the children's comedy. The moment is not exactly propitious in the
height of the London season when every instant is taken, but I think we
can make something pretty, and Mdme. Thenard is very keen about it. We
shall take the "Reine des Fees"--but very much changed, and parts added
for every child--also a gavotte and a chorus. I saw some of the mammas,
Countess Deym; Mdme. de Bille; Ladies Londonderry, Clanwilliam, etc.,
yesterday, and they will let me have their daughters. Thenard will
direct the whole thing, with Count de St. Genys (Secretary of the French
Embassy in London) as regisseur and also decorateur, as he has begun
painting a charming decor (the interior of the bailiff's cottage). Mdme.
de Langhe will undertake the choeurs and lecons de diction, and I don't
quite know yet whom we shall get for the gavotte, or how many children
we must have. The dresses will be pretty--two sets--Marie Antoinette and
all her ladies in powder--Trianon costumes--and peasants, market women,
etc. Of course the boys are a difficulty. There are so few who are here
of Francis's old friends--they are all at school. Thenard has a little
friend (girl) whom she will dress as a Marquis--she says she will look
the part very well. Francis is much excited--he is to be the cruel
bailiff who takes all the money and everything else he can get from the
poor peasants. St. Genys will see about his costume, and make a croquis
from some picture of the period.
June 12, 1891.
We are all (except the Ambassador) perfectly taken up with the
comedie--and to-day we had our first repetition of the gavotte in the
drawing-room. I hadn't thought of saying anything about the dancing to
the young men, and it seems the "chancellerie" went nearly mad; their
rooms being directly under the salons, they heard everything--the music
beginning the same thing over and over again--and the heavy little feet
that couldn't stay long on the tips of their toes. I had some trouble in
finding a dancing-mistress--I thought first of the American who had that
dancing class here where all the children went, but she didn't seem to
understand exactly what I wanted. Finally some one told me I had much
better send for Mrs. Roffy--ballet-mistress at the Alhambra--who has
sometimes arranged menuets and gavottes for "les femmes du monde"; so I
wrote to her to come and see me. She knew exactly what I wanted, would
undertake the whole thing--how many children--what sort of a dance--was
most business-like--and we fixed the first repetition at once. There
were about 20 children, of all ages and sizes, varying from 3 years to
14--Muriel White, Gay Edwardes and her brother, a little de Breunen,
Elsa Deichmann, etc. Mrs. Roffy looked very nice. She is very tall, but
rather graceful--she had a little black bag in which were her black silk
stockings and pointed slippers, and asked if she might have a room to
arrange herself--so Clarisse took charge of her. I took the piano--and
most distracting it was--as no two of the children ever began their
steps at the same time. It was amusing to see Mrs. Roffy. She moved
extraordinarily gracefully for such a tall woman, and was so
patient--holding up her dress, pointing her toes, and talking to them
all the time--"Heads up, Dears--Heads up! Look at me--very proud,
please." I should have given up in despair after a quarter of an hour.
All the little arms and legs went at wrong times in wrong directions,
and no one seemed to have the slightest idea of time. She will give one
or two private lessons to some of the very small ones.
Madame de Langhe, too, has her hands full with the chorus, "Vive la
Reine"--but I think she must have some one behind the scenes to sing the
solo, and then the children will come out strong in the chorus. The
roles are all distributed--Bianca Deym--a tall handsome girl--is to be
Marie Antoinette; and the various other Court ladies are Lady Helen
Stewart (Lady Londonderry's daughter), Lady J. Meade (Lady Clanwilliam's
daughter), Marguerite Phelps, Anna Lawrence, Elsa de Bille, etc. I think
it will be pretty.
June 15, 1891.
Hilda and I have been half over London to-day for our stage scenes. We
must have real ones representing a sort of wood where the market people
have their stands, and the Queen and the ladies come to buy
flowers--also sufficient space for the gavotte. The man promises to send
it all the day before, as the children must rehearse at least once with
the real scenes--for their entrees--that is always a little difficulty.
The bigger girls do all right, but the little ones rush in--speak very
quickly--and _always_ to Thenard, who stands at one side--looking hard
at her to see if they are doing right--and paying no attention whatever
to Her Gracious Majesty Queen Marie Antoinette. Muriel White is very
good, very deliberate, very careful, and taking all the French nuances
and intonations very well. Gay Edwardes, too, is very good--her French
is pretty and easy, she learnt it so young in Paris. One of the others
(I forget which one) was having a private lesson in a corner with
Francis, who was trying to make her roll her Rs in a proper French
fashion. She had a complaint to make of her garden--all about "carottes"
et "giroflees," and the sentences had a true British ring. Francis is
very important, takes himself quite "au serieux," and is most interested
in the proper diction of all the young ladies. I sat some time in the
drawing-room while St. Genys was painting his scenes. We had various
visitors (even W., who was very complimentary over the decor), tea, and
Thenard to settle about a rampe of flowers and tapestry curtain.
Saturday, June 20, 1891.
I am rather lazy this morning and feel as if I had suddenly nothing to
do. The comedie went off very well yesterday and was a pretty sight.
Until the last moment I was doubtful, as we had so many peripeties. At
the dress rehearsal on Thursday, Bianca Deym (Marie Antoinette) was so
hoarse she could hardly speak. The girl looked very handsome and
distinguished in powder (tres bien coiffee) and one of her mother's
handsome Court dresses, but Thenard wouldn't let her speak--said all her
part herself, and told Bianca to pay great attention to her voice and
gestures. Toupet (Francis), the cruel bailiff, had such a stiff neck and
sore throat that he could hardly move--so he was rubbed hard with
Elliman's Embrocation and sent to bed as soon as the repetition was
over. His costume was very good--coat and long waistcoat of prune
cloth--lace jabot--tricorne and gold-headed cane lent by one of his
English cousins--a wig of course--which quite changed him. The girls
looked charming--I don't know which was the most becoming--the powder
and Court dress or the short skirts and high caps of the paysannes. The
gavotte went very well. The small children in front and the bigger ones
behind. I never could have believed that anyone could evolve anything
like a gavotte from the whirling chaos of arms and legs that was my
first impression. M. Lecomte (Secretary of the Embassy), who is a very
good musician, was at the piano, and marked the time very exactly, which
was absolutely necessary for such young performers.
Various friends and Mammas came to look on and criticise--which was what
we wanted--and all were pleased. Thenard and St. Genys were quite
delighted--and as they have seen it from the first and noted the
improvement, that was reassuring. Henry Edwardes came, much amused and
slightly astonished at his children's performance (the boy was so good).
He told me he considered it quite remarkable. He offered to take charge
of the green-room the day of the performance, and I accepted with
pleasure, as I am sure the children will be rather excited and probably
unruly.
I had a note from Miss Knollys while the repetition was going on saying
that the Princess of Wales and her two daughters, Princesses Victoria
and Maud, would be present on Friday at the performance. I announced
this at once to my young troupe, and they were filled with pleasure and
dismay at the appalling prospect of playing before Royalties. I went for
a ride Friday morning with Pontavice and when I came in was given a wild
note from the Countess Deym saying that Bianca had a complete
"extinction de voix" and what could be done. If someone else could take
the part (which was impossible at such short notice) she would send all
her daughter's dress, which was very handsome, or Bianca would come and
look the part and Thenard do the talking from the coulisses. Of course I
chose the latter, and sent off Clarisse at once to the Austrian Embassy
with a remedy that Mdme. Richard of the Opera gave me. Francis was all
right, his neck quite straight. After breakfast I had a last practice
with him and Lecomte for the gavotte. I got in a small piano from Erard
(my big one took up too much room behind the scenes) and then I
dismissed the whole thing from my mind, and went to dress. I told the
children to be there at 4.30 so as to begin the minute the Princess
arrived. She said she would come at five.
The little blue salon was a pretty sight when it was filled with all the
children in costume. Thenard's Marquis looked too sweet--she had dressed
the girl so well in satin coat, ruffles, and silk stockings, and
enormous paste buckles on her shoes. She did her part perfectly--so
easy, and such pretty French. The Princess came punctually with her two
daughters, and the play began at once. I think there were about 100
people--we couldn't seat any more as the stage took up a good deal of
room. The prettiest scenes were the Trianon and the Market Place. In the
Trianon, Marie Antoinette was seated surrounded by her ladies, and le
Marquis telling them "les petites nouvelles de la cour." The child was
killing when she took out her snuff-box and made flowery phrases. The
Market was very well arranged with flowers and vegetables. Violet
Freeman made a splendid old woman at one stall, and Hilda Deichmann did
her boy's part very well. After the Queen had made her round (her voice
came back, though she was rather hoarse still) she and her ladies
retired a little to the background, where the Court made a brilliant
group, while the peasants sang their chorus, "Vive la Reine." Then came
the gavotte, which really went extremely well. Mrs. Roffy was breathless
with recommendations until the last moment. Both chorus and gavotte were
encored, and there was much applause when the curtain fell.
[Illustration:
Violet Freeman Francis Waddington
A Comedy for Children at the French Embassy
From a Photograph by Barker & Pragnell London]
The Princess, who is always so gracious, asked me what I would like her
to do, so I said if she would allow the whole troupe to defile before
her I would name each one--and I knew it would give them great pleasure.
She agreed at once, so the procession, headed by Marie Antoinette,
passed, and the Princess shook hands with every one, talking a little to
those she knew. They all applauded when Toupet, with his wig and cane,
appeared. Then I named Mdmes. Thenard and Roffy--and I wish you could
have seen those ladies' curtseys (Mdme. Roffy's particularly splendid),
also St. Genys and Lecomte. The whole thing lasted a short hour, even
with the repetition of chorus and gavotte. We had tea in the
drawing-room--the children downstairs. The Princess told me she thought
it charming--quite wonderful. The only two French children were Francis
and the Marquis, but I must say I thought the others quite wonderful.
When the Princess went away all the children assembled in the hall at
the foot of the stairs, bowing and curtseying--and it was a pretty
sight, such a mass of colour and flushed, eager little faces. The
Princess told them all again how much she had enjoyed the performance,
and it was quite a happy little crowd that dispersed soon afterward to
their respective homes. W. complimented Thenard very much, who had given
herself no end of trouble--also Mdme. de Langhe, who had undertaken the
chorus. Some of the ladies were rather anxious we should repeat the
performance for the benefit of some charity, but W. didn't like to have
a paying thing at the Embassy; and at one of the public halls it would
not have been very easy--some of the ladies objected.
I dined at home, but went to a concert in the evening, and had various
compliments for my troupe. The Prince of Wales told me that the Princess
had told him it was quite charming. I think on the whole W. was pleased.
He was rather doubtful about inviting the Princess--thought it was a
little informal, and would bore her, but I don't think it did.
Tuesday, June 23, 1891.
We have had various notices in the French papers of the comedie; generally
"une bonne presse," but one or two of the very Republican papers expressed
great surprise at such a _Royalist Demonstration_--couldn't imagine _why_
we had chosen that particular chorus, "Vive la Reine," at an Embassy
representing the French Republic!
I am sorry you couldn't come over--all the repetitions would have amused
you so much. Nothing was funnier than to see Francis always in a corner
with some of the girls. Madame Campan (Elsa de Bille) had a long thing
to say, and was most anxious to have the correct accent.
_To H. L. K._
#London#,
July 8, 1891.
I dined quietly with some of the personnel last night, and had Thekla
Staal, as her mother and father had gone to Windsor for the State
banquet for the German Emperor. Mdme. de Staal came in for a moment on
her way home--she said it was very handsome, very well done, as it
always is at Windsor, only they were all rather uncomfortable, as they
went down from London by special train in full dress--diamonds and
feathers--and when they arrived at the Castle they were asked to take
off their wraps in the hall, no dressing-room of any kind provided. I
don't know what my erratic hair would have looked like. Of course I
couldn't go on account of my mourning.
All London was on the "qui vive" this morning, as the German Emperor was
to make his formal entry into London. I thought I wouldn't go in the
carriage and take up a position, so Mrs. Edwardes suggested that I
should go with her to Constitution Hill, where she had places, and see
the Emperor pass there; so we started off on foot quite cheerfully, but
as soon as we got outside the Park and wanted to cross the Square, we
were confronted by lines of soldiers and policemen, who refused to let
us pass. I explained who I was and that I was merely going to cross to
Constitution Hill, but they evidently thought nothing of an Ambassadress
in a simple black dress with neither equipage nor servants, and we were
getting rather discouraged when I saw a Park-keeper who knew me, so he
instantly went after one of the heads of the mounted police, who
appeared, made way for us and accompanied us (he riding) across the
Square. Some of our friends, who were looking on from windows in the
houses opposite, were rather anxious--thought we had been arrested. We
waited a little while and very soon the head of the procession appeared.
We made ourselves as small as we could and squeezed close up to the
gate, but the Horse Guards on their big, black horses came unpleasantly
near and the least plunge or kick would have been disastrous. The Royal
carriage passed quite close to us at a quick trot. The Emperor looked
very wide-awake and soldierly in blue dragoon uniform; the Empress, tall
and fair, in white, was seated next to him; the Prince of Wales and the
Duke of Edinburgh on the front seat. There was not much enthusiasm, a
few hats (not all) lifted. The Emperor saluted all the time,
mechanically. When he saw me he leaned forward, smiled and bowed in
evident recognition. I can't think how he knew me, standing there in a
crowd of nursery-maids and children. He had seen me but twice before,
and then in the evening in full dress. I suppose it is that
extraordinary memory, instinct almost, that all Princes have, and which
does them such good service. Everyone is pleased and flattered at being
recognised by a Royalty. I was, too, just like all the rest. I wasn't
mistaken in thinking he knew me. He told one of our secretaries at the
reception at the Palace that he had seen Mdme. Waddington _standing_ in
the crowd.
Hilda came to dinner with Countess Eulenbourg (wife of the Master of
Ceremonies of the German Court) and her boy. They were very late, as the
Countess had been to Buckingham Palace to see the Empress. She said the
confusion was something awful. She had great difficulty in getting in,
was sent from pillar to post and finally the carriage was allowed to
enter through the stable-yard. She was glad to have a quiet evening. Her
husband was at the gala performance at the Opera with the Emperor and
Empress. She spoke a great deal about the Emperor, said it was
impossible to be with him without feeling what a strong personality he
is; that what he felt was right and best for Germany he would certainly
do--also that he would never shirk a responsibility, or put the blame on
others if he made a mistake. It seems curious to be suddenly out of
everything. W. is still in France[11] and of course our deep mourning
makes all Court and gala things impossible for us. I think W. must come
back before the Emperor goes and try to see him in a private audience,
if nothing else can be arranged.
[11] Where he had been summoned on account of the death of his mother.
Thursday, 9th.
All the Corps Diplomatique were received this morning at Buckingham
Palace--the men by the Emperor, the women by the Empress. Hatzfeldt
presented the men. In W.'s absence, d'Estournelles represented the
Embassy (with all the secretaries of course). As he was only Charge
d'Affaires, he could not take W.'s place as Doyen at the head of the
row--on the contrary, was quite at the end; after all the Ministers of
the small Powers--however they made a little group apart. The Emperor
talked a little while to d'Estournelles--regretted very much not seeing
W.--knew that he was still in France, and told him to tell me that he
had recognised me at once in the Park. He said a few words to each
member of the Embassy. The ladies were presented by Mdme. de Staal--my
young women told me she did it very well, passing down the line with the
Empress and naming every one. They also found the Empress very gracious,
saying something to each one--of course there is never any real
conversation on such occasions, people are usually in a hurry and
anxious to get through their _function_.
This afternoon was the garden party at Marlborough House--Mdme.
d'Estournelles and Florian came in afterward to tell me about it; also
Mme. de Bille (wife of the Danish Minister), she is an American, nee
Zabriskie. They said there was a great crowd, and such a hedge of loyal
subjects around the Royalties that it was almost impossible to see them
even. Princess of Monaco (nee Heine), who was with the Court (her
husband being a "prince regnant," of a minute principality certainly),
made a sign to Countess de Florian to come and speak to her, and she
also had quite a talk with Princess Amelie of Schleswig Holstein, cousin
of the German Emperor, whom she had known as a girl in Pau, when her
father, Marquis de Nadaillac, was Prefet there. Staal came in late, and
hopes that W. will come back (he is always such a good colleague). He
thinks it will make a bad effect, the French Ambassador being the only
one absent. He thinks he ought to come over for the breakfast at the
Mansion House, which is strictly official, and where the Emperor will
probably make a speech. I will write to him to-night and tell him what
they all say.
Friday, July 10th.
I rode this morning with Pontavice, the Military Attache, and just
missed the Emperor, who was riding with six or seven officers, all in
uniform, which seems strange, as the officers never wear uniform except
when they are on duty. We sometimes see the officer of the day riding in
the Row in uniform, but never any other. In Paris it is quite different;
all the officers of the Paris garrison, which is a very large one,
always ride in uniform in the Bois in the morning. I went to the War
Office afterward to see the Emperor, Empress, and Prince and Princess
pass on their way to the Lord Mayor's banquet. The display of troops was
rather mesquin--the Grenadiers standing so far apart that there were
groups of street boys in between. The Royalties were fairly applauded
(the Prince and Princess are always whenever they appear). The Emperor
was in a white uniform, but his helmet is so big and heavy and so low on
his face that one could hardly see him. Francis and I dined quietly at
the Russian Embassy, and the Staals told us all about the various fetes.
They said the getting away from the Mansion House was awful--when the
gentlemen of the household were trying to make a passage for the
Princess of Wales there was a general skirmish, one of the ladies of the
Corps Diplomatique was struck on the shoulder by one of the gentlemen,
and there was a fine row--the husband of the lady furious, the
unfortunate equerry protesting, saying he was incapable of such an
enormity, etc. However, excuses were made and peace restored.
Saturday, July 11th.
I rode this morning with Pontavice, and we met the Emperor, also riding,
several times; but he did _not_ recognise me this time in my habit. He
had six or seven officers with him and two grooms. All the officers, the
Emperor also, in uniform, and wearing those long German sabres that hang
loose and make a great clatter. They all rode at a gallop and set all
the horses in the Row by the ears. I really had some trouble with my
quiet animal, who was jumping and kicking all over the place. I had
several visits at tea-time. My windows and balconies giving on the Park
are most attractive, as there are quantities of people about--a sort of
general excitement in the air, and royal carriages and soldiers passing
all the time. D'Estournelles came in and told me about the review. He
said the troops looked splendid, but the arrangements were very bad--no
seats reserved--he and his wife and many ladies standing all the time.
Mme. d'Estournelles was dead tired and had gone home to bed. W. came
back for dinner; he looks grave and sad. We sat on the balcony after
dinner while he smoked. He said he must go to the luncheon at Hatfield
for the Emperor and Empress. As long as he was Ambassador, he had no
right to let any private grief prevent his taking part in a public
function, particularly in this case, when his absence might be
misconstrued.
Sunday, July 18th.
I went this afternoon to consult some of my colleagues about my dress
for Hatfield. Of course I am in deep mourning, and I didn't know if I
could meet Royalties in black. At some Courts, Russia for instance,
black is not allowed--when people are in mourning they wear white. After
various consultations, I decided that I would go in my black dress; so I
have had some lace put on top of the flounce of "crepon de laine," which
is really very deep mourning.
_To H. L. K._
Tuesday, July 19, 1891.