party in the lingerie, "Madame, voulez-vous me coudre un bouton," "les
plumes de mon chapeau ne tiennent pas," etc., even Thornton came in to
have his lace cravate tied. We were a long time getting to Prince
Dolgourouky's palace; not that it is far away, but the streets are
barricaded in every direction, however I didn't mind--the crowd was so
interesting, packed tight; they had been standing for hours, they told
us, such pale, patient faces, but so _un_joyous; no jokes, nor bits of
songs, nor good-natured scuffling; so unlike our Paris crowd on a great
fete day, laughing and chaffing, and commenting freely on everything;
and certainly very much unlike the American-Irish crowd at home in New
York, on the 4th of July or St. Patrick's day. I remember quite well
putting boxes of fire-crackers in a tin pail to frighten the horses, and
throwing numerous little petards under people's feet, but no one seemed
to mind. Fancy the effect of a pailful of fire-crackers exploding in any
part of Moscow to-day. The tribunes covered with red cloth, or red and
gold, crammed; and armies of soldiers, mounted and on foot, in every
direction; and yet we were only in the side streets. The real crowd was
in the Tverskaya where the cortege was to pass.
When we finally arrived we were received by the Governor's two nieces,
Madame Mansouroff and Princess Obolenski. The Prince, like all the other
Russian noblemen, took part in the cortege. All our colleagues were
there, but the Duc de Montpensier was the only special envoy. All the
other foreign Princes were riding with the Emperor's suite. It was
almost a female gathering, though of course all the men of the Corps
Diplomatique were there. We waited some little time in the large
drawing-room, where many presentations were made; and then had a very
handsome breakfast, people talking easily, but the Russians visibly
nervous and preoccupied. As soon as it was over we went out on the
balconies, where we remained until the cortege had passed. They brought
us tea at intervals, but I never stirred from my chair until the end.
It was a beautiful sight as we looked down--as far as one could see,
right and left, flags, draperies, principally red and gold, green
wreaths, flowers and uniforms--the crowd of people well kept back behind
a triple row of soldiers, the middle of the street perfectly clear,
always a distant sound of bells, trumpets, and music. A salute of cannon
was to let us know when the Emperor left Petrofski, the small palace
just outside the walls where he has been all these days. As the time
drew near one felt the anxiety of the Russians, and when the first coup
sounded, all of them in the Palace and in the street crossed themselves.
As the procession drew near the tension was intense. The Governor's
Palace is about half way between the gate by which the Emperor entered
and the Kremlin. He had all that long street to follow at a foot's pace.
As soon as he entered the Kremlin another cannon would tell his people
he was safe inside.
At last the head of the gorgeous procession appeared. It was
magnificent, but I can't begin to tell you the details. I don't even
remember all I saw, but you will read it all in the papers, as of course
all their correspondents are here. There were quantities of troops of
all descriptions, the splendid chevaliers-gardes looked very imposing
with their white tunics and silver cuirasses; both horses and men
enormous. What I liked best were the red Cossacks (even their long
lances red). They look perfectly wild and uncivilized and their little
horses equally so, prancing and plunging all the time.
The most interesting thing to me was the deputations from all the
provinces of this vast Empire--Kirghis, Moguls, Tartars, Kalmucks, etc.
There was a magnificent chief from the Caucase, all in white, with
jewelled sword and high cap (even from where we were, so high above the
crowd, we saw the flash of the diamonds); the Khan of Khiva, and the
Emir of Bokhara, both with high fur caps, also with jewels on cap and
belt. A young fellow, cousin I think of Prince Dolgourouky, came and
stood near me, and told me as well as he could who the most important
people were. Bells going all the time (and the Moscow bells have a deep,
beautiful sound), music, the steady tramp of soldiers, and the curious,
dull noise of a great crowd of people.
Then a break in the troops, and a long procession of gala court
carriages passed, with six horses and six runners, a man to each horse,
with all the grands-maitres and high officials of the Court, each man
covered with gold lace and embroidery, and holding his staff of office,
white with a jewel at the top. After that more troops, the Emperor's
body-guard, and then the Emperor himself. He was in full uniform, riding
quite alone in front on his little white horse which he had ridden in
the Turkish campaign. He looked quite composed and smiling, not a trace
of nervousness (perhaps a little pale), returned all the salutations
most graciously, and looked up, bowed and smiled to our balcony. A
little distance behind him rode his two sons, and close up to him on
the left rode the Duke of Edinburgh in red; any bomb thrown at the
Emperor must have killed the English Prince.
Then followed a long suite of Princes--some of their uniforms, Austrian,
Greek, and Montenegrian standing out well. From that moment there was
almost silence on the balcony; as the Emperor disappeared again all
crossed themselves, and everyone waited for the welcome sound from the
Kremlin.
After a long interval, always troops passing, came the Empress. She was
with her daughter, the little Grand Duchess Xenia, both in Russian
dress. The carriage was shut, a coupe, but half glass, so we saw them
perfectly, and the high head-dress (Kakoshnik) and white veil, spangled
with silver was very becoming. The carriage was very handsome, all gold
and paintings; six white horses led, and running footmen. The Empress
and her daughter were seated side by side, and on a curious sort of
_outside_ seat, on one side of the coupe, was a page, dressed in red and
yellow, a sort of cloth of gold, with high feathers in his cap. The
Empress looked grave and very pale, but she smiled and bowed all the
time. It must have been an awful day for her, for she was so far behind
the Emperor, and such masses of troops in between, that he might have
been assassinated easily, she knowing nothing of it.
There was again a great sound of bells and music when the Empress
passed, all the people crossing themselves, but the great interest of
course was far ahead with the Emperor. A great procession of Court
carriages followed with all the Princesses, Grandes-Maitresses, etc.,
and endless troops still, but no one paid much attention; every ear was
strained to hear the first sound from the Kremlin. When the cannon
boomed out the effect was indescribable. All the Russians embraced each
other, some with tears running down their cheeks, everybody shook hands
with everybody, and for a moment the emotion was contagious--I felt
rather a choke in my throat. The extraordinary reaction showed what the
tension had been.
After rather a whirl of felicitations we went into the drawing-room for
a few minutes, had tea (of course), and I talked to some of the people
whom I had not seen before. Montpensier came up, and was very civil and
nice. He is here as a Spanish Prince. He told me he had been
frightfully nervous for the Emperor. They all knew that so many
Nihilists were about--he added, "Il etait superbe, leur Empereur, si
crane!"
We had to wait a few moments for the carriage and got home about 5,
having been standing a long time. We were almost as long getting back to
the Embassy as we were coming. There was a dense crowd everywhere, and
the same little detachments of Cossacks galloping hard into the midst of
the people, and apparently doing no harm to anyone.
I will finish now before going to bed--happily all our dissipations
finish early. We dined quietly with only our own Embassy and
Benckendorff, and then drove about for an hour or so looking at the
illuminations, which were not very wonderful. We met all our colleagues
doing the same thing. W. has just had his report from the detective. He
said all the Nihilists were scattered along the route to-day, but
evidently had no intention of doing anything. It seems curious they
should be allowed to remain, as of course the Russian police know them
quite as well as our man does.
I have just had a notice that the Empress will receive me to-morrow. I
will try and write a few lines always late before going to bed, and
while the whole thing is still fresh in my memory. If this letter is
slightly incoherent it is because I have had so many interruptions.
The maids can hardly undress me, they are so anxious to tell me all they
have seen. It certainly was a magnificent sight to-day, and the fears
for the Emperor gave such a dramatic note to the whole thing. My eyes
are rather tired, looking so hard, I suppose.
Wednesday, May 23d.
Well, Dear, I have had my audience. It was most interesting. I started
at 11 o'clock in the gala carriage, Hubert driving me, as he wanted to
go once to the Kremlin with the carriage before the day of the
Coronation. It seems there is a slight rise in the road just as one gets
to the gate, which is also narrow. I wore the blue brocade with bunches
of cherries, the front of mousse velvet, and a light blue crepe bonnet,
neither gloves nor veil. Benckendorff and Richard, as "officer de
service," went ahead in a small carriage. Benckendorff said I must have
one of my own Embassy, and Richard thought it would amuse him to come.
W. rather demurred--was afraid we wouldn't be serious enough, but we
promised him to be absolutely dignes. Do you remember at the first
official reception at the instruction Publique he never would let you
and Pauline stand behind me--he was afraid we would make unseemly jokes,
or laugh at some of the dresses.
Our progress to the Kremlin was slow. The carriage is heavy, goes always
at a foot's pace, and has a swinging motion which is very disagreeable.
I felt rather shy, sitting up there alone, as of course there is a great
deal of glass, so that I was much "en evidence." Everybody looked, and
the people in the street crowded close up to the carriage. We found
grand preparations when we got to the Palace--the great staircase
covered with a red cloth, and every variety of chamberlain, page, usher,
and officer on the stairs and at the door. Benckendorff and Richard
helped me out of my carriage, and Richard's impulse was to give me his
arm to go upstairs, but he was waved back imperatively, and a
magnificent gentleman in a velvet coat, all lace and embroidery,
advanced, and conducted me up the grand staircase, always a little
behind me. I passed through a hedge of uniforms and costumes. When we
came to the landing where there was a piquet of soldiers my attendant
said--"La France," and they presented arms.
At the top of the staircase, at the door of the first of a long enfilade
of salons, I was handed over, with a very low bow, from my first
gentleman to another of the same description, equally all gold lace, and
embroidery; and so I passed through all the rooms, always meeting a new
chamberlain in each one. The rooms are large and high, with vaulted
roofs like a cathedral, little or no furniture (I believe the Russian
Court never sits down except at meals). We made a halt in one of the
salons, where we found several maids of honour of the Empress, who were
presented to me. They were all dressed much alike in long, light
dresses, and wore their badge--the Empress's chiffre in diamonds on a
blue ribbon. While I was talking to them a procession of diplomats and
special envoys passed through the room. They had just been received by
the Empress.
Presently appeared Prince Galitzin--Grand Maitre des Ceremonies, attired
in red velvet and lace, and embroidery, who said, "Sa Majeste sera
bientot prete." I continued my progress with the same ceremonial, passed
through the salle du trone, which is handsome, white and gold; and came
to a standstill in the next salon, evidently the ante-chamber of the
room where I was to be received, as the two colossal negroes who always
accompany the Emperor and Empress were standing at the door. They were
dressed in a sort of Asiatic costume, cashmeres, turbans, scimitars,
etc. I was received by the Princess Kotchoubey and Count Pahlen, Arch
Grand Maitre des Ceremonies. The Princess K. is the mother of Princess
Lise Troubetzkoi (whom you will remember in Paris as having a salon the
first days of the Republic where political men of all opinions
assembled--Thiers was her great friend). She was a little old lady,
dressed entirely in white, with a jewel low on her forehead. Count
Pahlen was dressed in blue velvet and embroidery, and carried his staff
of office, white, with a large sapphire on the top.
We talked a few minutes, when apparently there came a signal from the
Empress. The doors flew open, and the Princess advanced to the
threshold, making a beautiful curtsey (I am sure mine was not half so
good), she seemed to go straight down to the ground, said--"J'ai
l'honneur d'annoncer l'Ambassadrice de France." She then withdrew to one
side--I made a curtsey at the door, which was instantly shut, another, a
little farther on (the regulation is 3), but hadn't time for my third,
as the Empress, who was standing in the middle of the room, advanced a
few steps, shook hands and begged me to sit down. I hadn't seen her for
some years, since she came to Paris with her husband, then Grand Duke
Heritier (his father was still alive), and I didn't find her changed.
She recalls the Princess of Wales, but is not so tall; has beautiful
dark eyes, and a very gracious manner. She was dressed almost as I was,
but in a different color, yellow brocade with bunches of plums, splendid
lace in front, and a beautiful pearl necklace, three rows of large
stones (my one row of fairly large ones was nowhere). I think I stayed
about 20 minutes.
We talked easily enough. She said the long day yesterday had been very
fatiguing, the going at a foot's pace all that long distance with the
peculiar swinging motion of the heavy gala carriage had tired her very
much; also the constant bowing right and left, and the quantities of
flags and draperies waving under her eyes. She didn't say anything about
being nervous, so of course I didn't. She gave me the impression of
having extraordinary self-control. I asked her what the little Grand
Duchess thought of it all. She said that she really didn't know--that
she didn't speak, but looked at everything and bowed to all the people
exactly as she did.
She said the day of the sacre would be very long and tiring,
particularly beginning so early in the morning; that she was very
matinale, quite accustomed to getting up early--was I? "Fairly--but I
hadn't often been up and dressed in full dress and diamonds at seven in
the morning." "You would prefer a ceremony by candle-light." "I think we
should all look better at 9 o'clock in the evening." She laughed, and
then we talked a little; Paris, chiffons, etc. She said some of her
dresses had come from Philippe. We talked a little about Moscow and the
Kremlin. She asked me what I had seen. When I spoke of the church and
the tribunes for the Corps Diplomatique with _no_ seats, and a very long
ceremony, she was quite indifferent; evidently didn't think it was of
the slightest consequence whether we were tired or not; and I don't
suppose it is.
When she congedied me the door flew open (she evidently had a bell under
her chair which she touched with her feet); she shook hands, and walked
immediately to a door at the other end of the room; so I didn't have to
back out all the way. Princess Kotchoubey and Count Pahlen were waiting
for me. The Princess said, "Sa Majeste vous a garde bien longtemps,
Madame l'Ambassadrice. J'espere que vous avez ete contente." Pahlen also
made me a polite phrase. They both accompanied me across the room, and
then the door opened, and another chamberlain took possession of me.
Just as we got to the door the Princess was saying something about her
daughter "devenue absolument une Parisienne," when it opened; she
stopped short in the middle of her phrase, and made me a little
curtsey--her function was over once I passed into the other room. It was
too funny.
I was conducted through all the rooms and down the great staircase with
the same ceremony. I found Richard waiting in one of the big rooms, with
the "Dames du portrait," but this time he didn't venture to offer his
arm to the Ambassadress, and followed with Benckendorff at a respectful
distance.
I found my carriage surrounded by an admiring crowd. The horses are
handsome and enormous, particularly here where the race is small, also
the French gala liveries are unlike anything else. Hubert, my own
coachman, sits up so straight and pompous on his box, and looks so
correct I hardly know him. The movement of the gala carriage is
something awful, makes me really ill.
May 23d, 10 o'clock.
We have had a quiet evening--some of the gentlemen have gone off to hear
the famous Bohemiennes in one of the public gardens. They have been
leaving cards all day on the special envoys, Princes, etc. W. and
Pontecoulant are having a conference, and I have got into my tea-gown,
and am reading a little, writing a little, and being generally lazy. W.
and I also did a round of visits this afternoon.
As naturally none of our servants know either a word of Russian, or the
streets of Moscow, we took with us the little polygot youth from the
Consulate, who knows equally well French, Russian, and German. We gave
him our list, and he went ahead in a drosky.
We found no one but the Princess Obolenski, who spoke at once about the
Emperor's entree; said no one could imagine the relief it was to all of
them to know that he was actually safe in the Kremlin. They had
evidently all dreaded that day, and of course notwithstanding all the
precautions a bomb _could_ have been thrown. The thrower, par exemple,
would have been torn to pieces by the crowd; but what makes the strength
of the Nihilists is that they all count their lives as nothing in what
they consider the great cause.
How hideous the life of the Emperor and the Empress must be. They say
they find letters on their tables, in their carriages, coming from no
one knows where, telling them of all the horrors in store for them and
their children.
_To H. L. K._
#Ambassade de France, a Moscou#,
#Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska#,
Thursday, 24 Mai, 1883.
I am having a quiet morning. We have no particular function to-day.
Madame Jaures is coming to get me after breakfast, and we are going to
do a little sightseeing. The first thing I hear in the morning always is
Pontecoulant's voice in the court talking to Leroy and Hubert, and
examining the horses. The pair we had in the gala carriage yesterday
went beautifully. Hubert was rather nervous, as there is a steep little
bit just as one passes through the gates of the Kremlin--it is also
narrow, and those big, unwieldy carriages are not easily handled. The
pavement is so rough that I was actually a little sick yesterday after I
came in.
I was called off by a visit from Prince Orloff (Russian Ambassador in
France). He comes almost every day, and is much interested in all our
doings--said the carriage and general style of everything was much
admired yesterday. About two Madame Jaures came, and we started off
sight-seeing. The admiral, Jaures, and one or two of the young men met
us at the Kremlin, and we went over the two palaces--new and old. The
old one is most curious; small, dark, low rooms, vaulted ceilings, all
most elaborately ornamented in Byzantine style; a small steep, twisting
staircase; large porcelain stoves, and absolutely uncomfortable. We saw
the dining-room where the Emperor and Empress will dine in state the day
of the Coronation. The new palace is quite different--high, light, large
rooms, white, which must look beautiful at night lighted by thousands of
wax candles. In the great ballroom the two Throne chairs are on a gold
dais with great curtains of purple velvet and ermine--very royal
looking.
(I wonder if the sight of all this splendour will destroy my mental
equilibrium--I assure you I felt rather like a queen myself yesterday,
seated up alone in the great gala carriage, with everybody bowing and
gaping.) There is a splendid view over the Kremlin, the river and the
town from all the palace windows. We went again to the church of the
Assomption, where we found Count Pahlen superintending. He showed us
some of the famous paintings--among others a Madonna with a _black_
face, a splendid diamond necklace, and large sapphires and emeralds
disposed about her person. There are jewels about everywhere; on
pictures, brackets, etc. Pahlen told me, when I was noticing them, that
the Russian Court was famous for coloured stones, particularly emeralds
and sapphires--told me to notice the Grand Duchess Constantine's
emeralds, and the Empress's sapphires. I will, if ever I get time to go
into details, but everything is on such an enormous scale here.
He also asked me if I was accustomed to _standing_ three or four hours,
and if not he would suggest a _pliant_"dissimule sous les plis de la
traine," and showed me with pride the rails, covered with red velvet, in
our tribune, which he had had put there so we should be comfortable! It
will really be an awful day, particularly as we have to begin it so
early, but I suppose we shan't die of it.
I came back about 4, changed my dress for something more elegant (the
blue silk with long blue redingote and white lace), and started off
again in the d'Orsay for some visits (the little boy in the drosky going
in front). I found the Princess Radziwill in two small rooms (she
received me in her bedroom), all she could find for herself and her
husband in Moscow--and that at an awful price (and she is Russian born).
I also found Countess Pahlen, wife of the Grand Master, who was very
smiling, and suggested that we should have an evening reception, which
would be much appreciated. Of course we shall be delighted, and had even
thought of a ball, but all those things had been settled in Russia
before we left Paris. The Russian Court wished to have _one_ ball only,
as the Coronation functions were numerous and fatiguing, and that is to
be at General Schweinitz's (Doyen of the Corps Diplomatique).
After leaving Countess Pahlen I went again to the Kremlin, the
d'Orsay always exciting much attention. I had the greatest difficulty in
finding out the Duchesse d'Edimbourg, for whom I had to write myself
down, and could find no servant who spoke either German, French, or
English. The crowd and confusion was something awful; apparently the
whole of Moscow was going wherever I was--Ambassadors, Generals,
Chamberlains, maids-of-honour, servants with tea, crowding in all the
corridors. You never saw such a sight, and just as many more in the
court-yards--carriages, soldiers, work-people, carpenters, bales of
stuffs, and planks for stands, and all in that beautiful cadre--the old
gray walls looked so soft, and the marvellous effects of colour
everywhere. I was well shaken up, such a pavement. I met the Duc
de Montpensier at every turn, sight-seeing too. We had a quiet dinner,
the personnel only with Benckendorff. The gentlemen had been going all
around too all the afternoon leaving cards. They all say the pavement
is most trying.
W. and Pontecoulant have come in late as usual for a last little talk. I
told them what Countess Pahlen had said about an evening reception. W.
had had the same idea. I think the house is large enough--the ballroom
ought to light well, all white with yellow satin furniture. We must have
a talk with Lhermite about flowers; he says there are none here, his
come from Paris.
Friday, 25th.
The men of the Embassy went off early, as they had no end of audiences
with all the Grand Dukes; uncles and brothers of the Emperor. I walked
about a little with Adelaide, but I didn't find that very pleasant. It
is curious I never see a lady of any kind walking, and we always attract
attention. It is very warm, the sun really powerful. I breakfasted alone
in the big dining-room, an elaborate meal, one maitre d'hotel and two
tall footmen waiting upon me--I was rather sorry I hadn't asked for tea
and cold chicken in my dressing-room.