Illustration: The Emperor Crowning the Empress Church de l'AssomptionThe Emperor Crowning the Empress Church de l'Assomption
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 Général Pittié 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 courseallcouldn'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 tohave 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 RobesEmpress Marie in her Coronation Robes
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 soupière 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-à-nu. There was always a collection of officials, chamberlains, pages, etc., bringing up the rear of the cortége, so that at each entrée a little procession appeared. We saw three dishes brought in with the same ceremony—the fish was so large on a large silver dish thattwoMasters of Ceremonies held that.
It was really a wonderful sight, like a picture in some old history of the Moyen Age. As soonasthe 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 havebeen if any member ofhisEmbassy 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, butthe 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.
Madame Hubert talks so much she can hardly get me my things. She is as much pleased with her husband's appearance as I am with mine. What an experience for them, when you think that she had never been out of Villers-Cotterets and Bourneville when she came to us, and Paris seemed a Paradise.
Ambassade de France à Moscou,Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska,Monday, May 28th, 1883.
We were all again in Court dress at 11 this morning to go to the Palace and present our felicitations to the Imperial couple. I wore the same blue dress, as my pink one goes on to-night for the "courtag" at the Palace. It seems there was some misunderstanding about our being received this morning, so some of our colleagues had come, and gone, rather put out at the vagueness of the instructions. We decided to remain, as we had arrived there in all our finery, particularly as one of the chamberlains told us it would be most interesting. Deputations from the provinces were to present addresses of felicitation and we would see all the national costumes.
As we had some time to wait, the Greek chamberlain suggested that we should take advantage of that opportunity to be presented to the Queen of Greece. He thought he could arrange it, so he went off to her rooms, and presently reappeared with the maid of honour, Mlle. Colocotroni (a friend of Gertrude's), and we were taken at once to the Queen, who was standing ina small salon overlooking the river. She is young and handsome, fair, stoutish, but tall enough to carry it off well, and was chatty and sympathetic—said she supposed I was quite tired after yesterday, that it was certainly very trying; that the person who was the least tired was the Empress. She had met her in one of the corridors in the interval between the ceremony at the church, or rather the churches (as she went to three after leaving the Assomption). She had taken off her Imperial mantle and crown, and was going to see one of her numerous relations before beginning again.
As soon as our audience was over we returned to the large audience hall, where we found Benckendorff tearing his hair, in a wild state, because we were late—all our colleagues had taken their places. However we were in time, and ranged ourselves, the ladies all together on the right, the men opposite. I was the Doyenne, and stood at the head of the column (as neither Lady Thornton nor Mdme. Schweinitz was there). All about the room were groups of people from the provinces waiting their turn, but there was such a crowd of uniforms and costumes that one could hardly distinguish anything.
Presently the Court appeared—the Emperor always in uniform, the Empress in a very handsome train, blue velvet, embroidered in gold, and a splendid tiara, necklace and front of sapphires. They had the usual train of Princes, chamberlains, aides-de-camp, etc. As soon as they had taken their places on the platform all the Missions (men) advanced according to their rank. The Ambassador made a few steps forward, said a few words of felicitation to the Emperor (the Mission remaining at a respectful distance behind), then made a low bow, and all retired à reculons.
The Austrian Embassy looked very well—the Hungarianuniforms are so handsome. The Americans also very well, though they have no uniform, wear ordinary black evening clothes. The Admiral and his two aides-de-camp of course wore theirs, but it is so quiet, dark blue with little lace, and no orders, that one would hardly have remarked it except for the epaulettes and aiguillettes.
As soon as all the men of the Corps Diplomatique had passed the Empress left her place and came to us. Her train was carried by 4 pages, a high official, red velvet and gold lace, carrying the extreme end. She passed down the line of ladies, saying something to each one. I heard her speak three languages—English, French, and German—quite easily.
We waited until the Court retired, and then there was the usual stampede for the carriages. I have not been out again this afternoon. We start for our Court ball at 8.45, and of course dine early. I was interrupted by Philippe, who came to coiffer me, having as usual stopped in the lingerie to inspect my dress, the pink one this time. He tells me he began to dress some of the heads for to-night at 12 this morning.
Ambassade de France à Moscou,Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska,Mardi, 29 Mai, 1883.
I will begin my letter while I am waiting to go with some of the gentlemen and Benckendorff to see the preparations for the great people's fête. I couldn't write last night, I was so tired out. Two court dresses and functions, and hours of standing is a good deal for one day. We started early, at a quarter to 9. We assembledin the same room in the old Kremlin where the Imperial couple had dined this afternoon. Almost all our colleagues and some of the swell Russians were already there, and everyone moved about, talking and looking until the welcome strains of the march told us the Emperor and Empress were coming.
One of the chamberlains showed me some of the most curious old bowls and flagons. The work is rather rough, and the stones enormous—not well cut—but the effect is good, half barbaric. The Court appeared always with the same brilliant suite—the Empress looked charming in a pink velvet train, embroidered in silver. All the Grand Duchesses in drap d'argent, bordered with beautiful black sable.
As soon as the Court arrived the polonaise began; the Emperor making the first with Queen of Greece, the Empress with Schweinitz. It was a charming sight. All the trains were étalées their full length. The gentleman takes his partner's hand, holding it very high, and they make a stately progress through the rooms. I didn't dance the first one. We had a very good view of the whole thing. It was a beautiful sight—the men all in uniform, with orders, and broad ribbons; and the women with their trains down the full length. The Russian trains, of white and silver bordered with fur, made a great effect.
The Emperor danced (which is a façon de parler only, as one walked through the rooms) with the Queen of Greece, Arch Duchess Charles Louis, and the Ambassadrices Lady Thornton, Mdme. Jaurès, Countess Dudzeele, and me—the Empress with the 6 Ambassadors. I danced the second polonaise with the Grand Duke Wladimir, who is handsome and spirited looking. He told me who many of the people were. In one of therooms were all the Russian women, not in costume, but in ordinary ball dress, all, however, wearing the Kakoshnik studded with jewels, and most becoming it was.
I was much interested (before my turn came) to see how the ladies got back to their places after having been deposited by the Emperor in the middle of the room. He doesn't conduct his partner back as all the others do. He goes back to his own place, the lady makes a curtsey, and gets back to hers across the room backwards as well as she can. They seemed to get through all right. I rather enjoyed my polonaise with the Emperor. He showed me quantities of people—a splendid man from some part of Asia dressed in white, with jewels, coloured stones mostly, all down the front of his coat, and pistols in his belt with jewelled hilts. Also the Khan of Khiva, with all the front of his high fur cap covered with jewels, also his belt, which seemed made entirely of diamonds and rubies.
The music was always the march from Glinka's opera; each band in turn taking it up as the cortége passed through the rooms. The last Polonaise finished about 11.30, and the Court immediately retired. We had no refreshments of any kind, and made the same rush for the carriages.
Our rentrée to the Embassy is most amusing—the whole Mission precedes us, and when we arrive we find them ranged in a semicircle at the foot of the staircase, waiting to receive us. Richard says he never understood the gulf that separates an Ambassador Extraordinary from ordinary mortals until he accompanied his brother to Moscow.
5 o'clock.
We had rather an interesting afternoon. We met one of the committee at the place, sort of great plain, or meadow, where the Fête Populaire is to be, near the Petrofski Palace, where the Emperor stayed before he made his public entrée into Moscow, who showed us everything. There are quantities of little sheds or baraques, where everybody (and there will be thousands, he tells us) will receive a basket with a meat pâté, a pâté of confitures, a cake, and a package of bonbons. There are also great barrels of beer, where everyone can go with a mug and drink as much as he can hold.
We asked M. (I forget his name) how it was possible to take precautions with such a crowd of people, but he said they anticipated no danger, it was the "people's day," which sounded to us rather optimistic. It was rather nice driving about.
Now I have just been, at the request of Lhermite, to look at his table, as we have our first big dinner to-night (all Russians); all the flowers, "Roses de France," have just arrived from Paris—three nights on the road; they look quite fresh and beautiful,—were packed alone in large hampers. I shall wear my blue tulle ball-dress to-night, as we go to the ball at the Governor's Palace after dinner.
Wednesday, 30th.
Our dinner was pleasant last night. As it was entirely Russian we had the curious meal they all take just before dinner. A table was spread in the small salon opening into the dining-room, with smoked and salted fish, caviare, cucumbers, anchovies, etc. They all partook, and then we passed into the dining-room, where the real business began. I sat between M. de Giers, ForeignMinister, and Count Worontzoff, Ministre de la Cour. They were very pleasant, and rather amusing over the exigencies of the suites of the foreign Princes; the smaller the Power the more important the chamberlains, equerries, etc.—rather like our own experience the year of the Exhibition in Paris, where a Baden equerry, I think, was forgotten (which of course was most improper at the Quai d'Orsay), and most delicate negotiations were necessary. Both gentlemen were very complimentary over the dinner and the flowers—asked where in Moscow we had been able to find them, and could hardly believe they had arrived this morning, three nights and three days on the road. They were beautiful, those lovely pink "Roses de France," which looked quite charming with the dark blue Sèvres china.
The guests went off about 10; and we half an hour later to the great ball. I wore my light blue tulle with silver braid; and I will add that I left the greater part of the tulle at the Palace. Happily the silk under-skirt was strong, or else I should have stood in my petticoats. The crowd and heat was something awful—the staircase was a regular bousculade, and I was thankful those big Russian spurs merely tore my flounces, and didn't penetrate any further. We finally arrived, struggling and already exhausted, in the ballroom, where we found all the Grand Dukes and Grand Duchesses already assembled to receive the Emperor.
We had some little time to wait, so they all came over and talked to us. The Queen of Greece is most attractive—so simple. She noticed that my dress was torn and flowers crushed, but said, what was quite true, that no one would remark it in the crowd. We soon heard the sound of the March, and then there was such a rush towards the door by which the Emperor and Empresswere to enter that we quickly withdrew into the embrasure of the window, and let the torrent pass. They tried to make a circle, but it was impossible. The crowd was dense. W. and I made our way quickly to the head of the stairs and waited there, as they had told us the Emperor would not stay long—merely make a tour through the rooms.
They appeared very soon, shook hands with us both, and seemed very glad to get away. The Empress was in light blue, with a beautiful diamond tiara. It is rather pretty to see the Grand Duke Wladimiralwaysclose to his brother, to shield him from any danger. We were all rather cross when we got home.
This morning I have been shopping with W., Richard, and Pontécoulant. It is rather an unsatisfactory performance, as we can't either speak or understand Russian. In the bazaars and real Moscow shops they know nothing but Russian. We take the little polygot boy with us (always ahead in his little droshky) but as he invariably announces "la grande Ambassade" weseethe prices go up. Some of the enamel and gold and silver work is beautiful. Richard was quite fascinated with the Madonnas, with their black faces and wands, set in a handsome frame of gold, with light blue enamel. He bought two, one for Louise and one for me, which I am delighted to have. We bought various little boxes, some of lacquer, others in silver, rather prettily worked, and a variety of fancy spoons, buckles, etc.
I must stop now and dress. We dine at 6, so as to be at the Opéra at 9. We shall go "en gala," our three carriages, as it is a fine warm night. The detective is a little anxious for to-night (it would be such a good opportunity to get rid of all the Russian Princes, to say nothing of the foreigners). He and Pontécoulant suggestedto W. that I should be left at home, but I protested vigorously. If they all go, I am going too. I don't feel very nervous, I wonder why; for it really is a little uncomfortable—unusual to hesitate about going to the Opéra because one might be blown up.
Jeudi, May 31st, 1883.
I was too tired to write last night, though the opera was over fairly early. It was a beautiful sight, the house brilliantly lighted and crowded, nothing but uniforms, orders, and jewels. There was one dark box, which of course attracted much attention; the Americans—all the men in black, except the three naval officers—(we were acclamés all along the route, and I must say Leroy and Hubert looked very well in their tricornes and powdered wigs). I wore the crème embroidered velvet with blue satin front, tiara, and blue feathers in my hair. I fancy Philippe had made a sort of tower on the top of my head, but he again assured me I must have a "coiffure de circonstance."
The square before the Opéra was brilliantly lighted (they certainly light most beautifully in Russia—thousands of candles everywhere), a red carpet down, and quantities of palms and flowers—always also quantities of gilded gentlemen. We didn't wait very long for the Court to appear—about a quarter of an hour—and were much taken up looking at everything, and everybody, and trying to recognize our friends. A large box at one end of the house, opposite the stage, was reserved for the Royalties, all draped of course in red and gold.
Everyone rose when the Emperor and Empress arrived, always with their brilliant cortége of Princes. Oneof the most striking uniforms was the Prince of Montenegro's, but they all made a fine show, and a most effective background for the women—the orchestra playing the Russian Hymn, the chorus singing it, all the house applauding, and all eyes fixed on the Royal box.
It was really magnificent, and the Emperor looked pleased. They gave the first act of Glinka's opera "La Vie pour le Czar." When the curtain fell the whole house rose again; when the Emperor and Empress left their box there was a general movement among the people, and some of our colleagues had come to pay us a visit when Count Worontzoff (Ministre de la Cour) appeared and said, "Sa Majesté" hoped we would come and have tea with her, and he would have the honour of showing us the way; so he gave me his arm and took me to the foyer, which was very well arranged with flowers, plants, and red carpets.
There were several round tables. He took me to the Empress' table, where were the Queen of Greece, Grand Duchesses Constantine and Wladimir, Lady Thornton, and Madame Jaurès; also Nigra, Schweinitz, and a brother of the Shah de Perse. The Empress looked so young, in white, with a broad red ribbon, and splendid diamonds. The Queen of Greece was charming, asked me if I ever found time to write to Francis. The Emperor didn't sit down—he walked about between the tables, and talked to everybody.
We stayed, I should think, about half an hour at the tea-table, and then went back to the theatre. The ballet was long, but interesting, all the mazurkas of the Empire were danced in costume. We got our carriages easily enough, and the arrangements were good. The younger members of the Mission who didn't go for tea with the Empress found the entr'acte long.
Saturday, June 2d.
I couldn't write yesterday, Dear, for I was in bed until dinner-time, thoroughly tired out. Neither W. nor I went to the ball on Thursday night given by the "Noblesse de Moscou." I hoped to be able to go to the ball of the German Embassy last night, but I couldn't do that either. I felt rather better about 6 o'clock, and sent for my dress, as W. particularly wanted me to go, but the minute I stood up and tried to dress I was half fainting, so there was no use persisting.
The fatigue has been something awful, and the hours of standing have made it impossible to put on my Paris shoes, and I have been obliged to buy white satinboatsat one of the Moscow shoemakers. The bootmakers will make his fortune, as it seems everybody is in the same state. The Empress even can't wear her usual shoes, and all the women have left off coquettish little shoes that match their dresses, and taken to these rather primitive chaussures.
W. and all the gentlemen went to the ball, and said it was very handsome—everything, silver, supper, servants, etc., had been sent from Berlin. Madame Schweinitz, who has a young baby, arrived from Petersburg the morning of the ball. Count Eulenbourg—one of the German Emperor's Maîtres des Cérémonies—had also arrived to decide about the questions of precedence, place, etc. The Court remained to supper, so of course the Ambassadors were obliged to stay. W. got home at 2 o'clock, very late for this country, where everything begins early.
Richard and Pontécoulant are getting great friends. Pontécoulant blagues[5]him all the time—says he is getting a perfect courtier, and that his electors in the SeineInférieure would be scandalized if they could see him. I must dress now for the "Fête Populaire," and will write more when I get back.
9 o'clock.
I have retired to my own quarters. W. dines with Nigra, so I have remained in my dressing-room, as I have still a "fond de fatigue." The Fête Populaire was interesting. The day has been beautiful, and there was not a hitch of any kind. The drive out was interesting, on account of the people, a steady stream of peasants of all ages going the same way. We went at once to the Loge Impériale, a large pavilion erected at the entrance facing the great plain. The space was so enormous that one hardly distinguished anything. The booths and towers looked like little spots, and they were very far off. The Emperor and Empress never left the Loge. He certainly didn't go down and walk about among the people, as some enthusiastic gentlemen had told us he would. Of course all the same people were assembled in the Loge—Diplomatists, Court officials, officers, etc. There was a cold lunch always going on.
There were many white dresses—all Russian women wear white a great deal at any age. The Princess Kotchoubey—78 years old—who put the Imperial mantle on the Empress the day of the sacre, and who had done the same thing for the late Empress, was dressed entirely in white, bonnet, mantle, everything.
The Court remained about an hour, and we left as soon as they did. There was some little delay getting our carriages, but on the whole the thing was well managed. Already some people were coming away looking very smiling, and carrying their baskets most carefully. I will bring you one of the mugs they gave me with the chiffre of the Emperor and Empress, and the date.
Sunday, June 3d.
I stayed at home all the morning, quite pleased to have nothing to do. This afternoon W., Pontécoulant, and I went for a little turn. We got out of the carriage at the Kremlin, and walked about, having a quiet look at everything. The view from the terrace was enchanting, the afternoon sun lighting up all the curious old buildings, and bringing out the colours of everything.
This evening we have had a diplomatic dinner. I was between Schweinitz and Sir Edward Thornton. Both of them talked a great deal. After dinner I talked some time to Hunt, whom I like very much. He says many people, Russians particularly, couldn't understand why he didn't wear his uniform—"ce n'est pas très poli pour nous." They can't conceive that the representative of a great Power shouldn't be attired in velvet and gold like all the rest of the Embassies.
The table was again covered with pink roses. They just last through the dinner, and fall to pieces as soon as they are taken out of the vases. Some of them looked so fresh, not even in full bloom, that I thought I could send some French roses to Countess Pahlen, and the moment we left the dining-room Lhermite took them off the table, but they fell to pieces in his hands, covering the floor with their petals.
Monday, June 4th.
This morning we have been photographed in the court-yard—the whole establishment, gala carriages, servants, horses, moujiks, maids, cooks, etc. First there was the "classic" group of the Mission, W. and I seated in front, with all the gentlemen standing around us. It was very long getting the poses all right so as to show everybody in an advantageous light; and as it is (judgingfrom the cliché) François de Corcelle looks as if he was throttling me. Then came the group of the whole party, and it was amusing to see how eager the Russian maids and the stable-men were to be well placed. They stood as still as rocks. We waited a little to see the gala carriages and horses taken, but that was too long. The horses were nervous, and never were quiet an instant. Now someone has gone to get a drum—they think the sudden noise may make them all look in the same direction for a moment.
W. and I have been out for a turn—to the Kremlin of course, which is really the most interesting part of Moscow. There is always the same crowd hurrying and jostling each other. We went all over St. Basile. The inside is curious, with a succession of rooms and dark recesses, but the outside is unique; such an agglomeration of domes, steeples, bell-towers; all absolutely different in shape and colour—perfectly barbarous, but very striking.
W. enjoys our quiet afternoon drives, the perpetual representation, seeing always the same people, and saying and hearing the same things, is beginning to tire him. It is a curious life. We see nothing but the Court and the people—no haute bourgeoisie nor intermediate class, and yet they exist, people in finance and commercial affairs. They certainly have had no part in the show—I should think there must be great discontent. The young generation certainly will never be satisfied to be kept entirely out of everything. Some of them have travelled, been educated in England, have handsome houses, English horses, etc., but apparently they don't exist—at least we have never seen any.
I must stop, as we dress and dine early for the Palace Ball. My Dear, my dress is frightfully green (Delannoy'sgreen velvet coat over pink tulle). Of course we chose it by candle-light, when it looked charming; but as we dress and start by daylight I am rather anxious. I consulted Pontécoulant, who came in just as the maids were bringing it in. He said, "C'est bien vert, Madame." Let us hope that the light of thousands of wax candles may have a subduing effect.
Ambassade de France, Moscow,Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska,June 5, 1883.
The Palace ball was quite beautiful last night. I had some misgivings as to my dress until we got to the Palace, as the gentlemen of the Embassy had evidently found mevery greenwhen we assembled in the great hall before starting; however as soon as we arrived in the big room of the Palace where we were all marshalled, Countess Linden (an American born) said to me at once "Oh, Mdme. Waddington, how lovely your pink roses look on thedark bluevelvet," so I knew it was all right. I wore that dress of Delannoy's which she was sure would be most effective—pink tulle skirts—with a green velvet habit (chosen of course by candle-light) so that it did look very green by daylight, and a wreath of pink roses round the décolleté. I remember both Henrietta and Pauline were a little doubtful—but it certainly made more effect than any dress I wore except the blue manteau de cour. I will tell Delannoy. We always go in by a special side entrance to these Palace functions, which is a pity, as we miss the grand staircase, which they told us was splendid with red carpets, soldiers, and gold-laced gentlemen to-night. We waited some time, an hour certainly, before the Court came, but as all theCorps Diplomatique were assembled there it was pleasant enough, and we all compared our experiences and our fatigue, for everybody was dead tired—the men more than the women.
The rooms are magnificent—very high, and entirely lighted by wax candles—thousands; one of the chamberlains told me how many, but I would scarcely dare to say. The Court arrived with the usual ceremony and always the same brilliant suite of officers and foreign Princes. The Emperor and Empress looked very smiling, and not at all tired. She was in white, with splendid diamonds and the broad blue ribbon of St. André. He always in uniform. As soon as they appeared the polonaises began, this time three only, which the Emperor danced with the ladies of the family. I danced the first with the Grand Duke Wladimir. He is charming and amiable, but has a stern face when he isn't smiling. I think if the Russians ever feel his hand it will be a heavy one. I danced the second with the Grand Duke Alexis, and looked on at the third. It was not nearly so fine a sight as the Court ball at the old palace.Therethe mixture of modern life and dress and half barbaric costumes and ornamentations was so striking; also the trains made such an effect, being all étaléd one was obliged to keep a certain distance, and that gave a stately air to the whole thing which was wanting last night when all the women were in ordinary ball dress, not particularly long, so that the cortége was rather crowded and one saw merely a mass of jewelled heads (the dress was lost). Also they merely walked around the ballroom, not going through all the rooms as we did at the old palace.
When the polonaises were over there were one or two waltzes. The Empress made several turns, but with the Princes only, and we stood and looked on.
While we were waiting there until someone should come and get us for some new function I heard a sort of scuffle behind me and a woman's impatient voice saying in English "I can't bear it another moment," and a sound of something falling or rolling across the floor. I turned round and saw Mdme. A—— (a secretary's wife, also an American) apparently struggling with something, and very flushed and excited. I said, "What is the matter?" "I am kicking off my shoes." "But you can never put them on again." "I don't care if I never see them again—I can't stand them another minute." "But you have to walk in a cortége to supper with the Imperial party." "I don't care at all, I shall walk in my stockings," then came another little kick, and the slipper disappeared, rolling underneath a heavy damask curtain. I quite sympathized with her, as my beautiful white slippers (Moscow manufacture) were not altogether comfortable, but I think I should not have had the strength of mind to discard them entirely. When I was dressing, Adelaide tried to persuade me that I had better put on the pink satin slippers that matched my dress; but my experience of the hours of standing at all Russian Court functions had at least taught me not to start with anything that was at all tight.
While we were looking at the dancing the Grand Duke Michel came over and asked me if I wouldn't come and stand a little with the Grand Duchesses. He took me to a little group where were the Grand Duchesses Michel and Constantine and the Queen of Greece (she is always so gay and natural). They at once asked me who had made my dress, and what color it was. They had been talking about it, and couldn't agree. The Grand Duchess Constantine had on her emeralds, and beautiful they were—blocks of stone, rather difficult to wear. She must havebeen very handsome, has still a beautiful figure, and holds herself splendidly.
We talked music a little—she said I ought to hear some of the people's songs. I should like to very much, but there doesn't seem any place where one can hear the national songs. The men of the Embassy went one night to the "Hermitage," where there was a little of everything, and did hear some of the peasants singing their national airs, but they didn't seem to think I could go. While we were still talking there was a move, and they said the Empress (who had been dancing all the time in a small circle made for her at her end of the ballroom and very strictly kept) was going to have tea. All the Court and suite followed, and I was rather wondering how to get back to my place and my colleagues when a tall aide-de-camp came up and said he would have the honour of conducting me to Her Majesty's tea—so we started off across several rooms and corridors, which were crowded, and arrived at a door where the two gigantic negroes were standing. He said something—the doors flew open—he made me a low bow and retired (as he couldn't come any farther), and I found myself standing alone in a large room with four or five tables—everyone seated. For a moment I didn't know quite what to do, and felt rather shy, but the Princess Kotchoubey, Grande Maîtresse, who was standing in the middle of the room, came forward at once and took me to the Duchesse d'Edimbourg's table, where there were also the Arch-Duchess Charles Louis, the Duchess of Oldenburg, a young Hessian Prince, and my two colleagues, Lady Thornton and Madame Jaurès.
We had tea and ices—didn't talk much, except the Duchess of Edinburgh, who seems clever and ready to talk—but I wasn't near her. I didn't see all the Ambassadors,mine certainly wasn't there, and of course very few comparatively of our colleagues, as only Ambassadors and their wives were invited to Her Majesty's tea (no small fry, like Ministers).
I had the explanation of W.'s absence later. When the Court moved off to tea General Wolseley suggested that W. should come and smoke a cigar in his room. He was lodged at the Kremlin with his Prince, the Duke of Edinburgh. He, like a true Briton, had enough of bowing and standing. W. was naturally quite of the same opinion, so they picked up Admiral Seymour (also with the Duke of Edinburgh) and had a very pleasant hour smoking and talking until they were summoned for supper.Thatthey couldn't get out of, as we made a fine procession directly behind the Court through all the rooms to St. George's Hall—a great white high room magnificently lighted, with tablets all around the walls with the names of the Knights of the Order of St. George who had died in battle, and a souper assis for 800 people. Sir Edward Thornton, British Ambassador, took me. As we were parading through the rooms between two hedges of gaping people looking at the cortége, dresses, diamonds, etc., I thought of Mdme. A—— and her stockings, and wondered how she was getting on. I daresay quite well; as she had a yellow satin dress and yellow silk stockings perhaps no one noticed anything, and as long as she didn't step on a needle or anything sharp she was all right. Someone will find a nice little pair of yellow satin shoes under the window-curtains in the ballroom when the cleaning up is done after the fêtes.
The hall was a blaze of light and jewels—a long table across the end for the Imperial party, and all of us at two long tables running the whole length of the room. The gold and silver plate was very handsome, particularly themassive flambeaux and high ornaments for the middle of the table. The supper was good, hot, and quickly served. There was music all the time—singers, men and women, in a gallery singing all sorts of Russian airs which nobody listened to. The Emperor did not sit down to supper. He remained standing in the middle of the room talking to his gentlemen, and a few words to the diplomatists when supper was over and one loitered a little before going back to the ballroom. He certainly doesn't care to talk to strangers—seeks them out very little, and when he does talk it is absolutely banal. Is it "paresse d'esprit" or great reserve?—one hardly knows. I should think all this parade and function bored him extremely. They say he is very domestic in his tastes, and what he likes best is the country with his wife and children.
After supper we went back to the ballroom for about half an hour. Then the Court retired and we followed them at once. We got our carriages fairly quickly. There are always crowds in the streets waiting to see the grand-monde pass. The Kremlin looks fairy-like as we drive through—lights everywhere, some high, high up in a queer little octagon green tower—then a great doorway and staircase all lighted, with quantities of servants and soldiers standing about; then a bit of rough pavement in a half dark court and under a little low dark gate with a shrine and Madonna at one end—all so perfectly unmodern, and unlike anything else.
I began my letter this morning before breakfast, but didn't finish, as I was called off by some visits, and now I will try and send this off by to-night's courier. We have had a nice afternoon looking at the Trésor. Of course it was very hurried—it would take weeks to see everything.The collection of state carriages and sleighs is interesting. Almost all the carriages are French—either given to the various Russian Sovereigns by French Kings, or ordered in France by the Sovereigns themselves. The great sledge in which Catharine II. made all her long voyages is comfortable enough, and not unlike the "wagons impériaux" in which we travelled from Varsovie to Moscow.
Then we saw all the Coronation robes, crowns, sapphires, swords, jewelled belts and collars, furs, etc., of all the old Emperors from Ivan the Terrible down to the late Emperor. Some of the crowns of the first Ivans and Peters are extraordinary—a sort of high fur cap covered with jewels, but heavy and roughly made—the jewels always beautiful, such large stones, particularly sapphires and rubies. There were vitrines full of splendid gold and silver cups and dishes, presents to the Emperor from all the different provinces.
They tell us the present Emperor has had magnificent things given to him, but we have not seen them yet. We met various people also going through the Museum, and I had quite a talk with Radziwill (you know which one I mean, who married Countess Malatesta's daughter). It seemed funny to go back to the old Roman days, and the evenings (prima-sera) in the Malatesta Palace. He says everybody is worn out with the ceremonies and the standing—however, to-night is the end, with our dinner at the Palace.
I have again been interrupted—this time by a visit from the Duc d'Aoste, whom I always find charming. He is not at all expansive and very shy, but when one breaks the ice he is interesting. He doesn't look like anybody else, nor as if he belonged to this century. It is quite the face one would see in any old Spanish picture—asoldier-monk of Velasquez. He talked about the Exhibition of '78, when W. was at the Foreign Office, and I was almost tempted to tell him how embarrassed we all were on the opening day when there were so many Ex-Spanish Sovereigns—King François d'Assises, Queen Isabella, and King Amédée. There was a big reception in the evening at the Elysée, and the Maréchal[6]was rather bothered with all his Spanish Royalties. However, Queen Isabella and the Duc d'Aoste were evidently on the best of terms. I saw them talking together, and I believe all the Spaniards liked d'Aoste, though naturally they wanted a King of their own race.
Here is Monsieur Philippe for his last coiffure, as he says somewhat sadly. To-night's dinner is our last function. We have then the revue, by daylight, of course, and leave on Sunday for Petersburg.
Wednesday, June 6th.
The gala dinner was handsome andshortlast night. W. and I went off alone (none but chefs de mission were invited) in the coupé d'Orsay, always with Benckendorff in his carriage in front—W. in uniform, I in my white and silver brocade, white feathers and diamonds in my hair, no colour anywhere, not even on my cheeks, which reduces Philippe to a state of prostrate stupefaction—"Madame qui pourrait être si bien."
We were received at the foot of the staircase and at the doors by all the Chamberlains as usual and taken at once to the same Salle St. George where we were to dine—all at the Imperial table this time—about 500 couverts. We were shown at once our seats—all the places were marked, and we stood waiting behind our chairs (like the footmen) for the Court to appear. I found myselfseated between the Duc d'Aoste and the young Crown Prince of Sweden, so I was quite satisfied. One of my colleagues was very anxious I should change the papers—give her my Duke and take her's, who was never civil to her, but would be perhaps to me, but I demurred, as I knew mine would be nice, and I didn't know her's at all. I don't think he was very nice to her, certainly didn't talk much, but perhaps he never does.
We didn't wait very long. The Court was fairly punctual—the Empress looked very nice, all in white with diamonds. She had on her right the Duc d'Edimbourg (who always had the place of honour), and on her left the Prince Waldemar de Danemark, her brother. The Emperor had the Queen of Greece on his right, the Arch Duchess Charles Louis on his left. The dinner wasn't bad, and was quickly served. The fish were enormous, served on large silver dishes as big as boats. There was always that curious Russian soup with all sorts of nondescript things floating about on the surface. The Duc d'Aoste was as nice as possible—said the Court officials would be enchanted when everything was over, and all the foreign Princes safely back in their own countries, that the question of etiquette was something awful. As soon as the Russian Court decided anything all the others immediately protested—used all sorts of precedents, and complicated matters in every way. I suggested that he himself was difficult to place on account of the Duc de Montpensier, who was here as a Spanish Prince, husband of the Infanta. He replied "Absolument pas—je suis ici comme prince italien, frère du roi," declining any sort of Spanish souvenir.
When dinner was over we passed into the salle St. André for coffee, and that was funny too. As soon as the Emperor and Empress made the move all our Dukes andPrinces got up at once, and joined the Imperial procession, and we followed all in a heap. There we had a pleasant half hour, the Empress and the Grand Duchesses came over and talked to us, hoped we were not tired, that we had been interested, etc. I said to the Grand Duchess Constantine that they must be enchanted to be at the end of their functions, and to get rid of us all—but she said not at all. She herself was much less tired than when she began. She asked me what I had found the most striking in all the ceremonies. I said certainly the Coronation—first the moment when the Emperor crowned himself—the only figure standing on the dais, and afterwards when he crowned the Empress, she kneeling before him.
The Empress asked me if I was going straight back to France, but she didn't say, as so many of the others did, "Ce n'est pas adieu pour vous, Mdme. Waddington, mais au revoir, car vous reviendrez certainement." Admiral Jaurès having already resigned many people think W. will be the next Ambassador, but he certainly won't come.
About 9 the Court retired. We had dined at 7, so the whole thing took about two hours. It was quite light when we came out of the Palace, and when we got back to the Maison Klein we found the Embassy just finishing dinner, still in the dining-room. We sat a few minutes with them telling our experiences. W. had been next to the Grand Duchess Michel, who was very animated and intelligent, and extremely well posted in all literary and political matters, and fairly just for a Princess speaking about a Republic.
Poor Pontécoulant has had a telegram telling him of his brother's death. He is very much upset, and goes off to-night. W. will miss him extremely—he was hisright-hand man. I have been out this morning shopping with François de Courcelle. It isn't easy, as our Russian is not fluent, but still we managed to find a few things.
This afternoon I have been with Lagrené (Consul), Sesmaisons, Corcelle, and Calmon to the great institution of the "Enfants Trouvés" fondée par l'Impératrice Cathérine II. There we found Admiral Jaurès and all his staff, and a director who showed us all over the establishment—of course everything was in perfect order, and perfectly clean (and I believe it always is), but I should have preferred not having our visit announced, so as to see the every-day working of the thing. We went through quantities of rooms. In all, the Russian nurses with their high head-dress (kakoshnik), the colour of the room, were standing, and showed us most smilingly their babies. The rooms are all known by their colours and the nurses dressed to correspond. All pink kakoshniks, for instance, in the pink room, blue in the blue room, etc. It was rather effective when all the women were standing in groups. The nurses were decidedly young, some rather pretty faces, almost all fair. The surveillante is a nice, kindly looking woman. We saw the whole ceremony. In one of the rooms of the rez-de-chaussée we saw several women waiting to take the children. The operation is always the same—one writes down at once the name and age of the child (which is generally written on a piece of paper pinned on to the clothes), they are always very young, 5 or 6 days old. Then they are undressed, weighed, and carried off by one of the nurses, wrapped up in a blanket, to a bath. After the bath they are dressed in quite clean, nice garments, and the nurse gives them the breast at once. All the rooms, dortoirs, salles-debain,laundries, kitchens, are as clean as possible, plenty of light and air, and no smells. We met Countess Pahlen going out as we came in, also the Arch Duke Charles Louis.
As we still had time before dinner we went to see the new church of St. Sauveur, where there is to be a great ceremony of consecration to-morrow; but as it is principally to celebrate the retreat of the French Army from Moscow the two French Embassies abstain from that function. We met there Prince Dolgourouky, Governor of Moscow, who did the honours, and showed us the marbles, which are very varied and handsome, all from the provinces of the Empire. The place was full of workmen putting up tribunes, red and gold draperies, etc., but the Prince, with much tact, made no allusion to to-morrow's function—so we apparently didn't notice anything unusual in the church, and concentrated our attention on the beautiful Russian marble.
11 o'clock.
I will finish to-night. We have had our second diplomatic dinner, and I found it pleasant, I hope the guests did. I had Mgr.[7]Vannutelli, the Nonce, next to me. He is charming—such an easy talker. He arrived after the sacre, as of course he could take no part in the ceremony. He told me the dream of his life was to come to Paris, and I think he would have a great success. He and Prince Orloff talked very easily together, and Orloff told him he ought to come to Paris. Orloff also says that W. ought to come back here as Ambassador, that he would be decidedly a "persona grata," but that isn't W.'s impression. He has talked to a good many men who are about the Court and the Emperor, and he thinks a soldier, not a political man, would be a much betterappointment. We shall miss Pontécoulant awfully. He is so easy-going and looks after everything, always smoothing things over—very necessary in a temporary Embassy like this where all pull apart a little, and there is a sort of dull friction and rivalry between the soldiers and the diplomatists. It is funny to live entirely with a quantity of men, but they are all charming to me.
Ambassade de France, Moscow,Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska,Thursday, June 7th, 1883.
W. and I have had such a quiet conjugal day that we can hardly believe we are still "Ambassadeur Extraordinaire." We breakfasted tête-à-tête, as all the gentlemen have gone off to the Convent of St. Serge, which is one of the things to see here. They have a very fine trésor. The Emperor and Empress made retraite there before the sacre. After breakfast W. looked over his despatches, and I played a little some Russian music which Benckendorff had given me.
About three we started off for "les Moineaux," a hill near Moscow from which Napoleon had his first view of the city. There was no sun, which was a pity, as all the colour of Moscow makes it so original and different from everything else—however the city looked mysterious and poetical in a sort of pink brume. We met various colleagues going the same way—Nigra always in his "Troika" (Russian attelage) and the Hunts. Nigra came and joined us on the terrace, and we had tea together. They offered us a great many things, but we declined experiments, and kept on saying "Tchai" (which means tea), until they brought it. Nigra told W. he shouldtaste the peculiar brandy of the country which all drink—prince and peasant—but I think W. did not like it much. Nigra was most agreeable. He is Italian Ambassador to Petersburg, and knows everybody. He says Russian Society is rather fermée, unless you take their ways and hours. All the ladies receive late, after the theatres, every evening. It is quite informal—a cup of tea, very often music, and really interesting talk. He says the women are remarkably intelligent and cultivated—en masse cleverer than the men. I wonder if he would go as far about them as Lord Lyons did about American women. When he came back from America he said he hadnevermet a stupid American woman. We had a pleasant hour on the terrace, and then started home again.
We crossed the Empress driving with her brother, Prince Waldemar, in an ordinary open carriage (harnessed Russian fashion—the three horses) and with no escort norapparentpolicemen of any kind. She looked very well and smiling, and so young. There was not much movement on the road—a few carriages and peasant's carts. As soon as we got into Moscow we fell at once into the same staring, quiet crowd; but I fancy many people have already gone. The streets were not nearly so full.
I had just time to dress, and dined alone with the gentlemen. W. and Général Pittié dined with the Nonce, Mgr. Vannutelli, and were to go to Countess Pahlen's reception afterwards. The expedition to the Convent seems to have been very successful, but long. They gave them breakfast in the refectory—a very frugal meal—and showed them all their treasures. I stayed a little while in the serre while they were smoking. Now they have all gone out and I am not sorry to finish my eveningquietly in my little boudoir. I am getting quite accustomed to my little room, with its ugly green and gold silk furniture (quite hideous, such a bright, hard green). The chairs and sofa are so heavy it takes two of us to move them. There are quantities of tables and candles (40 or 50 at least, no lamps of any description), in branches, double candlesticks, etc. I have great difficulty in persuading the little Russian maid not to light them all, all the time; and when I have about 12 to dress by she evidently considers me in the dark absolutely. IthinkI have dressed sometimes with two, quite contented, in the old days.
Friday, June 8th.
I walked about a little with Corcelle this morning. We went into one fur shop where we found a woman who spoke French, but there was nothing very tempting. They all advise us to wait for our furs at Petersburg, all the best furs are sent there—however we bought a very good fur lining for a driving coat (each of us) and I a fur couverture—principally I think because the woman was nice, and it was a pleasure to talk ourselves and not through the little boy of the Consulate, of whom I am by no means sure.
At 10 o'clock W. had his farewell audience with the Emperor, but it wasn't particularly interesting—an insignificant conversation—might have been any emperor, or any ambassador, of any country.
After breakfast we went out again "en bande" with a new polyglot youth this time—a young Frenchman whom Lhermite had discovered. He took us to all sorts of places, small shops and bazaars, where we had never been. We bought a good many things, Circassian belts and buckles of wrought silver, some studded with turquoises, some enamelled—pretty work—Russian chainsand crosses, small Madonnas in curious brass frames—always the black face on a gold ground, and several of those beautiful, light Orenburg shawls, so fine that they pass through a ring (we all tried) and yet fairly large and warm when one shakes them out to the full size. It was rather amusing going in and out of all the funny little shops. We left the carriage in one of the big streets and walked about.
Now we have come home. I have had my tea alone to-day. I must dress, as we dine early, 7 o'clock, on account of our reception afterwards. I went with Lhermite to see the flowers, fruit, bonbons, petits fours, etc., which arrived this morning from Paris. It is extraordinary how fresh they all look. There are dozens of boxes in the dining-room and office, and the men are putting the flowers all about the rooms, Lhermite superintending the whole thing. He is an enormous help—I don't know what we should have done without him.
I am going to wear my white and silver brocade to-night, the one I wore at the Palace gala dinner—my lastfull dressin Moscow. I am rather shaken by my outing this afternoon—the going in some of those crooked little old streets was something awful. The holes in the so-called pavement were appalling, and the paving-stones tapered off generally to a sharp point. I think nothing but a Russian carriage, driven by a Russian coachman could have got along. I must say it is a straggling, queer-looking town once you get out of the Kremlin and the main streets. The houses are very far apart, generally white and low, with large gardens, like a big overgrown village.
Well, Dear, our reception is over. It is ended early, as everything does here—and as I am wide awake I willwrite at once. People began to come about 9.30, and at 11.30 everyone had gone. The rooms looked well, quantities of lights and flowers, everyone noticed the flowers (there are so few here), which were heaped up everywhere on consoles, mantelpieces, wherever one could put them. We had a great many people—all our colleagues in full force, but not so many Russians as we expected. A good many were de service at the Palace, where there was a function of some kind for Russians only (the provinces), and I am sure many never received their invitations, as it is impossible to find out where anyone lives. I had a talk with General Richter and one or two others, and then some of the younger members of the party suggested dancing—of course we had no music, as dancing had not been contemplated, but various amateurs offered their services, and they had about half an hour of waltzes. At the end they danced a little the Russian mazurka, which I was very curious to see. It is quite different from our cotillon or the Sir Roger de Coverley. There are all sorts of steps and figures. The gentleman takes his partner by the hand, holding it rather high (as in the polonaise). They hold themselves very straight, heads well back, as in a minuet, and do various figures. The women have a quick, sliding step when they change partners, which is very effective. I should think none but Russians would dance it well—one must be born to it.
Prince Orloff stayed on a little after everyone had gone, and we talked over all the fêtes, and principally our own performances. He says he has heard plenty of talk and criticisms of everything, and is much pleased with the success of our Mission. I hope the people at home will be satisfied.
We had a dinner for all the French newspaper correspondentsthe other day—and they expressed themselves as quite gratified. They told us that one of the correspondents (I forget which paper) had accepted W.'s invitation, but the very day of the dinner there had been such a violent attack on W. in his paper that he didn't like to come, and sent an excuse. They say the Times' account is the best—the Figaro also very good (Wolff).
Saturday, June 9, 1883.
The court is most amusing this morning—all the gentlemen are trying their horses, superintending the saddling, etc., as most of them follow the Emperor to-day at the revue. The little Russian horses look very lively and never stand still an instant. W. and I go together in the d'Orsay, Corcelle preceding us in another carriage. Benckendorff rides with all the others. Général Pittié is rather bored, he hates riding, particularly on a horse he doesn't know, so he and Fayet will only mount at the Champ de Mars. They say the Emperor's suite will be enormous—over 100. I wore my écru batiste with the heavy white embroidery and the écru bonnet with the wreath of pink and red roses. It is almost white. (I wonder how I shall ever wear out all these garments.)
The day is beautiful. We started about 10, as we were invited for 11 to the Tribune Impériale. The road out was a sight—the middle alley had been kept for the swells and Court, and there were quantities of Imperial and Ambassadors' carriages, aides-de-camp, etc., dashing about. I didn't see any handsomeprivateequipages. They told me the reason was that the swells were attached to the Court and went about always in Court carriages. Our gentlemen passed us riding—they hadrendezvous in the court-yard of the Palace Petrofski, where the Emperor mounted. We went on to the Tribune. The cortége started fairly punctually. First came the Empress in a victoria with four white horses. The Arch Duchess Charles Louis was seated next to her, and on the box the Duchesse d'Edimbourg and the Grand Duchess Wladimir, I think—at any rate another Princess. There were 2 postilions, 2 mounted grooms, and a piqueur. Then came the Emperor riding on the right of the Empress's carriage, always on his little grey Cossack horse, the Grand Duke Héritier and the Duke of Edinburgh directly behind him, and then a long, glittering suite of foreign Princes and officers. The Grand Duke Wladimir commands the Gardes, and was on the field to receive his brother. It is the first time I have seen the Emperor without the Grand Duke Wladimir close behind him. It was striking to see the stern, watchful face always there. The Empress drove up and down the lines, the Emperor riding alongside. It was difficult to distinguish any uniforms, as they were rather far off, and there were clouds of dust. As soon as the Empress had passed her revue she came up to the Tribune and took up her position directly in front,standingalmost all the time. The Emperor and his staff remained directly under the Tribune to see the défilé. That of course was long—but we had breakfast, also a sort of goûter always going on, and servants appearing at intervals carrying trays with tea, chocolate, orangeade, etc. All the Grand Duchesses (not the Empress) moved about and talked to us. The Duchesse d'Oldenburg sat down next me for some time and told me about some of the regiments (Crimean fame), named some of the generals, etc.
I had tea with the Duchess of Edinburgh. She is easy, clever, and was much interested in all that was going on,told me I must come to the front for the cavalry and Cossack charge, and that it would be soon. I followed her when she made the move—the infantry were just finishing—and in the distance one saw a movement and a flash of lances in the sun, which showed that the Cossacks were getting ready. They passed like a whirlwind—so fast, and in such clouds of dust that one saw nothing but the glint of the lances, neither colour of uniforms, horses, flags. All the troops, infantry as well as cavalry, saluted the Emperor as they passed—a sort of dull sound, more like a groan than a cheer—nothing like a ringing English hurrah.
That was the end, so I went to the Princess Kotchoubey, Grande Maîtresse, to ask her if I should go and take leave of the Empress, as she and the Emperor leave Moscow to-morrow. She said the Empress wished us all, Ambassadrices and femmes de chefs-de-Mission, to stand near the door, and she would say good-bye to us on her way out, so we moved down, and after waiting a little she came. She made her circle very prettily, shook hands with all, and talked a little, but she was evidently tired and anxious to get away. She was dressed in a curious dress, a sort of yellow cloth of gold, and gold bonnet with red flowers—always her splendid pearl necklace.
We had to wait some little time before our carriages could get up, so I went back to the front of the Tribune to see the troops disperse. It was a pretty sight as they all filed off in long columns, music playing and flags flying, and always little groups of Cossacks tearing all over the place. I had another cup of tea with a very good little cake while I was waiting. Lady Thornton was tired and wanted one, so we sat there quite quietly and had our tea. It was a lovely, bright, warm day, andwe liked that better than waiting at the door in the crowd until our carriages came.