Dr. Talmage and I called at the appointed time. It was a beautiful
summer day and we found the celebrated woman lying on a couch in a room
at the top of the house, the windows of which looked out on Hyde Park.
She was dressed all in white. Her face was exquisitely spiritual, calm,
sweet with the youth of a soul that knew no age. She had never known
that she had been called 'The Lady of the Lamp' by the soldiers of the
Crimea till she read of it in the Doctor's sermon. She was curious to be
told all about it. In conversation with the Doctor she made many
inquiries about America and the Spanish war, making notes on a pad of
what he said. The Doctor told her that she looked like a woman who had
never known the ordinary conflicts of life, as though she had always
been supremely happy and calm in her soul. I remember she replied that
she had never known a day's real happiness till she began her work as a
nurse on the battlefield.
"I was not always happy," she said; "I had my idle hours when I was a
girl." I may not remember her exact words, but this is the sense of
them. She was past 82 years of age at the time.
Enjoying the intervals of sight-seeing, such as the Tower, the Museum,
Westminster Abbey, and the usual wonders of historical London, we
remained in town several weeks. I remember a visit which Mr. Choate, the
American Ambassador, made us with a view to extending any courtesy he
could for the Doctor while we were in England. I told him that I was
more anxious to see the British Parliament in session than anything
else.
"I should think, as Dr. Talmage has with him a letter from the President
of the United States, this request could be arranged," I said.
Mr. Choate gracefully replied that Dr. Talmage required no introduction
anywhere, not even from the President, and arranged to have the Charge
d'Affaires, Mr. White, who was later Ambassador to France, take us over
to the Houses of Parliament, where we were permitted a glimpse of the
Members at work from the cage enclosure reserved for lady visitors.
The Doctor's friends in England did their best to make us feel at home
in London. We were dined and lunched, and driven about whenever Dr.
Talmage could spare time from his work. Sir Alfred Newton, the Lord
Mayor, and Lady Newton gave us a luncheon at the Mansion House on June
5, 1900. I remember the date because it was an epoch in the history of
England. During the luncheon the news reached the Lord Mayor of the
capture of Pretoria. He ordered a huge banner to be hung from the
Mansion House on which were the words--
"THE BRITISH FLAG FLIES AT PRETORIA."
This was the first intimation of the event given to Londoners in that
part of the city. Side by side with it another banner proclaimed the
National prayer, "God Save the Queen," in big red letters on the white
background. A scene of wild enthusiasm and excitement followed. Every
Englishman in that part of London, I believe, began to shout and cheer
at the top of his lungs. An immense crowd gathered in the adjoining
streets around the Mansion House. The morning war news had only
indicated a prolonged struggle, so that the capture of Pretoria was a
great and joyous surprise to the British heart. Suddenly all hats were
off, and the crowds in the streets sang the National Anthem. There were
loud calls for the Lord Mayor to make a speech. We watched it all from
the windows in the parlour of the Mansion House, at the corner of Queen
Victoria Street. Dr. Talmage was as wildly enthusiastic as any
Englishman, cheering and waving his arm from the open windows in hearty
accord with the crowd below. There was no sleep for anyone in London
that night. Around our hotel, the blowing of horns and cheering lasted
till the small hours of the morning. It seemed very much like the
excitement in America after the capture of the Spanish Fleet.
We left London finally with many regrets, having enjoyed the hospitality
of what is to me the most attractive country in the world to visit. We
went direct to Paris to attend the opening ceremonies of the Paris
Exposition of 1900. It seems like a very old story to tell anything
to-day of this event, and to Dr. Talmage it was chiefly a repetition of
the many Fairs he had seen in his life, but he found time to write a
description of it at the time, which recalls his impressions. He
regarded it as "An Object Lesson of Peace and a Tableau of the
Millennium."
His defence of General Peck, the American Commissioner-General, who was
criticised by the American exhibitors, was made at length. He considered
these criticisms unjust, and said so. During our stay in Paris Dr.
Talmage preached at the American churches.
Fearing that it would be difficult to secure rooms in Paris during the
Exposition, the Doctor had written from Washington during the winter and
engaged them at the hotel which a few years before had been one of the
best in Paris. Many changes had occurred since he had last been abroad,
however, and we found that the hotel where we had engaged rooms was far
from being suitable for us. The mistake caused some amusement among our
American friends, who were surprised to find Dr. Talmage living in the
midst of a Parisian gaiety entirely too promiscuous for his calling. We
soon moved away from this zone of oriental music and splendour to a
quieter and more remote hotel in the Rue Castiglione.
Dr. Talmage was restless, however, to reach the North Cape in the best
season to see the Midnight Sun in its glory, and we only remained in
Paris a few days, going from there to the Hague, Amsterdam, and thence
to Copenhagen in Denmark. In all the cities abroad we were always the
guests of the American Embassy one evening during our stay, and this
frequently led to private dinner parties with some of the prominent
residents, which the Doctor greatly enjoyed, because it gave him an
opportunity to know the foreign people in their homes. I remember one of
these invitations particularly because as we drove into the grounds of
our host's home he ordered the American flag to be hoisted as we
entered. The garden was beautiful with a profusion of yellow blossoms, a
national flower in Denmark known as "Golden Rain." We admired them so
much that our host wanted to present me with sprigs of the trees to
plant in our home at East Hampton. Dr. Talmage said he was sure that
they would not grow out there so near the sea. Remembering Judge
Collier's grounds in Pittsburg, where every sort of flower grows, I
suggested that they would thrive there. Our host took my father-in-law's
address, and to-day this "Golden Rain" of Denmark is growing beautifully
in his garden in Pittsburg.
We saw and explored Copenhagen thoroughly. The King of Denmark was
absent from the capital, but we stood in front of his palace with the
usual interest of visitors, little expecting to be entertained there, as
afterwards we were. It all came as a surprise.
We were on our way to the station to leave Copenhagen, when Mr.
Swenson, the American Minister, overtook us and informed us that the
Crown Prince and Princess desired to receive Dr. Talmage and his family
at the summer palace. Though it may be at the risk of _lèse majesté_ to
say it, some persuasion was necessary to induce the Doctor to remain
over. Our trunks were already at the station and Dr. Talmage was anxious
to get up to the North Cape. However, the American Minister finally
prevailed upon the Doctor to consider the importance of a request from
royalty, and we went back to the hotel into the same rooms we had just
left.
Our presentation took place the next day at the summer palace, which is
five miles from Copenhagen. It was the most informally delightful
meeting. The formalities of royalty that are sometimes made to appear so
overwhelming to the ordinary individual, were so gracefully interwoven
by the Crown Prince and the Princess with cordiality and courtesy, that
we were as perfectly at ease, as if there had been crowns hovering over
our own heads. The royal children were all present, too, and we talked
and walked and laughed together like a family party. The Crown Princess
said to me, "Come, let me show you my garden," and we strolled in the
beautiful grounds. The Crown Prince said, "Come, let me show you my
den," and there gave us the autographs of himself and the Princess. We
left regretfully. As we drove away the royal party were gathered at the
front windows of the palace waving their handkerchiefs to us in graceful
adieus. I remember my little daughter was very much surprised with the
simplicity of the whole affair, saying to me as we drove away, "Why, it
was just like visiting Grandpa's home."
On our way to Tröndhjem from Copenhagen we stayed over a few days at
Christiania, where we were the guests of Nansen, the Arctic explorer.
His home, which stood out near the water's edge, was like a bungalow
made of pine logs. There were no carpets on the floors, which were
covered with the skins of animals he had himself killed. Trophies of all
sorts were in evidence. It was a very memorable afternoon with the
simple, brave, scientific Nansen.
At Tröndhjem we took the steamer "Köng Harald" for the North Cape. A
party of American friends had just returned from there with the most
lugubrious story about the bad weather and their utter failure to see
the sun. As it was pouring rain when we started, it would not have taken
much persuasion to induce us to give it all up. But we had started with
a purpose, and silently but firmly we went on with it. Dr. Talmage never
turned back at any cross road in his whole life. In a few hours after
leaving Tröndhjem we were in the raw, cold Arctic temperature where a
new order of existence begins.
We lose all sense of ordinary time, for our watches indicate midnight,
and there is no darkness. The over-hanging clouds draw slowly apart, and
the most brilliant, dazzling midnight sun covers the waters and sets the
sky on fire. It neither rises from the horizon or sinks into it. It
stays perfectly, immovably still. After a while it rises very slowly.
The meals on board are as irregular as the time; they are served
according to the adaptability of one's appetite to the strangeness of
the new element of constant daytime. We scarcely want to sleep, or know
when to do so. Fortunately our furs are handy, for there is snow and ice
on the wild, barren rocks on either side of us.
On July 1, at 8 p.m., we sighted this northernmost land, the Cape, and
were immediately induced to indulge in cod fishing from the decks of our
steamer. It is the custom, and the cod seem to accept the situation with
perverse indiscretion, for many of them are caught. Our lines and bait
are provided by sailors. Dinner is again delayed to enable us to indulge
in this sport, but we don't mind because we have lost all the habitual
tendencies of our previous normal state.
At 10 p.m., in a bright daylight, the small boats full of passengers
begin to leave the steamer for the shore. In about fifteen minutes we
are landed at the base of that towering Cape. There are some who doubt
the wisdom of Dr. Talmage's attempting to climb at his age. He has no
doubts, however, and no one expresses them to him. He is among the first
to take the staff, handed to him as to all of us, and starts up at his
usual brisk, striding gait. It is a test of lungs and heart, of skill
and nerve to climb the North Cape, and let no one attempt it who is
unfitted for the task. Steep almost as the side of a house, rocky as an
unused pathway, it is a feat to accomplish. We were the first party of
the season to go up, and the paths had not been entirely cleared of
snow, which was two and three feet deep in places, the path itself
sometimes a narrow ledge over a precipice. A rope guard was the only
barrier between us and a slippery catastrophe. Every ten or fifteen
minutes we sat down to get our breath. It took us two hours to reach the
top. It was a few minutes after midnight when the sun came out
gloriously.
Coming down was much more perilous, but we got back in safety to the
"Köng Harald" at 2 a.m. On our way down to Tröndhjem we celebrated the
Fourth of July on board. The captain decorated the ship for the occasion
and we all tried to sing "The Star Spangled Banner," but we could not
remember the words, much to our mutual surprise and finally we
compromised by singing "America," and, worst of all, "Yankee Doodle."
Dr. Talmage made a very happy address, and we came into port finally,
pledged to learn the words of "The Star Spangled Banner" before the year
was up.
In our haste to reach the North Cape we had passed hurriedly through
Sweden, so, on our return we went from Tröndhjem to Stockholm, where we
arrived on July 7, 1900.
When in London Dr. Talmage had accepted an invitation to preach in the
largest church in Sweden, with some misgiving, because, as he himself
said when asked to do this, "Shall I have an audience?" Of course the
Doctor did not speak the Swedish language. Dr. Talmage had been told in
England that his name was known through all Sweden, which was a fact
fully sustained by a publisher in Stockholm who came to the hotel one
afternoon and brought copies of ten of the Doctor's books translated
into Swedish. This insured a cordial greeting for the Doctor, but how
was he to make himself understood?
The Immanuel Church in Stockholm, one of the largest I ever saw, with
two galleries and three aisles, was filled to its capacity. Dr. Talmage
was to preach through an interpreter, himself a foremost preacher in his
own country. The Doctor had preached through interpreters three times in
his life; once when a theological student addressing a congregation of
American Indians, once in a church in Hawaii, and once in Ceylon through
an interpreter standing on each side of him, one to translate into
Cingalese, and the other to translate into Hindustan. No one who was
present at that morning Sabbath service on July 8, 1900, will forget
the strange impressions that translated sermon preached by Dr. Talmage
made upon everyone. Sentence by sentence the brilliant interpreter
repeated the Doctor's words in the Swedish language, while the
congregation in eager silence studied Dr. Talmage's face while listening
to the translation of his ideas.
"Whether I did them any good or not they did me good," said the Doctor
after the service.
While in Stockholm we dined with Mr. Wyndham, Secretary of the American
Legation, and were shown through the private rooms of the royal palace,
of which my daughter took snapshots with surreptitious skill. The Queen
was a great invalid and scarcely ever saw anyone, but while driving to
her summer palace we caught a glimpse of her being lifted from her
little horse, on which she had been riding, seated in a sort of armchair
saddle. With a groom to lead the horse Her Majesty took the air every
day in this way. She was a very frail little woman.
From Stockholm we started by steamer for St. Petersburg, but the crowd
was so great that we found our staterooms impossible, and we disembarked
at Alba, the first capital in Finland. We were curious to see the new
capital, Helsingfors, and stopped over a day or two there. From
Helsingfors we went by rail to the Russian capital.
Dr. Talmage had been in Russia years before, on the occasion of his
presentation of a shipload of flour from the American people to the
famine sufferers. At that time he had been presented to Emperor
Alexander III., as well as the Dowager Empress. It was his intention to
pay his respects again to the new Emperor, whose father he had known, so
that we looked forward to our stay in St. Petersburg as eventful. The
Crown Prince of Denmark had urged the Doctor to see his brother-in-law,
the Czar, while in St. Petersburg, and we learned later that he had
written a letter to the Court concerning our coming to St. Petersburg.
On July 23, 1900, we received the following note from Dr. Pierce, the
American Charge d'Affaires in St. Petersburg:--
"July 23, 1900.
"Embassy of the United States, St. Petersburg.
"Dear Dr. Talmage--
"I take much pleasure in informing you that you and Mrs. Talmage and
your daughters will be received by Their Majesties the Emperor and
Empress on Wednesday next, at 2½ p.m.
"Yours very sincerely,
"HERBERT H.D. PIERCE.
"P.S.--I will let you know the details later."
Mr. Pierce called in full court dress and informed Dr. Talmage that it
would be necessary for him to appear in like regalia. As the Doctor was
not accustomed to wearing swords, or cocked hats, or brass buttons on
his coat, he received these instructions with some distress of mind.
Later, we received from the Grand Master of Ceremonies of the Russian
Court a formal invitation to be presented at Peterhof, the summer
palace.
On Wednesday, July 25, 1900, I find this irreverent entry in my American
girl's diary:--
"I can't think of any words sufficiently high sounding with which to
begin the report of this day, so shall simply write about breakfast
first, and gradually lead up to the great event. In spite of the coming
honour and the present excitement we all ate a hearty breakfast."
"As our train was to leave for Peterhof about noon we spent the morning
dressing.
"After all," writes my irreverent daughter in her diary, "dressing for
royalty is not more important than dressing for a dance or dinner. It
can't last for much over an hour. When we had everything on we sat
opposite each other as stiff as pokers--waiting."
My daughter took a snapshot picture of us while waiting. Mrs. Pierce had
kindly given us some instructions about curtseying and backing away from
royalty, a ceremony which neither the Czar nor the Czarina imposed upon
us, however. The trip to Peterhof was made on one of the Imperial cars.
The distance by rail from St. Petersburg was only half-an-hour. A
gentleman from the American Embassy rode with us. We were met at the
station by footmen in royal livery and conducted to a carriage with the
Imperial coat-of-arms upon it. Sentinels in grey coats saluted us.
We were driven first to the Palace of Peterhof, where more footmen in
gold lace, and two other officials in gorgeous uniform, conducted us
inside, through a corridor, past a row of bowing servants, into a
dining-room where the table was set for luncheon, with gold and silver
plates, cut glass and rare china. A more exquisite table setting I never
saw. Three dressing-rooms opened off this big room, and these we
promptly appropriated.
The luncheon was perfect, though we would have enjoyed it better after
the strain of our presentation had been over. The four different kinds
of wine were not very liberally patronised by any of our party. After
luncheon we were driven through the royal park which was literally
filled with mounted Cossacks on guard everywhere, to the abode of the
Emperor. Through another double line of liveried servants we were
ushered into a small room where the Master of Ceremonies and a
lady-in-waiting greeted us. We waited about five minutes when an officer
came to the Doctor and took him to see the Emperor. A little later we
were ushered into another room into the presence of the Empress of
Russia. She came forward very graciously with outstretched hands to meet
us. The Czarina is the most beautiful woman I ever saw, aristocratic,
simple, extremely sensitive. She was dressed in a black silk gown with
white polka dots. Slightly taller than the Czar, the Empress was most
affable, girlish in her manner. As she talked the colour came and went
on her pale, fair cheeks, and she gave me the impression of being a very
sensitive, reserved, exquisitely rare nature. Her smile had a charming
yet half melancholy radiance. We all sat down and talked. I remember the
little shiver with which the Empress spoke of a race in the Orient whom
she disliked.
"They would stab you in the back," she said, her voice fading almost to
a whisper. She looked to be about twenty-eight years old. Once when we
thought it was time to go, and had started to make our adieus, the
Czarina kept on talking, urging us to stay. She talked of America
chiefly, and told us how enthusiastic her cousin was who had just
returned from there. When, finally, we did leave we were spared the
dreaded ceremony of backing out of the room, for the Empress walked with
us to the door, and shook hands in true democratic American fashion.
Dr. Talmage's interview with the Czar was quite as cordial. The Emperor
expressed his faith in the results of the Peace movement at the Hague,
for he was himself at peace with all the world. During the interview the
Doctor was asked many questions by the Emperor about the heroes of the
Spanish war, especially concerning Admiral Dewey. His Majesty laughed
heartily at the Doctor's story of a battle in which the only loss of
life was a mule.
"How many important things have happened since we met," the Czar said to
the Doctor; "I was twenty-four when you were here before, now I am
thirty-two. My father is gone. My mother has passed through three great
sorrows since you were here--the loss of my father, of my brother, and
during this last year of her own mother, the Queen of Denmark. She
wishes to see you in her own palace."
The Czar is about five feet ten in height, is very fair, with blue eyes,
and seemed full of kindness and good cheer.
As we were leaving, word came from the Dowager Empress that she would
see us, and we drove a mile or two further through the royal park to her
palace. She greeted Dr. Talmage with both hands outstretched, like an
old friend. Though much smaller in stature than the Empress of Russia,
the Dowager Empress was quite as impressive and stately. She was dressed
in mourning. Her room was like a corner in Paradise set apart from the
grim arrogance of Imperial Russia. It was filled with exquisite
paintings, sweet with a profusion of flowers and plants. She seemed
genuinely happy to see the Doctor, and her eyes filled with tears when
he spoke of the late Emperor, her husband. At her neck she was wearing a
miniature portrait of him set in diamonds. Very simply she took it off
to show to us, saying, "This is the best picture ever taken of my
husband. It is such a pleasure to see you, Dr. Talmage, I heard of your
being in Europe from my brother in Denmark."
The Dowager Empress was full of remembrances of the Doctor's previous
visit to Russia, eight years before.
"How did you like the tea service which my husband sent you?" she asked
Dr. Talmage; "I selected it myself. It is exactly like a set we use
ourselves."
The informal charm of the Empress's manner was most friendly and kind.
"Do you remember the handful of flowers I picked for you, and asked you
to send them to your family?" she said.
"You stood here, my husband there, and I with my smaller children stood
here. How well I remember that day; but, oh, what changes!"
The Dowager Empress invited us to come to her palace next day and meet
the Queen of Greece, her niece by marriage, and her sister-in-law who
was visiting Russia just then, but we were obliged to decline because of
previous plans. Very graciously she wrote her autograph for us and
promised to send me her photograph, which later on I received. We were
driven back to the station in the Imperial carriage, where a
representative of the American Embassy met us and rode back to St.
Petersburg with us.
So ended a day of absorbing interest such as I shall never experience
again. There is a touch of humour always to the most important events in
life. I shall never forget Dr. Talmage's real distress when he found
that the sword which he had borrowed from Mr. Pierce, the Charge
d'Affaires of the American Embassy, had become slightly bent in the
course of its royal adventure. I can see his look of anxiety as he tried
to straighten it out, and was afraid he couldn't. He always abhorred
borrowed things and hardly ever took them. Fortunately, the sword was
not seriously damaged.
Our objective point after leaving Russia was Ober-Ammergau, where Dr.
Talmage wanted to witness the Passion Play. We travelled in that
direction by easy stages, going from St. Petersburg first to Moscow,
where we paid a visit to Tolstoi's house. From Moscow we went to Warsaw,
and thence to Berlin. The Doctor seemed to have abandoned himself
completely to the lure of sightseeing by this time. Churches, picture
galleries, museums were our daily diet. While in Berlin we returned from
a drive one day to the hotel and found ourselves the objects of unusual
solicitude and attention from the hotel proprietor and his servants.
With many obsequious bows we were informed that the Russian Ambassador
had called upon us in our absence, and had informed the hotel people
that he had a special package from the Czar to deliver to me. He left
word that he would be at the hotel at 2 p.m. the following day to carry
out his Imperial Master's instructions. At the time appointed the next
day the Russian Ambassador called and formally presented to me, in the
name of the Emperor, a package that had been sent by special messenger.
I immediately opened it and found a handsome Russian leather case. I
opened that, and inside found the autographs of the Emperor and Empress
of Russia, written on separate sheets of their royal note paper.
We had a very good time in Berlin. The presence of Sousa and his band
there gave it an American flavour that was very delightful. The Doctor's
interest was really centred in visiting the little town of Württemberg,
famous for its Luther history. Dr. Dickey, Pastor of the American
Church in Berlin, became our guide on the day we visited the haunts of
Luther. One day we went through the Kaiser's Palace at Potsdam, where my
daughter managed to use her kodak with good effect.
From Berlin we went to Vienna, and thence to Munich, arriving at the
little village of Ober-Ammergau on August 25, 1900.
Dr. Talmage's impressions of the Passion Play, which he wrote at
Ober-Ammergau on this occasion, were never published in this country,
and I herewith include them in these last milestones of his life.