water. We drove down to the Speaker's to see him come. The streets were
lined with troops, and there were quantities of people about. They let
us drive through the Mall and to Westminster between the lines of
soldiers (all the traffic was stopped). Almost all the houses and
balconies on the way were draped with red, and crowded with women in
their light, gay summer dresses. There were a good many people at the
Speaker's, who gave us some tea and strawberries. The Royal Barge
arrived very punctually. It was not very beautiful--an ordinary river
steamer, painted light grey, with gold lines, and fitted up with palms,
red cushions, and carpets, etc. The Thames was a pretty sight, such
quantities of boats of all kinds. We saw everything quite well. There
was a fair procession of state carriages, and an escort of Life Guards;
but what a barbarian the Shah looks, with his embroidered coat and his
big jewels, and his coarse, bad face--however he was smiling, and seemed
pleased with his reception.
We waited to let the crowd disperse a little, and then came home the
same way through Constitution Hill. We met the Prince and Princess
coming back from Buckingham Palace. Both looked very well--he in
uniform, and she in white, extraordinarily young in face and figure. The
two princes, Eddy and George, were with them, and they were much
applauded as they passed. In the evening we had a musical party at
Blumenthal's. The garden was lighted and everyone sitting outside. The
party was in honour of Princess Louise, and the music very good, as it
always is there. Mdme. Grondal, a Swedish woman, played beautifully, and
Plunkett Greene sang very well. He always brings down the house with
"I'm Off to Philadelphy in the Morning." Lord Lorne took me to supper. I
always like to talk to him. He was not much impressed with his Persian
Majesty either--thought the days of Eastern potentates were over. I
asked him what he had come for, and why the English were so civil to
him; to which he replied, "Oh, I suppose some of the swells want
concessions, or railways."
Monday, July 8, 1889.
We went to Hatfield this morning, where there was a luncheon party for
the Shah. It was decidedly grey and uncertain, in fact, raining a little
when we started, and I looked once or twice at my creme linon trimmed
with Valenciennes--but as I had ordered it especially for that occasion,
I decided to wear it. I put on a long cloak for the train. The Hatfield
parties are always very well arranged--trains starting every ten
minutes. It is hardly three-quarters of an hour from London. There were
lots of people, and the short trajet passed quickly enough. All the
women were looking at each other to see the dresses, as the weather was
really bad. At Hatfield, one of Lord Salisbury's sons was at the station
to receive the swells. I got separated in the crowd from W., so Lord
Edward put me into a brougham, and asked me if I would take another
Ambassador, as mine was missing for the moment. I agreed, of course, so
Comte Hatzfeldt came with me. There was a large party staying in the
house, including the Prince and Princess, the Shah, and various members
of the family and Court. Lady Salisbury was standing at one of the big
doors opening on the terrace. Lord Salisbury, she told me, was taking
the Shah for a drive in the park. We all loitered about a little on the
terrace. The rain had stopped and, though there was no sun, the house
looked beautiful with its grey walls and splendid lines. The first
person I saw was the Duc d'Aumale, and we had quite a talk while waiting
for luncheon. The Prince also came out and talked. Luncheon was served
at small, round tables in the great dining-room. As Doyens we were at
the Royal table. The Prince took me, and I had next to me the Grand
Vizier, who had taken in Lady Londonderry. She is very handsome, very
well dressed, and the Grand Vizier enjoyed himself very much. It seems
he is a very difficult gentleman, and at some man's house party,
Ferdinand Rothschild's, I think, he was not pleased with his reception,
or his place at the table, and declined to come downstairs. There were
about 70 people at luncheon, and as many more, they told me, upstairs.
Quantities of flowers, silver, servants, etc., and a band playing. After
breakfast we all adjourned to the terrace and some photographic groups
were taken. There was some wonderful shooting by some Americans which
interested the Persians very much, and one of the Shah's suite was most
anxious to try his hand at it, and forcibly took a rifle from the
American, who protested vigorously, but the Persian kept hold of his gun
and evidently meant to shoot, so the American appealed directly to the
Prince, saying there would be an accident if he was allowed to go on;
and the Prince interfered and persuaded the irate Oriental to give up
his weapon.
They had asked a great many people to tea, but evidently the rain had
kept many away. The toilettes were most varied--every description of
costume, from the Duchess of Rutland in white satin and diamonds (large
stones sewed all over the body of her dress) to the simplest description
of blue serge, covert coat, and even a waterproof carried over one's
arm. I was thinking of going to get a cup of tea, when I crossed again
the Duc d'Aumale, who was also looking for the tea-table, so we went off
together and had a pleasant "quart d'heure." He is always so nice to W.
and me, and is so distinguished-looking wherever he is--such
extraordinary charm of manner and so soldierly. He had been much amused
by the stories he had heard of the eccentricities of the Persian suite.
One of the ladies staying in the house found two gentlemen sitting on
her bed when she went up to dress for dinner. I must say I think it was
awfully good of Lady Salisbury to ask them all to stay.
[Illustration: Group at Hatfield House during the visit of the Shah of
Persia, July, 8, 1889 From a photograph by Russell & Sons London
The following are among those in the picture Prince of Wales Lord
Salisbury Shah of Persia Princess of Wales Rustem Turkish Ambassador
Hatzfeldt German Ambassador Lord Halsbury the Lord Chancellor M de
Staal Russian Ambassador Duc d'Aumale Countess of Cadogan M
Waddington French Ambassador Madame Waddington Countess of Galloway
Duchess of Devonshire]
Saturday, July 27th.
Princess Louise of Wales and Fife were married this morning in the small
chapel at Buckingham Palace. Very few people were asked, no diplomats
except Falbe, Danish Minister, who is a great favourite at Court, and
asked always. The streets, especially Piccadilly, were crowded with
people. We had to go round by Belgrave Square and Buckingham Palace to
get to Marlborough House. We were invited at 2 o'clock to see the bride
and the presents. The wedding party drove up just as we arrived. Fife's
coach, dark green with green and gold liveries, was very handsome. The
Princess of Wales looked radiant, and the bride charming--beautifully
dressed and just pale enough to be interesting. The King of Greece and
Crown Prince of Denmark were both there. The presents were
beautiful--every imaginable thing in diamonds and silver. The Prince and
Princess's tiara very handsome--also Fife's. There was a buffet and tea
in the garden, also in the drawing-rooms; and we waited to see the young
couple start. They looked very happy and smiling. Their carriage was
very handsome, with four black horses and an outrider. Everyone cheered
and threw rice after them. They started with a Royal escort, but at the
top of the park Fife sent it back, and they made their entry into Sheen
in his carriage only. They said he made a condition that there should be
no lady-in-waiting, that his wife should be Duchess of Fife only; but of
course she can never lose her rank. None but Ambassadors were asked to
the reception at Marlborough House--no other diplomats.
July 30th.
We had our last dinner this season--musical and all Italians, Tosti,
Vinci, and Picolellis. Mme. de Florian came in late with her dinner
guests, among others the Duchesse de Richelieu, who is very fond of
music. Tosti is delightful once he gets to the piano, sings (with no
voice) and plays whatever one wants--his own music, anybody's, and
always so simply. It was very warm. We all sat and stood on the balcony
when we were not playing and singing.
_To G. K. S._
#Hatfield#, January 8, 1891.
We came down last night for dinner. It was very cold, snow and ice in
London, and skating everywhere. We are not a very large party--the
family, some of Lord Salisbury's secretaries, Casa Laiglesia (just made
Ambassador--very happy. Spain had only a _Minister_ here till now), the
Duke and Duchess of Newcastle, etc. After dinner the older members of
the party played whist, and the young ones danced in the great hall.
This time we have King James I.'s rooms, an enormous bed (with a Royal
crown on the top) where he really slept. We have been out all day; the
gentlemen went off early to shoot, and I got down about 12. I found some
of the young women, Ladies Cranborne and Northcote, in the hall and we
decided we would go and skate. It was bitterly cold, but no wind, and
the pond is not far, just at the end of the terrace. There was a little
wooden house on the edge where we put on our skates, and plenty of
chairs and canes. Ladies Northcote and Gwendoline Cecil skate very well.
Lady Salisbury came down to the pond, took a broom from one of the
numerous sweepers, and swept hard to keep herself warm. After lunch I
went for a sleigh ride with Lady Salisbury in a pretty little one-horse
sleigh she had bought at the Exhibition. It was very good going in the
park, but we bumped occasionally going across the fields. To-night we
broke up rather early; we were all tired with the first day's skating,
and the men with their shooting.
[Illustration: Lord Salisbury
From a photograph by Weston & Son Dover]
Friday.
It has been again a beautiful winter's day, and we have skated all the
afternoon until dark. Lady Salisbury came again with her broom and swept
vigorously. It seems many doctors recommend sweeping now for women who
need exercise and cannot ride or walk. We tried hard to make Casa
Laiglesia come down to the pond, but he refused absolutely--that was not
at all his idea of pleasure. We spent some time in the library looking
over some of the old manuscripts of the time of Queen Elizabeth and King
Philip of Spain, and we saw him taking a short, very short turn on the
terrace in the sun, wrapped up so as to be almost "meconnaissable."
#London#, January 18th.
It is still very cold--the Serpentine is quite frozen, and quantities of
people skating. The ice is very bad, rather like a ploughed field, but
it is amusing to see all the people. We have been this afternoon to
Wimbledon, and there it was delightful. There was quite a large part
reserved and beautifully smooth, belonging to a club; so Comte de St.
Genys (one of the secretaries), who was with us, sent in his card,
saying he was there with the French Ambassadress; and they were most
civil, brought us chairs, and begged us to come back whenever we liked.
We saw some beautiful fancy skating, both men and women. We skated
afterward a little on the big lake to see the people. It was a beautiful
day, and a very pretty sight, quite like a Dutch picture.
I was interrupted by a visit from Mr. Bryce. He came really to ask about
you and to know if you would stay on at Alassio. He spoke so warmly and
admiringly of Schuyler that it was a pleasure to hear him. He said he
was certainly the cleverest, most cultivated American he had ever seen,
that he had never met anyone who knew so many things well. He couldn't
conceive how any Government that had such a man to place could have let
any party feeling prevent them from giving him a prominent place, in
their own interest.
#Albert Gate#,
Thursday, February 19th.
We have had a funny day. There was a sale of horses, hunters
principally, at Cricklewood, a place just outside of London, where they
have very good horses. We have been there several times with Deichmann,
who has always fine horses, and have bought two or three ourselves. I am
looking for a saddle horse, so W. and I drove out the other day, and I
tried two which I liked very much (there is a riding-school where one
can try). Then Newman, the head man, rode them over some hurdles to show
me how well they jumped. They promised to let us know when the sale
would be, and yesterday sent word we must come to-day. I drove out with
Hilda in her pony carriage. We drew up close to the ring and the
auctioneer's stand and saw everything well. Her horses were taken out
and we made ourselves as comfortable as we could with furs and
couvertures. It was bitterly cold, with a high wind that cut one in two.
W. and Deichmann wandered about in the crowd. The collection of people
was most amazing, horsey to a degree; horse dealers, trainers, jockeys,
racing men and women--a few gentlemen here and there, not many. There
was a champagne lunch going on at Newman's, but that we declined--so
they brought us tea and excellent bread and butter to the carriage. The
two horses I had tried were among the first and I hoped I should get one
of them, but they brought much more than the dealers supposed they
would. They looked extremely well when they were brought out first,
galloped over the grass, and then jumping their hurdles beautifully,
taking them easily in a long stride (of course they were beautifully
handled, every point made the most of). W. made various bids, but when
it got beyond a certain sum he wouldn't give any more, as it was a fancy
price and could have gone up indefinitely. I was rather disappointed, as
I had set my heart on the black horse. It was cold driving home in the
teeth of the wind. We dined with the Deichmanns, with some of our
colleagues, and everyone was discussing the Empress Frederick's visit to
Versailles. Until then everything had gone most swimmingly, but of
course all French people were "froisses" at that. I don't exactly
understand her going. She is so intelligent, and had apparently realised
quite well how difficult it would be for her ever to go to Paris. Years
ago in Rome, where we met her almost every night, she told us she was so
anxious to go to Paris, but she was afraid she could not manage it. She
wanted very much to meet Renan--admired his books so much, and his great
intelligence; and I think she would have been delighted with him. He was
a charming talker on every subject, and so easy.
_To G.K.S._
#Albert Gate#,
Tuesday, March 10, 1891.
We had an awful storm yesterday, a regular blizzard, and a terrible
night in the Channel. One of the good boats, the Victoria, was out all
night, not daring to land at either Dover or Calais. One of our young
attaches was on board, bringing over despatches, and they say he looked
green when he finally did arrive. The trains were snowed up everywhere,
even between Folkestone and London, and the passengers nearly frozen and
starved. It seems incredible in such a short distance. The young men are
generally rather eager to bring over despatches, but I rather think this
one won't try it again, in winter at any rate. I am extraordinarily
lucky in my crossings, because probably I am a good sailor. I go
backward and forward in all seasons and always have good weather. The
Florians have had some wonderful crossings, nine hours between Calais
and Dover, both of them _tied_ in their chairs, and the chairs tied to
the mast.
Thursday, March 12, 1891.
Yesterday we were at Windsor to dine and sleep. The party was
small--Staal, the Russian Ambassador, Lord Hartington, Sir Frederick
Leighton, Lord and Lady Curzon, Countess Perponcher and Count
Seckendorff in attendance on the Empress Frederick, and of course the
regular members of the Queen's Household. Lady Antrim was in waiting. We
assembled as usual in the long corridor close to the door by which the
Royal party entered. We were all in black, as the Empress was there. The
Queen and the Empress came in together. The Queen shook hands with me
and the two Ambassadors--the Empress with me only, bowing to the others.
She is still in deep mourning--her dress black (woollen stuff of some
kind) covered with crepe, and a crepe veil arranged in a point, or sort
of Mary Stuart cap, on the top of her head, and falling behind to the
edge of her skirt. The corsage was a little open, and she had a splendid
necklace of pearls, also a miniature of the Emperor Frederick set in
diamonds fastened on the front of her bodice. The dress was very
becoming--she looked very stately and graceful as she walked through the
corridor. She gave her arm to the Queen, and they walked in first to the
dining-room, the Empress sitting next to the Queen on her right. W.
followed with Princess Beatrice, sitting on the Queen's left; Staal with
Princess Margaretta, and sat on the right of the Empress. Lord
Hartington took me. The Queen talked a great deal to W.--the Empress
joined in occasionally. They were both much interested in the
Protestants in France, and wanted to know if the feeling was as strong
as in the old days of Huguenots and Catholics. I think there is a very
strong feeling, and it is rare when a French Protestant marries a
Catholic--rarer still when they become Catholics.
The dinner is always quickly served, and the conversation nil. Nobody
talks except those who are next the Princesses. The cercle was, as
usual, in the corridor between the two doors. The Queen stood a little,
but not all the time. She spoke to me about Johannes Wolff--admired his
playing so much. The Empress talked a long time to W., and spoke
immediately about her visit to Paris and Versailles, which was rather
awkward for him, as he regretted very much that she had gone. All the
first part of her stay went so well. She told W. she had had nothing but
respect, and even sympathy wherever she had been, and that she was much
astonished and distressed when she saw the papers and found what a storm
was raging in the press. The Queen said a few words to me about the
visit, and seemed to think it was a radical demonstration against the
Government. I answered vaguely that all radicals made mischief--it
wasn't a very easy subject to discuss. The cercle was not very
long--about three-quarters of an hour--and then the Court retired, the
two Sovereigns going out as they came in, together. We finished the
evening in the drawing-room, but broke up early. W. went off to smoke,
and I had a nice hour in the beautiful little yellow salon. I had a
splendid fire, quantities of candles (always my mania--I hate lamps,
particularly in these days of petroleum), and was quite happy. Adelaide
was very eloquent over the style of the housekeeper's room, and was
funny over Charles, our French footman, and his indignation at being
excluded from the society of the valets and ladies' maids. W.'s man was
ill, so he took the French footman, who has often done his service. That
gentleman being in livery was considered one of the lower servants (sat
some way below the salt) and when the swells (Adelaide, of course,
included) retired to the housekeeper's room for dessert and coffee he
remained with the under servants. All these domestic arrangements are
quite unheard of in France--any distinctions of that kind would set the
whole establishment in a storm.
It was a cold night, snow lying thick on the ground, clouds dark and
low, and the great towers looked grim and formidable. W. came in about
12--said the talk in the fumoir was pleasant. He likes Count Seckendorff
very much, finds him intelligent and moderate and sensible in his
opinions--like all men who have knocked about a great deal and who know,
not only other countries but the _people_ of the country. After all,
churches, and palaces, and picture galleries have a certain
"resemblance," but people are different, and sometimes very interesting.
We came away this morning at 10.30. I did not see anyone except Lady
Antrim, as I never go to the dining-room for breakfast. I was ready a
little before the time, and wandered about the corridor a little,
looking at all the pictures. I met Staal doing the same thing. There is
so much to see.
It is a beautiful bright day, and Hyde Park looked very animated as we
drove through. Everyone was waiting to see the Queen pass. She arrived
about an hour after us, as there is a Drawing-room to-morrow. We had
some music this afternoon--2 pianos, 8 hands--and we play rather well a
splendid symphony of Brahms'--not at all easy. We dined with Mr. Henry
Petre, one of the most soigne dinners in London. It is always pleasant
at his house--they say it is because he is a bachelor, which is not very
flattering to _us_, but I think it is true, I don't know why. As we were
out we _went on_, as they say here, to Lady Aberdeen, who had a small
dance, but did not stay very long, as it was rather a young company.
People always say there is nothing going on in London before the season,
but we dine out every night and often have (I at least) something in the
afternoon--a tea, or music. I don't believe anybody ever dines at home
in London. The theatres are always crowded, quite as much as in Paris.
Hilda and I went the other night with Count Seckendorff to see
"Charlie's Aunt," a ridiculous farce which is having a great success. He
protested at first at our choice--would have preferred something more
classic, but he was perfectly amused (though protesting all the time).
The piece is absolutely stupid, but so well played that the house was in
roars of laughter, and that is always infectious. The man who played the
part of the maiden aunt was extraordinarily well got up. His black silk
dress and mittens were lovely--he looked really a prim old spinster and
managed his skirts so well.
Saturday, April 4, 1891.
We lunched to-day with Ferdinand Rothschild to meet the Empress
Frederick. We were a small party, principally Diplomatists. The Deyms,
Hatzfeldt, Soveral, Harry Whites, etc. The Empress came (punctually)
with Countess Perponcher and Seckendorff. The lunch was very handsome,
quickly served and very animated, everybody talked. I had Hatzfeldt on
the other side (I sat between him and Rothschild) so I was quite
happy--there is nobody I like so much to talk to. He is very clever,
very entrain, speaks French beautifully and talks about anything--just
enough "moqueur" to keep one's wits sharpened. We had a discussion as to
what was the origin of "Mrs. Grundy." None of us knew. I must ask
Jusserand, who will I am sure be able to tell us.
We were all dressed in black velvet, one would have thought it was a
"mot d'ordre." The Empress is very easy and likes to talk. She asked me
if I knew Deroulede, said she heard some of his poetry was charming. I
told her the "Chants du Soldat" were delightful, but _I_ couldn't send
them to her (they are all about the Franco-German War). One of the
ladies, Mrs. White I think, said she would.
Tuesday, April 21, 1891.
We had a pleasant little dinner Sunday night for Wormser, the composer
of "L'Enfant Prodigue," which has had an enormous success here. Wolff
came too, and they played all the evening. I haven't seen the piece yet,
so I was delighted to hear the music. I promised him I would go on
Wednesday, my first free night.
Last night I went with Lady Northcote to the Opera; it was "Lohengrin"
with Miss Eames and the Reszkes. The girl looked beautiful, quite the
patrician maiden, and sang very well; a little cold, but that was of
less importance in that opera than in "Romeo and Juliet," which needs
more passion. The house was very full and she was much applauded. Jean
de Reszke looked magnificent and sang divinely. What a voice it is, and
how well he knows how to use it. I fancy Covent Garden is a much better
salle to sing in than our great Paris Opera. The voices seem so far off
there, and all the singers complain and get soon tired. W. came in late
just as I did. He had had a delightful dinner at Mr. Murray's (the
publisher) with Mr. Gladstone. He said Mr. G. was in great form, talking
about everything: books, politics, theories, and always with a perfect
knowledge of each subject expressed in beautiful English. He must have a
marvellous memory.
_To H. L. K_.
#French Embassy#,
June 6, 1891.