and we started for the reception of the Arch Duke and Arch Duchess
Albert of Austria. We found quantities of people, as all the Corps
Diplomatique had been convoked. W. and I went as usual in the d'Orsay. I
wore my creme voile with lace and embroidery, straw bonnet with creme
feathers, lined with dark blue velvet. We waited some little time in a
large hall or anteroom where was Count Wolkenstein, Austrian Ambassador,
who presented all the suite of the Arch Duke. Then appeared the Arch
Duke alone--said his wife was coming in a few moments. We had known him
in Paris--he had dined with us at the Quai d'Orsay when W. was Foreign
Minister, our Exhibition year. He is a tall, distinguished looking man.
It was when he was dining at the Elysee one night with Marechal MacMahon
that such a funny contre-temps occurred. Their dinners were always very
good and soignes, but evidently they had not thought about the names of
the dishes, and when we were well on with the dinner we suddenly
realized that something was wrong. My neighbour said to me "Look at your
menu," and what did I see--"Glace a la Magenta"--"Gateau Solferino," and
I forget the third thing--all battles where the Austrians had been
beaten. I spoke to one of the household about it afterwards who said
"J'ai froid dans le dos en pensant a ce que le Marechal me dira." It
seems that when he was angry the Marechal didn't mince matters, and used
most _emphatic_ expressions. You can imagine how carefully we studied
the menu of our dinner which came two days after--"Glace a la Regence,"
"Gateau Moka," etc., nothing compromising.
While the Arch Duke was talking there was suddenly a move, and he went
to meet the Arch Duchess who came in, crossed the room quickly, and
asked us to follow. We did, into a smaller room, W. and I alone. She is
very handsome, younger than he is, tall and slight, dressed in a black
dress with a great deal of lace, a very long train, a handsome pearl
necklace, and a high comb of diamonds. She said she would like to make a
stay in Paris. After they had congedied us W. asked if he might present
the rest of the Mission, so I returned to the large salon and saw
various people to talk to, including Count Apponyi, whom I had known in
Paris, where his father was Ambassador for years.
We dined at home and went in the evening to a reception at M. de
Giers'--Foreign Minister. The rooms were not large, and there were a
great many people, I should think more foreigners and diplomatists than
Russians. Princess Kotchoubey and Countess Pahlen did the honours.
Quantities of people were presented to me--I shall never remember their
names or their faces. I wore fraise-ecrase velvet, the front covered
with white "point a l'aiguille." General Wolseley, who is here with the
Duke of Edinburgh, was presented. He is not at all the real British
type, small and dark, but very bright eyes. I also had quite a talk with
my Dutch friend Schimmelpenninck, who assured me my toilettes were tres
reussies, particularly the white one, this afternoon. I had quite a talk
too with the Hunts, who are very nice. Both are tall and fine-looking,
she always very well dressed. The U.S. Mission is very distinguished--they
have Mr. and Mrs. Mackay with them, both very natural and quiet; she of
course has splendid jewels (they tell me her sapphires are beautiful),
but she wears them quite simply, without any ostentation. There is also
Admiral Baldwin, who has his ship at Cronstadt, and two charming young
aides-de-camp, Rogers and Paul.
_To H. L. K._
Saturday, May 26, 1883.
Well, Dear, I am just alive, but nothing more, having performed 5 Grand
Duchesses. The gentlemen all went off in full uniform at 11 to begin
their audiences. I followed later alone (they always go en bande) with
Richard going in the small carriage in front as officier de service
(which amuses us both perfectly). I wore the white soft silk with
Valenciennes that you liked, and the flower hat. Benckendorff
complimented me on my toilette. It was a long affair getting to our
different Princesses. They are all lodged in the Kremlin, and the
various palaces connect with all sorts of passages and staircases, but
the corridors are narrow and the block something awful. My first
audience was with the Grand Duchess Michel. Her husband is an uncle of
the Emperor, and was for a long time Governor of the Caucasus. When we
finally got to the door of the apartments I was received by 2
Chamberlains (all gold and embroidery), who never left me until they
deposited me in the carriage at 5 o'clock--I had started at 1.30. The
ceremonial was always exactly the same, one or two ladies-in-waiting
were in the room communicating with the one in which the Grand
Duchess was waiting. They announced "L'Ambassadrice de France," I got
through as many of my three regulation curtseys as I could--I never
really had time to make the third, as they all advanced a few steps and
shook hands. The Grand Duchess Michel is a Baden Princess, tall, slight,
very intelligent, simply dressed in black velvet, and of course a pearl
necklace. She spoke to me in English, French, and German, but the
conversation was mostly in French. She seemed well up in French
literature, and asked me what I thought of Zola's "L'Assommoir," was
really surprised when I said I hadn't read it, nor in fact scarcely
anything he wrote. She considered it a marvel, and couldn't understand
any French woman not reading every word that came from "un des plus
puissants cerveaux du siecle." She knew too all the pieces de theatre,
and when I expressed surprise that she had had time to read so much,
said her life in the Caucasus was so lonely--no society of any kind,
and no resources outside of her own palace. I should think she was a
maitresse femme.
After leaving her I was taken in hand again by my two chamberlains, and
walked some distance across one or two courts, always meeting more
chamberlains escorting colleagues, principally men, all in uniform and
orders, doing the same thing, and trying to get on as fast as they
could. My next visit was to the Grand Duchess Constantine. When we got
to the anteroom and small salon we found them full of gentlemen, who
proved to be our Mission, who had arrived a few minutes before. That
made a slight change of programme, as the Grand Duke decided to receive
W. and me together with the Duchess--accordingly we were received first,
alone, in a small room. The Grand Duke was standing close to the door;
the Grand Duchess in the centre of the room. He is a sailor, looks very
intelligent. She has been very handsome, carries herself beautifully,
and has a splendid figure. He was in uniform--she in red velvet (she
_didn't_ have on her emeralds--I suppose we shall see them all
to-morrow). They both talked very easily about all sorts of things;
Greece of course and the Schuylers, of whom she spoke very warmly. Her
daughter is the Queen of Greece--I hope we shall see her, as I have
heard Gert talk so much about her. The Grand Duchess said she was tired
already, and the Ceremonies haven't begun yet. She had received
yesterday 100 ladies of Moscow. They came in groups of 10, and she had
to find something to say to each one.
As soon as the audience was over W. asked permission, as usual, to
present the rest of the Mission. I remained in the outer salon talking
to the ladies-in-waiting. The apartment is high, with a splendid view
over Moscow. They pointed me out several churches and curious
roofs--were much interested in all my visits and my clothes, supposed I
had quantities of trunks.
After that I departed again alone, and saw the Grand Duchess Catherine,
who was very amiable, but kept me a few minutes only, as she had so many
people to receive. Then I took another long walk, and up several flights
of narrow, turning stairs (the chamberlains in front and Richard behind)
to the Duchesse d'Oldenburg. The Belgian Mission was being received, so
I waited in the outer salon, and again W. and the gentlemen arrived, and
he and I were received together. Evidently they like it better when we
can go together, as it saves time for them--and if we are tired, think
what they must be. I went off again alone, and was received by the Grand
Duchess Wladimir, who is charming--a German Princess. She is young, a
pretty figure, very well dressed in white. She looked rather delicate,
having just got over a rather bad attack of measles. She dreads the
fatigue very much to-morrow, and had asked the Empress if she might have
a folding-chair, a pliant of some kind, but her "demande n'a pas ete
accueillie favorablement. L'Imperatrice elle-meme sera debout tout le
temps. Il faudrait absolument que nous fassions comme elle." I didn't
mention my pliant, as I am quite sure no one will notice to-morrow
anything _I_ do.
That finished my audience, and I had been standing or walking since I
left the Embassy, so I was glad to find the carriage, which was by no
means easy. There were quantities at the Kremlin, and as we never by any
chance came out at the same door by which we went in, and the coachman
was told to follow, he naturally had some difficulty in getting it. Also
it is raining hard, which complicates matters. There are carpets down to
the doors, but so many people have passed over them that they are just
as wet and muddy as the streets. We met all the rest of the Mission at
the Embassy door, and then there was a general detente, the men all
calling for their servants to get them out of their uniforms, and to
bring beer and cigars.
W. came in to tea. He looked really done up--he had been at it steadily
since 12. There are so many Princes and Grand Dukes without any wives. I
am writing in bits, but will finish as usual the last thing. We have had
a small dinner--the other French Embassy (permanent), Lagrene, Consul,
and Orloff. Benckendorff of course. They all went away early, as our day
to-morrow is an awful one.
It is pouring still, and we are rather melancholy at the thought of our
gala carriages, and blue and silver liveries in a heavy rain. Just
before dinner I had a visit from Philippe, and he made various essais
with my diadem and feathers. He is to be here at six to-morrow morning
to coiffer me. He also requested that he might see my dress so as to
make his coiffure "harmoniser avec l'ensemble." I wanted to see it too,
so as to be sure that everything was right, and the flowers well sewn
on. It is now reposing on one of the big arm-chairs in the
dressing-room, covered up with a sheet.
My eyes are shutting of themselves, so I will stop. Please send all my
letters on to America, as I never can write _two_ accounts of our life
here.
_To H. L. K._
#Ambassade de France a Moscou#,
#Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska#,
Dimanche, 27 Mai, 1883.
I am perfectly exhausted, Dear, after the most beautiful, bewildering,
exhausting day I have ever gone through. We got home at 4.30. I rested a
little, had tea as usual in my boudoir with W. and Richard, and will
write as much as I can while I am still under the impression of all I
have seen.
I was up at 5.30, as we had to leave here at 7. Philippe was very
punctual--put on diadem and feathers very well. Happily it was all blue,
rather dark (as my dress too was blue), and he remarked pleasantly, to
put me at my ease I think, and make me feel as comfortable as I could at
that hour of the morning, "Le bleu c'est le fard de Madame." He couldn't
understand that I wouldn't let him maquiller my face--said all the
Princesses were painted--but I really couldn't go that.
When I appeared in the drawing-room, the men of the Embassy were very
complimentary about my dress. We went in our three carriages (I had the
white moire cloak, trimmed with dark feathers over me), W. and I and
Pontecoulant in the first gala carriage driven by Leroy (I wish you
could have seen him, as much taken up with _his dress_ as I was with
mine). He stood giving directions to a quantity of understrappers, but
never touching harness, nor even whip, until we appeared, then got on
his box as we got into the carriage, settled himself in a fine pose, and
we started.
The second gala carriage driven by Hubert (who looked very well) came
next, and then the d'Orsay. It really was a very pretty cortege, and we
were much looked at and admired, as we drove very slowly, and jolting
very much, to the German Embassy. All our colleagues came up about the
same time. Some of the gala carriages were good, the Austrian, but ours
out and out the best. No one else had three.
We assembled in one of the large rooms of the palace, and then walked
through numerous rooms, galleries, and finally through an open court,
entirely covered with a red carpet, and lined with soldiers and
officers--every description of uniform. The Chevalier-Gardes,
magnificent in their white tunics, silver cuirasses and helmets.
Happily it was fine--I don't know what we should have done in the rain,
and also so early in the morning the sun was not genant (as it was later
in the day). The long procession, the men in uniform and decorations;
the women in full dress, feathers and diadems, was most effective.
I left my cloak in the carriage, and didn't feel chilly, but some of the
women were uncomfortable, and had little lace and fur tippets. We filed
into the church (which is small), and into the Diplomatic Tribune, and
settled ourselves quite easily--there was plenty of room. The effect
inside was dazzling: tapers, flowers, pictures, jewels, quantities of
women already seated, all in the Kakoshnik, and a general impression of
red and gold in their costumes. All the Empress's ladies wear red velvet
trains, embroidered in gold. People seemed to be coming in all the time.
Deputations from the provinces, officials of Moscow, officers,
chamberlains, a moving mass of colour. The costume of the Popes was
gorgeous--cloth of gold with very high jewelled mitres.
We waited some time before the ceremony began, but there was so much to
see that we didn't mind, and from time to time one of the officials came
and stood with us a little, explaining who all the people were. The
whole church was hung with red, and red carpets everywhere. Just in the
middle there was a high estrade, covered with red velvet, and a great
gold baldaquin with Imperial eagles embroidered on it. It was all
surrounded by a gold balustrade, and on it were the two thrones. A
little lower on the same estrade were the places of the Princes of the
family, and the Foreign Princes.
A little before 9 the Imperial family began to arrive. Almost all the
Grand Duchesses in trains of drap d'argent, bordered with sable, and
magnificent jewels. Then there was a great sound of trumpets, and
cheering outside (those curious, suppressed Russian cheers), and they
told us the Emperor and Empress were coming. They were preceded by an
officer of the Chevalier-Gardes, with sabre-a-nu. The Emperor was in
full uniform, with the blue ribbon of St. Andre. The Empress quite
simple in white and silver, the Imperial eagles embroidered on the
front of her dress; no diadem, no veil, nor jewels; her train carried by
4 pages, her hair quite simply done--she looked so young, quite like a
school-girl. Then followed a glittering suite of Princes, officers,
etc.
The service was very long, the chanting quite fine; the men have
beautiful, deep voices--I cared less for the intoning, they all end on
such a peculiar high note. I didn't like the looks of the Popes
either--the long beards worried me. Of course the real interest was when
the Emperor took the crown from the hands of the Pope (kneeling before
him) and put it on his own head. He looked a magnificent figure,
towering over everybody, as he stood there in his Imperial robes, cloth
of gold lined with ermine, and a splendid jewelled collar. The crown
looked high and heavy--made entirely of jewels.
His two brothers, Grand Dukes Wladimir and Alexis, put on his robes. The
Grand Duke Wladimir always stands close behind his brother. He has a
stern, keen face. He would be the Regent if anything should happen to
the Emperor, and I think his would be an iron rule.
As soon as the Emperor was crowned the Empress left her seat, came to
the middle of the platform, made a deep curtsey to the Emperor, and
knelt. Her court ladies then gathered around her, and put on the
Imperial mantle, also in cloth of gold lined with ermine, and the same
jewelled collar like the Emperor's. When she was dressed, the Emperor,
stooping low over her, put on her crown, a small one made entirely in
diamonds, raised her and kissed her. As she stood a moment she almost
staggered back under the weight of the mantle--the 4 pages could hardly
hold it.
Then the long procession of Princes and Princesses left their seats on
the estrade, and passed before the Sovereigns. First came his two
brothers, Wladimir and Alexis. They kissed the Emperor, then bent low
before the Empress, kissing her hand. She kissed them each on the
forehead. Next came the two young Princes, in uniform like their father,
wearing also the blue ribbon of St. Andre, and the little Grand Duchess
(aged 10) in a short white dress, but the Kakoshnik.
It was a pretty sight to see the children bowing and curtseying low to
their parents. Some of the ladies' curtseys were wonderful--the Arch
Duchess Charles Louis extraordinarily graceful (I wonder how I ever
shall get through mine--I am certainly much less souple than these
ladies). When they had all passed the Emperor went alone into the chapel
to communier, and receive the sacred oil--the Empress remained kneeling
outside.
[Illustration: The Emperor Crowning the Empress Church de l'Assomption]
We had various incidents in our tribune--one or two ladies fainted, but
couldn't get out, they had to be propped up against the rail, and
brought round with fans, salts, etc. We stood for three hours and a
half.
The Emperor and Empress left the church with the same ceremony (we all
following), and then there was a curious function. Under a dais, still
in their court robes, their trains carried by six or eight officers,
they walked around the enceinte, going into three or four churches to
make their devotions, all of us and all the other Princes following, all
their suites, and an accompaniment of bells, cannon, music, and cheers.
(I forgot to say that when the Emperor put his crown on his head in the
church, the cannon announced to his people that their sovereign was
crowned.)
We had a few drops of rain, then the sun came out strong, and I was
rather wretched--however General Pittie came to my rescue, and shaded me
with his hat (all the men were bareheaded). There were tribunes all
along the route for the people who hadn't been able to get into the
church; in one of them all the younger members of the Embassies, as of
course _all_ couldn't be got inside. These two were all gold and red,
filled with women, mostly in white, and men in uniform. You can't
imagine what a gorgeous sight it was, and the crowd below packed tight,
all gaping at the spectacle.
We didn't dirty our dresses (the trains of course we carried in our
arms), I don't know why, as the red carpet was decidedly damp and
muddyish in places. We finally arrived at the Vieux Palais, where we
were to breakfast, and the Emperor and Empress were also to have a
little respite before dining in state with their people.
We had a handsome breakfast, quantities of gold and silver plate, and
many Russian dishes. I didn't much like the looks of the soup, which was
clear, but had various things floating about on it--uncooked fish,
little black balls, which I thought might be caviar, which I don't ever
like; and I was rather wondering what I should eat (I was very hungry),
when my neighbor, Nigra, the Italian Ambassador, suggested I should
share his meal. He didn't like Russian cookery either, so he had
intrigued with a friendly official, who was going to bring him a cold
chicken and a bottle of good red wine. I accepted joyfully, and we had a
very good breakfast.
I think we were about three-quarters of an hour at table, and it was
very pleasant to sit down after those hours of standing. When the
breakfast was over, a little after two, we were conducted to the
Imperial dining-room, a square, low room in the old Kremlin with a
vaulted ceiling, and heavy Byzantine decorations; quantities of
paintings on a gold ground, bright coloured frescoes, most elaborate.
There were great buffets and tables covered with splendid gold and
silver plates, flagons, vases, etc. At the end of the room was a square,
raised platform covered with red, and a splendid dais, all purple
velvet, ermine, and gold embroidery where the Imperial couple were to
dine with their faithful subjects.
We strangers were merely admitted for a few minutes to see the beginning
of the meal, and then we retired, and the Emperor remained alone with
his people. Of course officers and officials of all descriptions were
standing close round the platform. There was a large table to the
left as we came in, where almost all the Russians were already
assembled--all the women in the national dress, high Kakoshnik, long
white lace spangled veil, and a sort of loose hanging sleeve which was
very effective. The ensemble was striking.
[Illustration: Empress Marie in her Coronation Robes]
Presently we heard a sound of music and trumpets, which told us the
Royalties were approaching, and as they came near we heard the familiar
strains of the Polonaise from Glinka's opera "La Vie pour le Czar,"
which is always played when the Emperor and Empress appear. They came
with the usual escort of officers and chamberlains, smiling and bowing
graciously to all of us. They seated themselves (always in their cloth
of gold mantles, and crowns on their heads) on the two throne chairs; a
small table was placed in front of them, and then the dinner began.
The soupiere was preceded by a chamberlain in gold lace; held by a
Master of Ceremonies, and flanked on each side by a gigantic
Chevalier-garde, sabre-a-nu. There was always a collection of officials,
chamberlains, pages, etc., bringing up the rear of the cortege, so that
at each entree a little procession appeared. We saw three dishes brought
in with the same ceremony--the fish was so large on a large silver dish
that _two_ Masters of Ceremonies held that.
It was really a wonderful sight, like a picture in some old history of
the Moyen Age. As soon as the Sovereigns had taken their places on the
thrones all the Russians at their table sat down too. We couldn't,
because we had nothing to sit upon, so we remained standing at the end
of the room, facing the estrade. They told us that when the Emperor
raised his glass and asked for wine that was the signal for us to
retire; and that it would be after the roast. (All our instructions were
most carefully given to us by Benckendorff, who felt his
responsibility.) Think what his position would have been if any member
of _his_ Embassy had made a "gaffe." Accordingly as soon as the roast
made its appearance all our eyes were riveted upon the Emperor. He
raised his glass slowly (very high) to give us time. General Schweinitz,
as Doyen, stepped well forward, and made a very low bow. We all bowed
and curtseyed low (my knees are becoming more supple) and got ourselves
out backwards. It wasn't very difficult, as we had our trains over our
arms.
I don't think we shall see anything more curious than that state
banquet. I certainly shall never see again a soup tureen guarded by
soldiers with drawn swords.
10 o'clock.
We dined quietly, everyone giving his experiences--of course the younger
members of the Embassy, who had no places in the church, had a better
impression of the ensemble than we had. They said the excitement
and emotion of the crowd in the square before the church was
extraordinary. All crossed themselves, and many cried, when the cannon
told them that the Emperor was crowned. They seem to be an emotional,
superstitious race. They also said the procession around the courts,
when the Emperor and Empress were going to the various churches, was
wonderful--a moving mass of feathers, jewels, banners, bright helmets,
and cuirasses, all glittering in the sun.
After dinner we drove about a little, seeing the illuminations, but the
crowd was so dense we could hardly move, though the soldiers did all
they could, and battered the people about. Then it began to rain a
little, so I begged to come home. It is raining quite hard now--I
hear it on the marquise. Heavens how tired I am.
Of course I can't write half of what I have seen, but the papers will
keep you quite au courant. Some of the newspaper correspondents were in
the church, and of course plenty in the tribunes outside. Our carriages
certainly made a great effect, and we were cheered various times on our
way home.