanding that Raoul was still alive.

So it was also understood by all the newspapers save Svenska Dagbladet, which mentioned the news item under the headline Posthumous Distinction for Raoul Wallenberg.

This was irksome, especially as this paper is the lifeblood of our social circle. After I and several others had shaken up the editorial staff, they introduced in the regional edition, and in the following day’s Stockholm edition, a correct statement in a prominent place.’

Lagerlöf and Speare

Coincidentally, two writers with anniversaries this week wrote semi-fictional diaries of childhood, but neither were actually diarists. In her final published work, Sweden’s Selma Lagerlöf, the first female writer to win the Nobel Prize for literature, fictionalised her own childhood; while Elizabeth George Speare, born almost exactly 50 years after Lagerlof, was inspired by the real diary of a woman captured by American indians for her first historical children’s novel.

Selma Lagerlöf was born 150 years ago, on 20 November 1958, in Värmland, Sweden, and brought up at Mårbacka, the family estate. In 1881, she moved to Stockholm and studied at a teachers’ college, before, in 1885, taking a position at a school in Landskrona. In 1890, a Swedish weekly magazine awarded her first prize in a literary competition, and the following year, her first book was published. By 1895, she was receiving sufficient financial support from the royal family and the Swedish Academy to forgo teaching and concentrate on writing. In 1909, she was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature, the first Swedish person to be so honoured, and the first woman. With the prize money, she bought back Mårbacka which had been sold on the death of her father.

More information about Lagerlöf can be found at Wikipedia, Nobel Prize website or The Diary Junction. Although she was not a diarist as such, one of the last books she wrote (if not the last) was called The Diary of Selma Lagerlöf. Originally published in 1932, it was translated into English in 1936. But it was not, in truth, a diary she wrote as a child, rather a fictionalised recreation of such a diary. Helena Forsås-Scott, writing in Swedish Women’s Writing, 1850-1995 (viewable on Googlebooks) claimed Lagerlöf’s ‘depiction of some months in the life of a 14-year old girl suffering from a hip complaint is so convincing that many readers assumed it to be based on an existing diary’. And other references to the book say she ‘recalled her childhood with subtle artistry’.

However, Lagerlöf also wrote two other books about her childhood, sometimes referred to as the Mårbacka trilogy, Memories of My Childhood and Memories of Mårbacka. A few pages of this latter can viewed on Amazon, where there are also several glowing reviews of the book. It does also include extracts from a real diary Lagerlöf wrote as a child for a few weeks while in Stockholm (and presumably the source material for the third book in the trilogy, The Diary of Selma Lagerlöf).

By coincidence, another writer, this one American and born 100 years ago today, on 21 November 1908 - Elizabeth George - wrote a fictional childhood diary. She was brought up in Melrose, Massachusetts, but moved to Connecticut after marrying Alden Speare. They had two children, and it was only once they were at school that Elizabeth began writing books seriously. Thereafter, she won numerous awards for her fiction, and has been cited as one of America’s 100 most popular children’s authors, much of her work being mandatory reading in schools. She died in 1994.

Her very first novel, though, published in 1958 was Calico Captive. Wikipedia has a separate entry for this book which says it was inspired by the true story of Susanna Willard Johnson (1730-1810) who, along with her family and younger sister, were kidnapped in an Abenakis Indian raid on Charlestown, New Hampshire in 1754. The main events in the story, which occurred on the brink of the French and Indian War, and which are told through the eyes of Miriam, Johnson’s younger sister, were taken from Johnson’s narrative diary A Narrative of the Captivity of Mrs Johnson, first published in 1796. The original of this book can be viewed at Early Canadiana Online.

A king’s phallic doodles

A popular history magazine in Sweden has just disclosed that one of the country’s kings - Charles XIII - used to draw penises in his diary, possibly to record sexual activity! His queen’s diaries, however, are much better known, for their insight into late 19th century court gossip.

Swedish magazine, Populär Historia, has published a bizarre story about a diary written by King Charles (Karl in Swedish) XIII; and a synopsis has appeared on The Local website (which provides Swedish news in English). The diaries are owned by Anders Nyström, a school headmaster, who has revealed that they contain ‘a number of previously undisclosed details, including small illustrations of the male reproductive organ’.

Charles was born in 1748, and matured into a rather weak man, easily led and often pleasure-seeking. In 1774, he entered into an arranged marriage with his 15-year-old cousin, Hedwig Elizabeth Charlotte, but the relationship was never close, and they lived most of their lives separated and having extramarital affairs. Nor did they have children. 

Charles was appointed regent in 1792 for his nephew Gustav IV, but was so ineffectual that real power passed to court advisers until Gustav was old enough to rule in his own right. Charles, himself, was eventually made king in 1809, but by then he had prematurely aged, and the French-born Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte, elected crown prince during the period of Napoleonic Wars, took over governing on his arrival in Sweden in 1810. Both Charles and his wife died in 1818.

The diaries in question date from 1785, a time when Karl was 37 years old, and contain entries about his travels, military duties and experiments in alchemy (carried out in his own laboratory). They also contain small drawings of penises which, according to the reports, ‘appear to coincide with sexually productive moments in the duke’s life’. On 23 October, for example, he attended an oyster supper with his wife, and the diary entry about this was accompanied by not one but two phallic doodles.

Swedish academic Ingemar Carlsson said that the diary was ‘a completely unique source’ and that he had never heard of any remaining diary notes written in Charles’s hand from such an early period. The leather-bound volume was passed to Nyström by his mother, who received the book as a gift in the 1950s. ‘I more or less grew up with it but never thought too much about it,’ he told The Local.

Much better known, however, are the diaries of Charles’s wife, Hedwig Elizabeth Charlotte. Indeed, she is best known for her diaries, Wikipedia says, which were published in their original language of French in nine parts from 1902. An exhibition on 18th century Stockholm, which included her diaries, at Stockholm City Museum opened in October 2007, but closed recently, at the end of August. The publicity for the exhibition said her diaries had become ‘treasures’ because of their gossip about the royals - even if they were just ‘a way to kill time between balls and card games’.

Beautiful men were dead

The Great Northern War, fought between Sweden and Russia for control of the Baltic Sea, reached a turning point 300 years ago today, when the King of Sweden, Charles XII, stopped marching his troops towards Moscow. A Swedish history blogger - whose name I can only divine as TB - has published an interesting article about the war, one which includes several excruciating extracts from diaries written by those involved.

The Great Northern War was fought largely between Russia and Sweden for supremacy in the Baltic Sea, although various other powers were involved at different times. Denmark-Norway and Saxony-Poland, for example, were both involved with Russia in launching the initial attacks on Sweden in 1700. The conflict ended two decades later, in 1721, with Sweden ceding territories (including Estonia) to Russia.

Wikipedia’s list of events for 11 September includes this: 1708 - ‘Charles XII of Sweden stops his march to conquer Moscow outside Smolensk, marking the turning point in the Great Northern War. The army is defeated nine months later in the Battle of Poltava, and the Swedish empire is no longer a major power.’ Charles XII was a skilled military leader, winning several battles early on in the conflict, but his political abilities were lacking, especially when it came to making peace. Upon the outbreak of the Great Northern War, Voltaire is said to have quoted Charles XII as saying: ‘I have resolved never to start an unjust war but never to end a legitimate one except by defeating my enemies.’

A Swedish blogger - who goes by the initials TB - seems fascinated by the Karolinska Army, so named because it was made up of men, Karoliners, who served under Karl XI and Karl XII (Charles XI and Charles XII). An excellent article of his on the army’s involvement in the Great Northern War includes many verbatim extracts from letters and diaries. But, he warns, he’s copied the letters and diaries ‘down to the exact word and wording . . . so, if it sounds strange, it’s because they talked and wrote differently than we do now.’

In 1706, according to TB, the Swedish army finally got want they wanted, a decisive battle against Saxony-Poland at Fraustadt. He quotes from the diary of dragoon corporal, Joachim Lyth, to explain what happened after the battle was won: ‘His excellence General Rehnskiöld gave order to form a square with dragoons, cavalry, and infantry, in which all the Russians that had been taken prisoner had to stand in. Roughly 500 souls, who soon with no mercy were shot or stabbed to death, they fell over each other like sheeps in slaughter.’ Having defeated Saxony-Poland, TB says, only Russia was left, and so in the autumn of 1707, the Swedish Karoliner main army, 44,500 strong, started marching toward Moscow to end the war.

However, the army never made it to Moscow, TB explains, because of lack of food. When still 400 km away, it turned round, and started to march south towards Ukraine looking for supplies. That winter was exceptionally cold. On 23 December, the army reached the village of Petrovka, and while some found shelter, others were obliged to sleep outside. TB’s article then gives an extract from Erik Larsson’s diary: ‘It was so cold that the oxen at our supply-wagon fell dead to the ground. The birds who tried to fly fell dead from the skies. Yes many will remember this day if he survives.’

And then there’s this about the next day (24 December) from the diary of Cavalry Major, Nils GyllenStierna: ‘The road was filled in the morning with men who had frozen to death, with them lay horses, oxen, and other animals. Supply and sick-wagons stood still because their drivers had died by the cold they were still sitting like they were waiting for orders. Now many beautiful men were dead.’