"I recollect what your Majesty wrote on the photograph you gave
Monsieur Crispi."
"Really? What was it? I don't remember."
"You wrote: '_Gentilhomme, gentilhomme; corsaire, corsaire et demi_'."
"What a good memory you have!" he said, and added, very kindly, "I am
very glad to have you and your husband here, and I hope you will like
Berlin. But"--holding a finger warningly--"don't look for many
Lohengrins."
In case, my dear, you don't understand this, I will tell you what it
means: If you are nice to me I will be equally nice to you, _but_ if
you are horrid I will (pokerly speaking) see you and go you one
better.
BERLIN, _January, 1903_.
Dear ----,--Every diplomatic lady has a reception-day. Mine is
Thursday. Last Thursday there were one hundred and sixty people.
My first receptions in January were very perplexing, because so many
people came whom I did not know and who did not know me. Our two
secretaries, Frederikke and I have a code of signals which help me
over many a rough place. Visitors leave their cards in the
antechamber. The secretary stands in the first _salon_ and waves them
into the large _salon_ where I am. If I raise my eyebrows the
secretary knows that I depend upon him to find out who the person is,
and the name, if possible. He, therefore, gets the card and shows it
to me by some magical twist. Sometimes he manages to whisper the name.
Often I fail to grasp either the whisper or the card; then I am lost,
and flounder hopelessly about without bearings of any kind, asking
leading-questions, cautiously feeling my way, not knowing whether I am
talking to a person of great importance or the contrary. When at last
my extreme wariness and diplomacy get hold of a clue, then I swim
along beautifully on the top of the wave.
Frederikke helps me by taking odds and ends off my hands and sorting
them out behind her teacups. All the young people flock about her, and
with their laughter and flutterings add a gay note to the official
element around me.
The Emperor desires that all his officers should be accustomed to
society, and they receive orders to make afternoon visits, which they
do--poor things--I suppose, much to their distaste. As no one knows
them and they do not know any one, it must be very awkward for them.
They come six at a time, leave a package of cards in the antechamber,
present themselves, and each other. They click their heels, kiss the
hand of the hostess, give a hopeless glance about them, move in a body
toward the tea-table, return, and go through the same ceremony, and
leave together, making a great clinking of swords and leaving an odor
of perfumed pomade.
BERLIN, _January, 1903_.
Dear L.,--I have been to my first court ball here, I will describe
this one to you, and never again.
The invitation we received was very large. It told us that we were
invited by order of his Majesty, King and Emperor, to appear at the
Königlicheschloss, Thursday, at eight. We were accompanied, as usual,
by the policeman on horseback. It amused me, while we were waiting in
the carriage, to see standing before one of the entrances to the
palace a whole line of soldiers with _serviettes_ hung over their
shoulders. They were there for the purpose of washing the dishes after
the supper.
As I have said before, the _Wendel treppe_ is very high and tiresome
to mount. We found the hall of the _corps de garde_ filled with
youthful pages whose ages are anywhere from fifteen to twenty. They
were dressed in red coats, with large frills of lace, held in place by
their mothers' best diamond brooch, and neat little low shoes with
buckles and neat little white silk legs.
I glided along the polished floor through the different rooms, which
were empty, save for the numerous chamberlains. All had papers and
diagrams in their hands, and they told the gentlemen as they passed
who they were to take in to supper, and the name of the supper-room.
Each room has a name, like "Marine Room," "Black Eagle Room," and so
forth.
The long gallery was filled with officers, whose uniforms were of
every imaginable color and description, and gentlemen who looked as if
they had just stepped out of a picture-frame. They wear their calling
on their sleeves, as it were. The Academician has a different costume
from the judge. I noticed a clergyman in his priestly robes, his
Elizabethan ruff around his neck, his breast covered with decorations.
He was sipping a glass of hot punch and smiling benignly about him. He
had a most kind and sympathetic face. I would like to confess my sins
to him, but just now I don't happen to have any to confess.
Tea was passed about while we were waiting to enter the ballroom. In
the _Weissesaal_ the _Corps Diplomatique_ has a raised platform
reserved for it on the right of the throne where we ladies, beginning
with the ambassadress, stand, following precedence. On the other side
are all the princesses of the German nobility. I was shown to my place
on the platform.
When the two thousand people collected in this room raised their
voices a little more than was seemly, the master of ceremonies pounded
his stick on the floor--_there was to be no loud talking_--silence
reigned a moment, and then the unruly guests burst out again, and were
again reduced to silence by another and more ominous thump. The
orchestra began the march of "Tannhaüser." This was the signal for
the entrance of the sovereigns. No one dared to breathe. People
straightened themselves up, the ladies stepped down from their
platform. From the middle arcades the young pages--twenty-four in
number--entered in pairs. Then came the Oberhof Marshal alone,
followed by the four greatest personages in Berlin, the Duke Trachenberg,
Prince Fürstenberg, Prince Hohenlohe, and Prince Solms-Baruth. After
them came the Emperor with the Empress on his arm. Every one bowed.
They were followed by the five sons of the Emperor--the Crown Prince,
Prince Adalbert, Prince Eitel Fritz, Prince August Wilhelm, and Prince
Joachim; then all the princes and princesses of the house of Prussia.
[Illustration: THE THRONE-ROOM OF THE ROYAL PALACE, BERLIN]
It was a very imposing sight as they all marched in. When the Emperor
and the Empress reached the throne they made a stately bow to each
other and separated, the Empress turning to the _doyenne_ (the first
ambassadress) and the Emperor crossing to the Ambassadors. Each _chef
de mission_ stood in front of his secretaries and presented them.
My place was between the wives of the Swedish and the Brazilian
Ministers. My neighbor was very unhappy because she was not able to
use her eyeglasses. Eye-glasses are one of the things that are not
allowed, nor are such things as boas or lace wraps.
The Empress spoke to all the ladies in either German, French, or
English. She was accompanied by the _grande maîtresse_, who stood
near.
Right behind the Emperor are two gentlemen who are always within
speaking distance. The first is the tallest young man to be found. He
wears a red uniform, white knee-breeches, very high boots, a
breastplate representing a brilliant rising sun, and a high blazing
helmet surmounted by a silver eagle. This makes him the most
conspicuous person in the room, so that you may always know where the
Emperor is by seeing the young officer's towering helmet above the
crowd. The other is General Scholl, a dear, kind old gentleman, who is
dressed in the costume of Frederick the Great's time, with a white
wig, the pigtail of which is tied with black ribbon, a huge jabot of
lace with a diamond pin on his breast.
All the other court persons wear dark blue dress-coats, with gold
buttons, and carry in one hand the awe-inspiring stick, and in the
other the list for the suppers. Some of them are rather vain about
their legs, and stand profile-wise so that they can be admired. They
do look very well turned out, I must say, with their silk stockings
and low buckled shoes.
The ladies of the _Corps Diplomatique_ are not always as observant of
court rules as they ought to be, and their _décolletage_ is not always
impeccable. If Worth sends a corsage with the fashionable cut--what do
they do? They manage, when they stand on their platform _en vue_, to
slip their shoulders out, thereby leaving a tell-tale red mark, only
to slip the shoulders in place when royalty has its back turned.
The Empress was followed by a second tall young officer. He wore a red
uniform and a hat with a high red feather, easily seen from a
distance. Countess Brockdorf, to distinguish her from other ladies,
wears a long black mantilla on her head and looks like a _duègne à
l'Espagnole_. The other ladies of honor stand near the Empress in the
background. I forgot to say that the wives of foreign Ministers have
_fauteuils_ on their platform, behind which stand their secretaries'
wives.
The ball was opened by the Crown Prince, who danced with the youngest
_demoiselle d'honneur_, then the other princely couples joined. None
but the princes have the privilege of dancing at first. The _valse a
deux temps_ only is permitted. The court likes better the
old-fashioned method of revolving in circles round and round the room,
but occasionally it permits the lancers.
The young ladies and gentlemen, who had been practising their dancing
for weeks, began their gavotte. The ancient _ballet-danseuse_ sat up
under an arch in the ceiling, and held up a warning finger if any
mistake happened. The dances they learn are gavottes and minuets,
which are very ingeniously arranged. Some of the officers looked
rather awkward when they had to point their toes or gaze in the eyes
of their partners. During one of these dances the Empress went off
into the gallery, next to the ballroom, and ladies new to the court
were brought up and presented to her.
Princess Henry and Princess Leopold then made the tour of the guests.
Each time a royal person came to speak to us we were obliged to
descend from our platform, in order to be on the same level. The
Emperor talked with all the ladies. To me he spoke in English, which,
of course, he speaks perfectly. He was dressed in a Hussar uniform,
and held his casque in his left hand, and offered his right. He showed
me a new decoration he had just received from the Sultan. He pointed
out the splendid diamonds, and seemed very pleased with it.
A _Vortänzer_ (the leader of the dance) is chosen in the beginning of
the season. His duty is to arrange all balls and lead all cotillions
that are given by society during the winter. He gives advice,
indicates the officers who dance well--in fact, arranges everything.
The young people pass three delightful flirtatious weeks learning
these gavottes and minuets. Many a happy couple date their bliss from
those dancing-lessons.
As I knew who was to take me in to supper, I waited in my place until
my partner, the Minister of Justice, came to fetch me. I was very
happy to be portioned off to such a charming gentleman. We were told
to go in the Marine Room, where were the Emperor and the Empress. Each
Prince had a table for twelve, over which he presided. At ours was
Prince Adalbert, the Emperor's naval son. A supper for two thousand
guests sounds rather formidable, does it not? With a slight difference
in favor of the first three rooms, the same supper is served to all. A
supper here is just like a dinner, beginning with soup, two warm
dishes, an entrée, dessert, fruit, and coffee.
On our return to the ballroom there was some more dancing. The last
dance was the prettiest of them all. Their Majesties took their places
on the throne, stood watching with a pleased smile the procession of
dancers who came in, four pairs at a time, from the last door of the
ballroom. In each group the four officers belonged to the same
regiment. First they danced a gavotte, and then twirled off in a
waltz. Then the other four couples came in. There were forty or fifty
couples altogether. When they had all entered they formed a fan-shaped
line and advanced toward their Majesties, making the deepest of
courtesies. Then they spread out and made a large circle. The Emperor
and the Empress bowed their thanks, and the dancers retired, and the
orchestra sounded a fanfare. The ball was over. The Emperor offered
his arm to the Empress, and all the Princes followed in the same order
in which they had entered. As we went through the long gallery
servants handed glasses of hot punch about, which were very acceptable
before going out in the cold air. I happened to glance in the open
door of a room we passed and saw a Mont Blanc of _serviettes_ piled up
to the ceiling, and next to that room was a regiment of soldiers
wiping plates.
After the _Schleppenkur_ and before the Kaiser's birthday comes the
_Ordens Fest_. It is a yearly entertainment the Emperor gives to those
who have received the Prussian Order of the Red Eagle, the highest in
rank of the elder members, and all the newly made. Johan has just
received the decoration.
Here every one sees all sorts of people, from cab-drivers to princes.
There is a luncheon for two thousand guests. The Emperor and the
Empress walk about and talk to as many as they can. The other evening
we went to the Winter Garden, and the head waiter said to Johan, "I
have not seen you for a long time, your Excellency--not since we
lunched together at the _Schloss_ at the _Or dens Fest_."