box at Bicester, one of the great hunting centres. It was my first
experience of an English hunt and hunt ball, and amused me perfectly.
The house is small, with enormous stables and splendid horses. His four
in hand is well known, one of the best in England, and the coach and
servants so perfectly turned out. We have two young German secretaries,
good-looking Teutons, and two girls who have just returned from a four
months' excursion in the tropics with the Brasseys in their beautiful
yacht, the "Sunbeam."
We started on the coach on Tuesday at 10.30, well wrapped up, as there
were occasional showers and violent gusts of wind, particularly when we
stopped at crossroads to see which way the hunt was going. The meet was
at Middleton Park, Lord Jersey's fine place, and the park was a pretty
sight as we drove up. A good many people, almost all the men in pink,
but not so many women as I had expected to see. We really followed very
well, as D. knows the ground perfectly and apparently at what spot the
fox was to cross the road, which he did close to us, followed by the
whole hunt, all jumping out of the field on to the road and back again
into the other field, very good fences, too, but the horses evidently
knew just what they had to do. We drove about till 3 o'clock, and then
went back to Middleton to have luncheon. We found a most hospitable
table, and it was funny to see the people dropping in at intervals, some
of the men in their red coats, one or two ladies, and two or three
children who had been scampering about on ponies. Evidently the meal had
been going on for some time, and the supply inexhaustible; we had a very
good hot luncheon.
After lunch Lady Jersey (who is charming, very intelligent, and
interested in everything) showed us the house. Beautiful pictures and
old furniture, a massive silver table that was the dressing table of
Queen Elizabeth. Of course we hadn't time to really see all the
interesting things in the house, as it was getting late, and we still
had a fair drive before us. Notwithstanding the good and late luncheon
we were very glad to have tea when we got home. I certainly eat much
more here, I suppose it is the climate, and then the food is a little
different from what we are accustomed to, and I think very good.
The hunt ball was really very pretty, the ballroom well arranged with
foxes' heads, brushes, etc., all the men in pink. Everyone was "en
train," and everybody of all ages dancing. I should think W. and D. were
the only men in the room who didn't dance. They went home about 12, but
H. and I stayed until 2. We heard afterward that the Master of Hounds
was much depressed all the evening, as he knew he must take the French
Ambassadress to supper (of course, he didn't know that I was American
born, and could speak English), and the prospect of a long conversation
in French with a woman he didn't know filled him with dismay. However we
made friends (in English), and I hope he didn't find the supper hour too
tiresome. There are two reasons why an Englishman hates to speak French;
first, a sort of natural timidity which they all have more or less, and
then a decided objection to doing anything he doesn't want to do, or
which bores him. This country is certainly a Paradise for men, from the
nursery days when all the women of the household--nurses, maids, and
sisters, are slaves of the boys, to manhood, when equally all the women
do exactly what the men want, and regulate their lives to suit the men
of the family, who have everything their own way.
#London#,
February, 1884.
I made my debut in the official world last night at a reception at Mr.
Gladstone's in Downing Street. There were four large men's dinners (and
receptions afterward) for the opening of Parliament. Lord Granville and
Mr. Gladstone, Ministerial; Lord Salisbury and Sir Stafford Northcote,
"Her Majesty's Opposition."
The Gladstone house is small and dark (that is one of the things that
strikes me here--the rooms are so much less lighted than in Paris), and
always the chintz covers left on the furniture, which makes the rooms
look ordinary. We found a great many people there. The Duke of Cambridge
had been dining and was presented to us. He looks a fine old English
soldier (was in uniform), was very amiable, and spoke to me in French,
which he speaks very well. Quantities of people were presented to me, I
can't remember half the names. Almost all the women were in black,
half-high and no display of jewels. Mrs. Gladstone is an old lady, very
animated and civil, she wears a cap, with blue ribbons, rather as I
remember Mother. I was also presented to Countess Karolyi, Austrian
Ambassadress, very handsome, and charming manner; she speaks English as
well as I do. It seems strange to me to hear so much English spoken, it
is so long since I have been in a purely English salon. W. brought me up
various old friends of Rugby and Cambridge days; also some of the minor
diplomats, as of course I have not yet seen all my colleagues.
#Albert Gate#,
February, 1884.
I am rather bewildered by the number of people I see and the quantity of
cards left at the Embassy. I shall have to ask an English friend of mine
to look over my list and tell me who the people are, and, above all,
which cards I must return personally (or even make a personal visit) and
which can be distributed by the Chancellerie. I drive about every
afternoon for two hours leaving cards, and as no one has regular
reception days here as in Paris, I rarely find people. We have had
various dinners, political chiefly, at Mr. Gladstone's, Lord Stanhope's,
Lord Northbrook's, a child's party at Marlborough House, which was very
pretty. Francis made great friends with the two charming little
daughters of the Duchess of Edinburgh, and sat between them at tea, the
Duchess herself supplying them with cakes and sandwiches.
Yesterday there was a pleasant dinner at Lord Granville's. Two tables of
12; one presided over by him and one by Lady Granville. Her table was
covered with red tulips, and his with yellow--nothing but flowers on the
table. The drawing-rooms are large and handsome, and he has some
splendid pictures. One thing seems curious to me--all the furniture at
this season is covered with ordinary chintz housses or coverings--and
the effect is strange with all the guests in full dress, diamonds and
orders, servants in powder and breeches. We would never dream of doing
it in Paris. When we have distinguished people of any kind to dine we
make our salons as pretty as possible, and would want particularly to
uncover our handsome furniture. Here it seems they consider that the
season only begins after Easter.
Apropos of powder, it was rather an affair to put the two French footmen
in powder, as they of course had never worn it or seen it. Francis was
much excited at Yves' appearance in blue velvet breeches and powder,
Yves being a young Breton, his own special attendant. I think the maids
powdered him in the laundry. However Francis came flying downstairs
holding the reluctant Yves by the hand, to my room, saying, "Oh, Maman,
viens voir Yves, il est joli, joli!" with the youth naturally much
abashed at being so complimented in my presence.
_To H. L. K._
February 29, 1884.
We are commanded to Windsor this evening to dine and sleep. It is
inconvenient, as we have to put off a dinner of twenty-one people. The
chef is tearing his hair, as of course all his dinner is ready. When my
maid came to pack the trunks she had rather a flustered look; I thought
it was on account of the Windsor visit. Not at all. It seems a friend of
Juteau's (our chef), who is also a chef in one of the great houses,
heard that we were going to Windsor, so he wrote him a note telling him
that his wife (my maid) must be well dressed and take a low or open
bodice to Windsor for their dinner. The maid was most indignant for
being supposed not to know what was right, and answered the note saying,
"she had accompanied her mistress to every court in Europe, and knew
quite well how to dress herself."
#Windsor Castle#,
March 1, 1884.
Our dinner last night went off very well, and was not so stiff as I had
expected. We took the 6 o'clock train from Paddington, and found the
Russian Ambassador, Baron Mohrenheim, and his wife at the station. At
Windsor two or three carriages and footmen were waiting, but no equerry
as at Sandringham. We were driven to a side door at the Castle, where
two servants in plain black were waiting, who showed us at once to our
rooms. We had a pretty apartment furnished in yellow satin, with
beautiful pictures, principally portraits; a small salon with a bedroom
on each side, bright fires burning, and a quantity of candles. They
brought us tea, beautifully served all on silver, with thin bread and
butter (no muffins or toast), and almost at the same moment Sir John
Cowell, Master of the Household, came to pay us a visit. He told us who
the party was, said dinner was at 8.45, that a page would come and tell
us at 8.30, and that we should assemble in the great corridor. Quite
punctually at 8.30 they notified us, and we proceeded down the long
corridor, W. in black breeches and stockings (no order, as he hadn't the
Legion d'Honneur, and couldn't wear a foreign order), I in white
brocaded velvet and diamonds. We found the party assembled, the
Mohrenheims; Lord and Lady Kimberley; Nigra, Italian Ambassador; Lady
Churchill (who was in waiting); Lord Kenmare (Lord Chamberlain), and
Lord Dalhousie (Lord in waiting) and one or two other men. We moved up
to a door just opposite the dining-room, and about 9 the Queen came with
the Duchess of Edinburgh and Princess Beatrice. She shook hands with me
and Madame Mohrenheim; bowed very graciously to all the others, and
passed at once into the dining-room alone. Mohrenheim followed with the
Duchess of Edinburgh; Nigra with Princess Beatrice; W. with Madame
Mohrenheim; and Kimberley took me. The table was handsome, covered with
gold and silver plate, quantities of servants in red livery, plain
black, and two Highlanders in costume behind the Queen's chair.
The conversation was not very animated. The Queen herself spoke little,
and the English not at all--or so low that one couldn't understand
them--however, my Ambassador couldn't stand that long, so he began
talking most cheerfully to the Duchess of Edinburgh about Moscow,
Kertch, and antiquities of various kinds, and as the Duchess is clever
and inclined to talk, that corner became more lively. I can't say as
much for our end. I think most Englishmen are naturally shy, and the
presence of Royalty (the Queen above all) paralyses them.
[Illustration: Windsor Castle]
After dinner, which was quickly served, we all went out as we had come
in, and the Queen held a short cercle in the corridor, in the small
space between the two doors. She stood a few minutes talking to the two
Princesses, while she had her coffee (which was brought for her alone on
a small tray), and then crossed over to Madame Mohrenheim and talked a
little. She sat down almost immediately, Madame Mohrenheim remaining
standing. She then sent for me, Lord Dalhousie summoning us all in turn.
She was very gracious, saying that she could not yet stand or walk,
which worried her very much--asked me a great deal about my life in
London, did I find everything very different from Paris, and had I found
little friends and a school for Francis? The conversation was not easy.
She sat on rather a low chair, and I standing before her had to bend
down always. She was dressed in black, with her usual little cap and
veil, opal necklace, diamonds and orders. While she was talking to the
others the two Princesses moved about and talked to us. It was
pleasant--the whole cercle lasted about an hour. The Queen and
Princesses retired together, all shaking hands with me and Madame
Mohrenheim, and bowing to the others. We finished the evening in the
drawing-room with the household, staying there about half an hour, and a
little after eleven we broke up. W. has gone off to smoke--at the
extreme end of the Castle, as the Queen hates smoke and perhaps doesn't
know that anyone dares smoke here--and I am writing with about twelve
tall wax candles on my table.
It is a bright moonlight night, and the Castle looks enormous. A great
mass of towers, vaulted gateways, walled courts, and the beautiful grass
slopes that look quite green in the moonlight. The lights at the far end
seem like twinkling tapers. It is certainly a magnificent Royal
residence.
Saturday, March 1884.
We got back for lunch, leaving the Castle at 10.30. We breakfasted with
the household at 9.30; no ceremony, people coming in as they liked, and
sitting down anywhere. We loitered a little in the corridor until it was
time to start, looking at the pictures, portraits, and the curious
cabinets and the bits of old furniture which are interesting.
_To H. L. K._
#Albert Gate#,
March 14, 1884.
To-day was our first Drawing-room, and we turned out in great force, I
had three secretaries' wives. We had out our two carriages. W. and I in
the gala carriage with Count de Florian, Secretary of Embassy, Hubert
driving us, and two English giants behind; then came the landau with
merely one footman on the box, all in full dress livery, blue breeches,
silk stockings, and powdered wigs. There was a great display of troops,
and a crowd waiting on the pavement outside the door at the Embassy to
see us start. There are no porte-cocheres in London, so you go straight
out into the street to get your carriages, and a carpet is kept in the
hall, which is rolled down the steps every time you go out. The streets
were crowded as we came near Buckingham Palace.
We entered the Palace by a side entrance, leaving our wraps in one of
the rooms, and went up the great staircase, which was a pretty sight.
Quantities of plants and flowers and a long procession of women with
handsome Court dresses, splendid tiaras, and a few men in uniform--of
course women preponderate. We walked through various rooms all filled
with Court functionaries, officers in uniform, and finally arrived in
the large salon opening into the Throne-Room where all the Corps
Diplomatique and English people who had the entree were assembled.
Countess Granville, wife of the Foreign Secretary, Earl Granville,
looked most distinguished, tall and fair, in black with a handsome
tiara. Countess Karolyi, Austrian Ambassadress, was beautiful in her
Hungarian costume and splendid jewels. The Russians also most
picturesque in their national court dress, red velvet trains heavily
embroidered in gold, white veils spangled with gold, and the high
head-dress (kakoshnik) in velvet studded with jewels.
When the doors were opened the Foreign Secretary and his wife passed
first and took up their station close beside the Princess of Wales, to
name the members of the Corps Diplomatique. Then the Master of
Ceremonies gave his hand to the Doyenne--the Austrian Ambassadress--her
train was spread out by two pages,--and they entered the Throne-Room,
making low bows or curtseys on the threshold. One makes 3 curtseys; one
on entering the room, one half way and a third as one gets close to the
Princess. We followed quickly, I with my ladies coming directly behind
the Russians. The Court was small--Princess of Wales, Princess Beatrice,
Prince of Wales and Duke of Cambridge. The Princess, a charming graceful
figure dressed in dark velvet with coloured embroideries and jewels and
orders; Princess Beatrice in mauve, and the two Princes in uniform of
English Field Marshal. The Princesses shook hands with us chefesses and
bowed to the young ladies--the Princes the same. There was no sort of
trouble about the train; they are down only for a moment, just as you
pass the Queen or Princess--a chamberlain picks them up most adroitly,
puts them in your arm, and one never gives them a thought. As soon as we
had passed the group of Princes we turned into a deep window recess and
stood there until the end. That was most amusing, as we faced the door
and saw everyone come in. It amused and interested me extremely to see
how differently people passed. Most of the women looked well, their
fresh, fair skins standing the test--and a pretty severe one it is--of
full dress, white feathers and veil at three in the afternoon of a cold
March day. Many had been dressed since 12, first sitting a long time in
their carriages, and then waiting a long time in the drawing-room at the
Palace, until their turns came. They were generally timid and nervous
when they passed--some bracing themselves as if they were facing a
terrible ordeal, some racing past very quickly, forgetting to take their
trains in their arms, and pursued down the room by an impatient
chamberlain, and some, especially the debutantes, making carefully and
conscientiously the low regulation curtsey to each Prince, and trembling
with shyness. When the last person had passed the Court turned and made
us bows and curtseys--the Princess' half curtsey is charming--and it was
over. We all got away quickly.
The great hall was an interesting sight, filled with women and uniforms
of every kind, and a band playing in the great square. We had the usual
"Drawing-room tea" to show our dresses. I wore the blue embroidered
Court dress I had made for Moscow, with blue feathers and diamond tiara.
All the English women wear white feathers and veils, which naturally
does not suit everyone, particularly if they are not well put on. Some
of the coiffures were almost eccentric, one rather high feather, and a
long one very low running down one's back. The young men were pleased,
as they had many compliments for our carriages and liveries. We were the
only Embassy that had out two carriages.
_To G. K. S._
#London#,
May, 1884.
We went to the Derby this morning with Lord Cork. I had never been, and
W. not for many years. We went down by train--(special, with the Prince
and racing coterie) and I enjoyed the day. We were in the Jockey Club
box, and it was a curiosity to see the crowd on the lawn, packed tight,
and every description of person, all engrossed with the race, and wildly
interested in the horses. There was almost a solemn silence just before
the Derby was run. This time there was a tie, which is rare, I believe.
It was rather amusing driving home from Victoria, as all the balconies
along the road were decorated, and crowded with people, but I believe
the great fashion of driving down had almost disappeared. Nearly
everyone now goes down by train.
#London#,
June 28, 1884.
This morning H. and I went to the second meet of the Coaching Club on
D.'s coach. It was a pretty sight; a bright beautiful morning and Hyde
Park crowded with equipages, riders, and pedestrians--quantities of
pretty women all much dressed, principally in white, with hats trimmed
with flowers, and light parasols. The tops of the coaches looked like
flower beds. Everyone engrossed with the teams, criticising and admiring
with perfect frankness. The fly-drivers were killing, knew all the
horses, and expressed themselves freely on the way they were handled.
We drove through the Park, and then on to Richmond (not all the
coaches), where we breakfasted at the "Star and Garter." The breakfast
was good, and at dessert we had "Maids of Honour," the famous cakes that
one always gets there. We walked about the Park a little after
breakfast; it was delightful under the big trees, and then mounted our
coach again and went back by Hurlingham to see a polo match. The road
was crowded and driving very difficult, but D. is a capital whip, and I
wasn't in the least nervous, though sometimes it did seem as if the bit
of road they left us was rather narrow. However D. drove straight on
without slackening--and they do make way for a coach. I think it is a
sort of national pride in a fine team.
Hurlingham is very pretty and there were quantities of people there. We
saw very well from the top of the coach, and I must say the game was
beautifully played. Of course the men all rode perfectly, but the ponies
were so clever, quite as keen as the riders, and seemed to know all
about it. We got back to the Embassy about 8, and happily had no one to
dinner, but sat on the balcony all the evening, W. smoking, and talking
about his conference, which is not going smoothly. The English are
stiff, and the people at home unreasonable. I can't imagine how French
and English can ever work together--they are so absolutely unlike.
#London#, July, 1884.
W. went to Paris this morning and H. and I are left to our own devices.
I dined alone at the Speaker's and it was pleasant. After dinner we went
down to the terrace and walked and sat about. It was so warm that we all
sat there with bare arms and necks. It was so pretty; boats passing on
the river, all the bridges lighted, and so cool and dark on the terrace
that one could hardly recognise the people as they walked up and down. I
went back to the Embassy to get H., and we went to Devonshire House,
where there was a big reception--all the world there, and the house very
handsome, a fine staircase; Lord Hartington receiving us, as the Duke is
an old man and couldn't stand the fatigue.
[Illustration: M and Mme Waddington and Their Son
From a photograph by Cesar Paris]
_To G. K. S._
#Albert Gate#,
February 9, 1885.
This morning we have the news of the fall of Khartoum and the murder of
Gordon. W. is in the country trying horses, so I put on my hat and went
out into the Row to hear what was going on. It was crowded with people
talking and gesticulating. The Conservatives furious, "such a ministry a
disgrace to the country," and a tall man on a handsome chestnut, talking
to Admiral C. most energetically, "I am a moderate man myself, but I
would willingly give a hand to hang Gladstone on this tree." They are
much disgusted--and with reason.
Monday, February 23, 1885.
It seems to be my week, Dear Gertrude, so I will at any rate begin this
morning. We are now in full tide of dinners and routs, which last is the
most frightful species of entertainment that the human mind has ever
devised. They consist of 400 or 500 people packed close in a house which
holds about 150--so warm in the rooms that you almost stifle--and so
cold on the staircase and halls where the door is always open wide that
I always wonder how I can escape without a fluxion de poitrine. We had a
banquet ourselves last Tuesday, Harcourts Muensters, Corks, etc.,
followed by a mild dance, which was however successful, as Pourtales,
who is a gay little fellow, led a spirited cotillon, and there were 22
couples. I performed 2 quadrilles, which, naturally, is the extent of my
dancing now, unless I take a stray turn with an old partner.
Of course the great excitement has been the departure of the Guards for
Egypt, as it takes the husbands, sons, and brothers of half London away.
It does seem such a useless campaign and sacrifice of human life.
There was a child's party at Marlborough House on Friday afternoon which
was very successful. Mimi and I were bidden, or _commanded_, as the
correct phrase is, at 4 o'clock, so we took ourselves off, he in his
white sailor suit, with blue collar, and I in blue velvet. Both Prince
and Princess were very amiable, and the Duchess of Edinburgh was very
good to Mimi, as she always is, making him sit by her daughters to see
the conjuror, and at her table for tea. The children had their tea in
the dining-room, with a great many little round tables, we had ours with
the Princess. It is very informal, she always makes it herself, and
everyone sits down. The Princess Louise was also there, looking very
nice, and such a pretty figure. After the tea the children had a fine
romp, ending with a most animated Sir Roger de Coverley, in which all
the Princes--I mean the 2 younger ones, Prince Eddy and Prince
George--joined, and all the Aides-de-Camp. We didn't leave till 7--and
the afternoon was rather long, but still I must say I enjoyed myself.
Yesterday we had a pleasant dinner at Lady Hayter's--a Liberal political
salon. She has big dinners--receptions every Saturday. It was pleasant
at first, until many more people came than the house would hold, but
that is what the "Maitresse de Maison" particularly aims at.