Letters of a Diplomat's Wife, 1883-1900 Part 20

#London#, June 5, 1888.

Yesterday was a beautiful summer day, the ideal Sunday of Bishop Keble--"The bridal of the earth and sky." We walked through the "Church Parade" coming back from Westminster. There were quant.i.ties of pretty girls dotted about the Park, looking so fresh and cool in their white dresses. I had various visits. Sunday is the _man's_ day in London, and the afternoon is generally interesting. The Spanish Amba.s.sador came in.

He had been lunching at Sheen with the Comte de Paris, and told me that the Prince asked him if he had seen his Collegue de France lately, and what _he_ thought of the state of things in France, and particularly what he thought of Boulanger. I told him I didn't think the French Amba.s.sador shared the Comte de Paris' enthusiasm for that hero, but that _he_ had better ask him.

About 5.30 W. and I started for White Lodge, Richmond Park, to dine with Princess Mary and the Duke of Teck. We found quite a party a.s.sembled in the garden around a tea-table, the Princess making the tea herself, Princess May and some of the young ones helping. The talk was pleasant and easy, Princess Mary is a charming hostess and _likes_ to talk (which is certainly not the case with all English women). She is very stout, but has a beautiful head and fine presence. Tosti and Picolellis dined, and played divinely after dinner. The evening was enchanting. We all sat in the big drawing-room opening on the garden. There was not much light, the moon s.h.i.+ning through the trees, and the two artists playing as if inspired anything anyone asked for, from a Spohr sonata to an Italian canzonetta. I thought we should stay there all night--no one wanted to go home. The drive home was lovely, the London streets are so quiet Sunday night.

June 6th.

This morning was the great meet of the coaches, and our terrace of course is in great request as it gives directly on the Park. It is always a pretty sight as everyone turns out. Lord Fife had the Prince of Wales with him, and the Princess was driving about with her three daughters in a victoria. The news of the German Emperor is very bad.

June 10th.

This afternoon we had lovely music at Frank Schuster's. Both Wolff and Hollman played divinely. They are great rivals, both Dutchmen, and both great favourites (Hollman is 'cello). A trio with them and Mdme.

Kleeberg at the piano is absolutely perfect.

Our dinner at the Monks' was pleasant. I had Sir Rivers Wilson next to me, and he is a charming neighbour, has been everywhere, knows everybody, and talks easily without any pose. There was a concert in the evening--very good--Trebelli, Lloyd, Nordica, etc. I made acquaintance with Nordica, who is an American, Miss Norton, from Boston I think. She sings beautifully. I said to her (they were all talking hard between the songs), "What a noise! Can you ever begin?" "Oh, certainly," she said, "I shall make much more noise than they do," and she was quite right.

Her voice rang through the room. One of her songs was Delibes' "Filles de Cadiz," which she sang splendidly.

June 12th.

This afternoon we have been sight-seeing. Jean came to breakfast, and we started off with Jusserand and St. Genys to see the Panorama of Niagara, which they say is extremely well done. I wanted the foreigners to have an idea of our great Falls, for I think in their hearts they were rather disposed to agree with a statement in one of the Swiss guide-books in speaking of the falls of the Rhine at Schaffhausen, "generally supposed to surpa.s.s the celebrated Falls of Niagara in America." However they were agreeably disappointed and were much pleased and interested. The Panorama is really very good. It is so many years since I have seen Niagara that I had forgotten how magnificent the Horse Shoe Fall is, and I almost expected to hear the roar of the cataract, and to see the little Indian boy selling moccasins and maple sugar. I wonder if I would like maple sugar now. One of my French friends, Mdme. Casimir Perier, to whom I offered as a great treat some American home-made gingerbread, could hardly swallow it, and a.s.sured me that I couldn't eat it either if it had not been a "souvenir d'enfance." On leaving Niagara we went to the Aquarium to see a dog show. There were some fine specimens, but I didn't think any of the fox terriers as good as my Boniface. We also saw a swimming match, young ladies disporting themselves in the water in most wonderful costumes. Then to change our ideas we went into Westminster Abbey, just getting there for the end of the afternoon service. We heard the anthem, which was beautiful. It is such a good choir--some of the boys' voices divine, and they look like such little angels in their white surplices. A good many people were waiting to go round the Abbey at the end of the service, and we had some difficulty in getting away from the various guides who haunt the church and fall upon strangers. We wandered about with Jusserand for our cicerone. He knows everything about everything, and we had an interesting hour. Some of the old tombs are so curious. We got back to the Emba.s.sy for tea, having enjoyed ourselves immensely. I think in her heart Jean was rather shocked at the Aquarium performance--didn't think it was exactly the place for me--that was the reason I liked it, I suppose, I am so often now in the place where I ought to be.

_To H. L. K._

#London#, June 12, 1888.

It is beautiful again to-day. We had a nice canter in the Row. Everyone was talking about the German Emperor, and speculating over the future.

There is a curious mistrust of the young Prince. No one seems to know exactly what he will do, and what will be his att.i.tude toward England.

This afternoon we have been out to Chiswick with the Florians, and Francis, to launch a torpilleur built for the French Navy by Th.o.r.n.ycroft. We found Th.o.r.n.ycroft and some of his friends waiting for us at the entrance of the dockyard. They took us to a platform covered with red cloth erected quite close to the boat--which was prettily dressed with flags--the men said her shape was wonderful (for a torpilleur, which never can be graceful). They gave me a bottle of champagne, and told me what to do. I flung the bottle as hard as I could against the stern of the boat, saying "Success to the 'Coureur.'" It broke into a thousand pieces, the champagne spattering all over my dress. We then adjourned to a summer-house overlooking the river for tea, and afterward went over the boat. There are accommodations (such as they are) for two officers and nine men, but it must be most uncomfortable, particularly in rough weather. However, she was built for speed, Th.o.r.n.ycroft told us, and everything was suppressed that was not absolutely necessary. I hope she will make a good record.

June 13th.

Yesterday I decided quite suddenly to go to Ascot. It was a beautiful day, not too hot, and the Florians were quite ready to go with me. W.

hates races and a long day in the country. We got down all right, hearing vague rumours on the way about the Emperor's death, but the Royal box was open, prepared evidently for the Princes, and there were quant.i.ties of people on the lawn. We were standing near the gate waiting to see the procession appear, when suddenly Lord Coventry, Master of the Buckhounds, rode in alone. Instantly everyone said there must be bad news from the German Emperor (which was true). The Prince of Wales had a telegram, just as he was getting into his carriage, from the Queen, to say the news was very bad, and none of them must go to the races. Very soon some of the gentlemen of the Prince's party arrived, among others Karolyi, who said the Emperor was dying--dead probably at that moment.

The Prince's servants and lunch were sent back as soon as possible (of course all their provisions and servants had been sent to Ascot, as they have a big lunch party there every day), so we all lunched with Lord Coventry. I went up after lunch to the top of the stand to see the race, and had the satisfaction of seeing the French horse come in an _easy_ last.

We went to tea with Lady Diana Huddleston, who has a pretty cottage close to the course, and sat under the trees some time. I had refused a dinner in London, and was in no hurry to get back. We quite expected to see the Emperor's death in the evening papers, but he seems to have rallied again a little. Poor man, how terrible it is the way he fights for his life--and he has known from the first, they say, that there was no hope. I am so sorry for her--she is so clever, so ambitious, and would have done so much for Germany.

#Woburn Abbey#, June 15, 1888.

We arrived here yesterday for tea. It had rained hard in the morning. W.

and I were riding and were taking our usual quick canter at the far end of the Park (Marble Arch) when the storm began. We got home as fast as we could, but were dripping, both of us. The water poured off my hat like a shower-bath when I took it off. We had just time to get dry and dress before starting for the station where we found the Duke's[10]

regisseur waiting for us with a "wagon-salon." We had a short railway journey through pretty English village country; then a drive of half an hour brought us here. The Park is enormous, fine trees and beautifully green--such a rest after London smoke. The house is very large, with a great square court and corridors running all around it filled with family and historical pictures. The d.u.c.h.ess and her daughters were waiting for us in the morning room. We had tea and almost immediately went upstairs, as it was late. I have a charming big room with such views over the Park. There are always in these large houses lovely bits of old furniture, pictures, old china, etc. The dinner was handsome--quant.i.ties of gold and silver plate, and the table covered with azaleas. The Duke talked a great deal. He speaks French and German like a native (was brought up in Germany) and has the courteous, dignified manner of the old-fas.h.i.+oned English gentleman--a little stiff perhaps (they say people, even his children, are afraid of him), but I find him most attractive, particularly in these days when people haven't time apparently to be polite. The house party is small--Lord Tavistock, son of the house, with his handsome wife, Lady Ampthill, widow of Lord Ampthill (whom you will remember well as Odo Russell in Rome, and who was for years British Amba.s.sador in Berlin). We saw him there when we stopped three or four days on our way to Moscow for the Coronation. They loved him in Berlin, just as they did in Rome. Do you remember how much put out all the women were there when his engagement was announced? Lady Ampthill looks sad, and is of course most anxious about the Emperor Frederick, and eager for news, she knew him and the Empress so well at Berlin. There is also Bohm, the sculptor, and one or two young men. The evening was short, everyone talking of course about the Emperor. The Duke says his death will be an immense loss to the whole world. The ladies came upstairs about 10.30--the men went to the smoking-room. This morning it is showery--I didn't go down to breakfast, but about 12.30 I found my way to the drawing-room, and the d.u.c.h.ess showed me the house before lunch. It would take weeks to see all that is in it. The gallery that runs round the court is filled with portraits of Russells of every degree, also various Kings and Queens of England. There are splendid pictures all over the house--one drawing-room absolutely panelled with Ca.n.a.lettos. When we had been over the house we went into the garden to dedicate a fountain which Bohm had made, and also to see a full length statue of the d.u.c.h.ess which he had also just completed for the garden. I am very glad to know Bohm. He is intelligent and sympathetic, original too. He and W. had a long talk last night in the "fumoir," and it seems he was much struck with W. and said afterward to the Duke "Der weiss alles."

[10] The Duke of Bedford.

After lunch, just as we were starting to have tea at Ampthill, we received two telegrams--one from the Emba.s.sy, and one from Deichmann--telling of the Emperor's death at 11 this morning--so that long struggle is over. We drove over to Ampthill, and walked about in the garden with umbrellas and waterproofs, but of course the place looked triste and dark as there are great trees close to the house.

There was a very good picture of Lord Ampthill in one of the drawing-rooms, and souvenirs of their diplomatic life in every direction; signed photographs of all sorts of distinguished people--snuff-boxes, medals, etc.

June 16th.

It is still grey and damp, but no rain. The d.u.c.h.ess took us for a beautiful _gra.s.s_ drive through miles of rhododendrons, quite enchanting--I have never seen anything like it;--but again the want of sunlight made a great difference. The contrast between the deep green of the lawn and the extraordinary amount and variety of colour was most striking. We left about 3--immediately after lunch. I had quite a talk with the Duke while we were waiting for the carriage. He told me he had been so pleased to have had W. at his house and to hear him talk. He said--"I am not a Republican, but I must say that so long as the Republic finds men like him to serve her, there can be nothing better for France."

#London#, June 24th.

We all went to the funeral service for the Emperor Frederick this morning, all of us smothered in crepe with long crepe veils. It was precisely the same service over again as we had had for the old Emperor a few months ago. The heat was something awful--so many people--and it was very long. I dined in the evening at Hurlingham with Sir Roderick Cameron, and that was nice; deliciously cool, lights all about the place, and the Hungarian band playing.

_To H. L. K._

#London#, July 12, 1888.

Last night I had a novel and most amusing experience. I went with Count and Countess de Florian (they are always ready to do anything I want) to dine at the Mansion House. W. could not go. As soon as we arrived they roared out my name, or rather my official t.i.tle--"Her Excellency the French Amba.s.sadress," and I walked alone (the Florians a little behind) up the great hall lined with people to where the Lord Mayor was standing, with his robes, chains, etc., a mace-bearer on one side, and a sort of trumpeter on the other. He stood quite still until I got close to him, then shook hands and asked my permission to remove his robes (ermine). We then went in to dinner. The Lord Mayor and his wife sat side by side, and I was on his right. The dinner was fairly good (a regular banquet, 70 or 80 people), with music and speeches. I rather like the ceremony of the "loving cup." The cup was a handsome heavy gold tankard, with handles and a cover, and was brought first to the Lord Mayor. He rose--I did the same, and he asked me to take off the cover, which I did, and held it while he drank. Then he wiped the edge with his napkin, and pa.s.sed it to me. The man next to me got up and held the cover while I drank. (The cup is very heavy and I had to take it with both hands.) The same ceremony was repeated all around the enormous table, and it was a pretty and curious sight to see a couple always standing--the women in full dress and jewels standing out well between the black coats of the men. It seems it is a very old custom, a remnant of rough feudal times, when the man drinking was obliged to have a friend standing next to him, to ward off a possible blow, his hands being occupied. I don't know what we drank--I should think a sort of hot spiced wine. Of course one just touches the edge of the cup. A wonderful man, in old-fas.h.i.+oned garb and a stentorian voice, stood always behind the Lord Mayor's chair, and called out all the names, toasts, etc. We went in afterward to Mrs. Oppenheim, who had a musical party--all the pretty women, and Mme. Nordica singing beautifully, with the orchestra of the Opera.

#London#, July 14, 1888.

I am rather tired to-night, but I think you must hear about the comedie while it is still fresh in my mind. It really went very well. We arranged a sort of rampe with flowers and ribbons (Thenard's suggestion) at the end of the ball-room, and made up the background with screens, curtains, etc. The little troupe had been well drilled by Thenard, who took a great deal of trouble, not only with their diction, but with their movements. At first they were always standing in a heap and tumbling over each other, or insisting upon turning their backs to the audience. "Ce n'est pas bien joli, ce que vous montrez au public, mes enfants," says Thenard. Here is the programme:--

A FRENCH COMEDY

AMBa.s.sADE DE FRANCE a LONDRES

#Samedi#, 14 #Juillet#, 1888

L'EDUCATION a LA MODE

PAR BERQUIN

MADAME VERTEUIL #Mlle. Beatrice de Bunsen# MADAME BEAUMONT #Mlle. de Langhe# LeONORA, sa niece #Lady Mary Pepys# DIDIER, son neveu } M. DUPAS, Maitre de danse} #M. Francis Waddington# TRUETTE, soubrette #Mlle. Cameron#

I was very proud of my little troupe. Beatrice looked very well and stately in powder, black satin, and lace. Mile. de Langhe and Daisy very well got up, and the two children charming. Lady Mary Pepys was too sweet, and they danced their minuet perfectly. There were roars of laughter when Francis appeared as "Maitre de Danse" with a white wig and his violin. The children were not at all shy, enjoyed themselves immensely. B. was a little "emue" at first when she saw how many people there were, but it didn't last and she was excellent, so perfectly correct, and unfrivolous, and boring. Francis said his little poetry, "Le bon Gite" of Deroulede, quite prettily. W. was rather surprised and quite pleased, and Thenard beamed, as she had coached him. She recites some of those "Chants du Soldat" of Deroulede's divinely. It is a perfect treat to hear her recite in her beautiful rich voice "Le Pet.i.t Clairon," also "La Fiancee du Timbalier," with an accompaniment of soft music.

All the children (as we had invited Francis's young friends to see the performance) had tea together afterward, and they wound up with a dance.

The men of the Emba.s.sy were much pleased, particularly Jusserand, who is rather "difficile." They complimented B. very much; said she spoke so distinctly and with very little accent. It was rather trying for her to play before all the Emba.s.sy and an ex-member of the Comedie Francaise.

Francis's blue velvet coat and lace ruffles were very becoming to him.

Wolff told him how to hold his violin, I wish you could have seen it. It was much prettier than the original little play at Bourneville, when we executed as well as we could a menuet.

We had a very select public, among others Wyndham of the Criterion, who is an interesting man and a charming actor. When you come over I will take you to see his David Garrick, which I consider a perfect bit of acting. I wrote and asked him to "a.s.sister aux debuts d'un jeune collaborateur." The funny formal old-fas.h.i.+oned Berquin phrases amused him. He knows French well.

#London#, August.

We have decided to go to Scotland with Sir Roderick Cameron and his family, and are starting in a day or two. London is dull and empty, has suddenly become a deserted city. Even the shops are empty, and the Park a wilderness. All our colleagues have gone. I think W. is the only Amba.s.sador in London, and he wants to get off to France and have a few days on the Aisne before he goes to the Conseil General. We means Francis and me for Scotland.

_To H. L. K._

#Inveraylort#, August 17, 1888.