Читать книгу: «Memoirs of the Duchesse De Dino (Afterwards Duchesse de Talleyrand et de Sagan), 1841-1850», страница 14

Cologne, May 26, 1843.– I embarked this morning at Mayence where I arrived yesterday morning in fine sun-light but also in a violent wind. Rain and hail soon alternated with the hurricane and the waves of the Rhine rose and became unpleasantly maritime in character. The Grand Duchess Stephanie told me that she thought the reputation of the Rhine scenery exaggerated, and I am inclined to agree with her. The river is beautiful and magnificently framed: the villages, the churches, and the ruins surround it with historical recollections, it is true, but the lack of vegetation gives an unpleasant aridity to the country; however, the journey is interesting and even poetical if anybody is so minded. The castle of Stolzenfels, as seen from the boat, is pretty but by no means grandiose; this is a castle which the King of Prussia has just restored and enlarged so that he was able to stay there with sixty people on his last visit; the interior is said to be charming and to command an excellent view. As for Rheinstein which Prince Frederick has laid out, it is quite a small place: it can only be approached on horseback, whereas it is possible to drive up to Stolzenfels. The several communes which owned old ruined castles on the Rhine have presented them to different princes of the house of Prussia: thus, apart from Stolzenfels, which belongs to the King, and Rheinstein, which belongs to Prince Frederick, the Prince of Prussia has received a castle, as also has Prince Charles, and even the Queen has her own. They are all on the left bank and the King has ordered the new owners to restore them and make them habitable. The castle of Hornbach, where Young Germany held its revolutionary meetings, before the establishment of the Commission of Mayence, is on the right bank and in the Bavarian states: the King of Bavaria has just presented it to his son, the Prince Royal; he has changed its name and it is now called Maxburg.

I made some progress to-day with the second volume of M. de Custine. He reports conversations which he had with the Emperor and Empress, which are graceful and lively, but were inspired by the idea that they would be printed. As I read all these I wondered if a traveller who owes his magnificent entertainment to the fear of his judgment as an author, to the desire that he may show his hosts kindness in his book, and avoid any partiality in his descriptions, is bound by the same degree of gratitude as the traveller who is well treated from disinterested motives, merely because his character happens to please. I admit that my judgment in this respect wavers a little and though in any case I should think a delicate discretion preferable, I cannot help finding some excuse for a man who thinks himself less entirely bound by interested politeness than he would be by spontaneous kindness. In any case the imperial conversations are described in a sufficiently laudatory style: the most unfettered and critical mind is always more or less influenced by marks of condescension from a crown. None the less this work will cause profound dissatisfaction in Russia and the welcome given to travellers will certainly be colder and more reserved.

Iserlohn, May 27, 1843.– I left Cologne this morning without regretting the inn of Rheinsberg. All these inns on the banks of the Rhine are nicely situated. They contain furniture of inlaid wood, and stuffed sofas with pretty coverings; but their proximity to the water and their exposed position make them very cold. The want of fireplaces is displeasing, as wind and damp have an easier entrance owing to the lack of shutters and blinds. In the month of May the double windows have been removed, and I really regret them. Daylight, which arrives before four o'clock, and cannot be excluded, leads to untimely waking, and is an inconvenience at which I grumbled the more as the noise of forty-five steamboats, the bells which announced their departure and the clatter of the stokers, make an uproar which lasts for nearly twenty-four hours; then there is the noise made by people coming and going in the inn, and the combination is enough to make one ill. Had it not been for the rain, I should have gone this morning to the Cathedral to see how far our subscriptions – for I have also subscribed – have advanced the work upon this fine monument during the last three years; but the weather was so bad, and I felt so worn out by the most execrable little German bed in all its Teutonic purity, that I had no courage to get wet in order to satisfy my curiosity, and re-entered my carriage in a bad temper.

Cassel, May 28, 1843.– It rained hard all last night, and is raining still. The outlook is melancholy and depressing. To-day I am going to Göttingen, to-morrow to Brunswick, and the day after to-morrow to Harbke. I shall be interested to see Brunswick, which I do not know, and Göttingen, whose turbulent students and liberal professors have so often roused the wrath of the King of Hanover.

I am still immersed in M. de Custine. In the third volume there is a letter concerning Princess Trubetzkoi,⁹¹ who followed her husband to the mines of Siberia with noble devotion. The effects are so striking that no rhetoric is required to make them impressive. Conscious of this fact, the author has increased the impressiveness of this terrible drama in its last phase by simplifying his style. The scene which concludes this unusual story of misfortune moved me deeply. In my youth I heard many stories of Siberia from my father, and for that reason, I suppose, I feel a keen sympathy with the unfortunate wretches who are there buried alive.

Brunswick, May 29, 1843.– Nothing but rain with occasional bursts of hail, and by way of diversion a miserable ray of sunlight which steals shamefully forth to announce a new storm. Brunswick is an old and rather ugly town, with large and gloomy houses, an old church in full Gothic style, and a town hall even more Gothic. It is a great relief to find something really old after a succession of little capitals rebuilt without character or historical memory, with their tawdry modern ornamentation. I noticed a magnificent breed of post horses and draught and military horses; they are splendid, strong and vigorous animals; I do not know whether the district produces them or if they are brought from Mecklenburg.

When any one's memory is as full of your stories of the United States as mine is,⁹² and when one reads the stories of M. de Custine concerning Russia, it is difficult to say which of the two countries seems the more objectionable, as their bad points are so precisely in contradiction; but with regard to the Russians, I think I forgot to tell you an incident which might very well find a place in M. de Custine's quotations. When I was recently in Paris for the last time, I called upon my niece, Madame de Lazareff, to say good-bye. She said to me, "You have quite an imperial countenance this morning, aunt." I did not understand, and told her so. "Oh," she replied, "at St. Petersburg, when any one looks particularly well, that is what we say." Is not that excellent?

Harbke, May 31, 1843.– I left Brunswick yesterday morning, but the journey here took a great deal of time, and caused me many screams of terror. To begin with, even the highroads in the Duchy of Brunswick are far from admirable, while Harbke is at the end of a horrible cross-road. The terrible rains of the last few days have ruined the roads to such an extent that I really thought we should stick fast. When I arrived, I found the poor old master of the house⁹³ ill, and his wife in great anxiety. I was anxious to start again at once in order not to embarrass them at such a time, but neither Frau von Veltheim nor the invalid himself would hear of this plan; so I shall start to-morrow very early, and reach Berlin, if God wills, in the evening.

This place is very well arranged for a German château. It is of considerable extent, and would have some style if the old building had not been modernised instead of being left as it was. The garden is well kept and adjoins beautiful woods. The mistress of the house has no children, and is devoted to flowers and birds, even to some noisy cockatoos; she is scrupulously neat, and is aged sixty-two: a tall, thin, pale figure, she is always dressed in white muslin: and her lace caps and her shawls, all tied with white ribbons, give her a somewhat ghostly appearance. The Veltheim family is most noble and ancient, and the members are well aware of the fact; she is a Bülow. Count Veltheim's first wife, from whom he is divorced, is now Countess Putbus, the mother of Countess Lottum, and of the young Putbus who died at Carlsruhe. The Veltheims are very wealthy, and a certain note of opulence prevails in the house where, however, the useful and the agreeable are in very close conjunction. There is no view, as the castle is built in a hollow and overlooked by wooded hills. From the top of one of these hills the Hartz mountains can be seen distinctly on the horizon, while the Brocken, where Goethe placed the supernatural scenes of Faust, stands out very clearly.

Magdeburg, June 1, 1843.– A most annoying incident has just happened; I have missed the train for Berlin which I hoped to reach this evening, and I ought to be very satisfied that I have got so far safe and sound; to cover thirteen leagues, the distance from Harbke to this town, I was obliged to spend ten hours on the road. The continuous deluge of the last few days and the waterspouts which have burst over the country, have devastated everything, swollen the streams, carried away the dykes, swept away earth, &c. Nothing can describe my anxiety.

Berlin, June 2, 1843.– At length I have reached the first halting-place on my long and tiresome journey. I have arrived literally at the end of my resources, with a ragged dress, reduced to my last crown and so exhausted that I feel as if I had spinal curvature. The railway from Magdeburg here is very well managed and the journey is accomplished in eight hours, though the line is not direct, as the railway passes through Dessau and Wittenberg. I did as I have done on board the steamers and remained in my own carriage: this seemed to me the most suitable plan, as I had no male companion and a very mixed number of people were travelling.

Berlin, June 3, 1843.– The Duchesse d'Albuféra writes to say that Princesse Clémentine went to Brest to embark for Lisbon and Brittany where she was excellently received; while good news has arrived from the Prince de Joinville and the Duc d'Aumale is distinguishing himself in Algeria. The Duchesse de Montmorency tells me of an extraordinary incident: Madame de Dolomieu has sold for thirty-five thousand francs certain autograph letters by living writers in which there are some that could only be circulated with unpleasant consequences. The King of France bought back his letters for twenty-five thousand francs. Really impudence at the present time knows no bounds! General Fagel forced Madame de Dolomieu to buy back for eight hundred francs a letter from the King of the Low Countries which he had given her and which she had sold with the collection.

The author of the tragedy of Lucrèce, M. Ponsard, and the author of the tragedy of Judith, Madame Emile de Girardin, whose plays have met with such different receptions, came across one another at the house of the Duchesse de Gramont. Madame de Girardin was bursting with rage, in a manner said to be absolutely grotesque.

Berlin, June 4, 1843.– Yesterday I saw the Countess of Reede. The old and agreeable lady, who always treats me as her daughter, received me with open arms and soon put me in possession of all current news. She is at the head of the faction hostile to Princesse Albert, who has gone to Silesia. Her position here is abominable, and though the King has so far supported her as not to allow his son to divorce her, the Princess feels herself entirely out of place in society and at the Court.

I went to tea with the Princess of Prussia. Her husband was there and has grown stout, and I am sorry to see how she has changed, as the beauty of which I thought so much has disappeared. As she is young and strong, I hope that her freshness will return.

Berlin, June 5, 1843.– Yesterday was a day of hard work. First came Sunday mass; then I went home for a long business talk with Herr von Wurmb and Herr von Wolff, and then went to Madame de Perponcher, and then to the Werthers; they are to see their son again to-day who is Prussian Minister at Berne. I then called upon Lady Westmoreland, who had just heard that one of her sons, whom she had left in England, was seriously ill. Finally, I went to the Radziwills.

I dined with the Princess of Prussia. The other guests were the Prince and Princess William, the uncle and aunt, their son who has come back from Brazil, the Werthers, Countess Neale, the Radziwills, Prince Pückler-Muskau, and Max von Hatzfeldt. It was a fine and splendid dinner in the prettiest palace in the world, but the stormy weather made every one ill. I did not know Prince Pückler, who has been able to recover favour at Court,⁹⁴ at any rate to some extent, in the following way: The Prince of Prussia was anxious to improve his park at Babelsberg in Potsdam, and told his gardener to write to the gardener of Muskau, requesting him to obtain a few weeks leave from his master to come and lay out the garden of Babelsberg. The Prince of Prussia then received a letter from Prince Pückler, telling him that the real gardener of Muskau was himself, and that he was starting forthwith for Babelsberg for a consultation with the Prince's gardener. When he arrived he undertook the whole of the gardener's business and began to lay out walks, clumps of trees, &c. Some days afterwards the Prince of Prussia found him hard at work, and naturally thanked him, asked him to dinner, and now he has become quite the fashion. He told me that he was starting to-day for Muskau, asked me to pay a visit to his park when I was at Sagan, and offered his help in laying out the park of Sagan.

M. and Madame Bresson called for me later on and took me to the opera, where Robert le Diable was performed, and conducted by Meyerbeer himself. The performance was excellent, but the heat was frightful. Many people came into our box, including Maurice Esterhazy, who seemed to me somewhat depressed.

Berlin, June 6, 1843.– I have had a call from Humboldt, who said that two years hence there would be a national representative assembly sitting at Berlin, that it would be at first consultative and afterwards deliberative.

I am struck by the animation of Berlin since it has become a railway centre. The population has increased by fifty thousand people and the development of manufacture and luxury is very marked. The following is a curious little anecdote: Upon the death of the Duc d'Orléans the Empress of Russia and the Prince of Prussia, who were at St. Petersburg, attempted to persuade the Emperor to take the opportunity of writing directly to King Louis-Philippe; he refused, but told the Empress that he would authorise her to write to the Duchesse d'Orléans. The two Princesses had known one another formerly in Germany, and were on such intimate terms as to speak in the second person singular; the Empress wrote in German, using this form; she received a somewhat cold answer in French from which it was absent. The Empress was much hurt, and complained to her aunt, the Princess William of Prussia, sister of the Dowager Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg; the Empress asserts that it is very rude to reply in another language than that used by the first correspondent, and that if the Duchesse d'Orléans thought it her duty to use only the language of her children's country, she, the Empress, would do the same next time and would write in Russian.

I have seen M. Bresson, who told me that recently, in a club at St. Petersburg, the Emperor spoke to the French Chargé d'Affaires, and asked, "When is M. Barante coming back?"

I dined with the Wolffs. There were also present, Count Alvensleben, Finance Minister; Herr von Olfers, Director of the Museum; Huden, the Councillor of State; and Barry, who is the first doctor in Berlin after Schönlein. I then went to Lady Westmoreland, whom I found very old and much changed, but witty and pleasant as ever. She told me that Lord Jersey was inconsolable on account of Sarah's marriage with Nicholas Esterhazy, who, however, is happy so far. Old Lord Westmoreland has treated his son as badly as possible in his will, and Lady Georgina Fane, far from showing her brother any kindness, as has been said, insisted upon the prompt execution of the will with such severity that the Westmorelands would be in serious difficulty were it not for their post in Berlin. When I left Lady Westmoreland I called on Countess Neale, one of my oldest acquaintances in this world; I found her alone, and we spent a long time talking of our young days.

Berlin, June 9, 1843.– Yesterday I dined with the Princess of Prussia; she is really a very interesting character, and her regular kindness to myself and her increasing confidence, make me ever more attached to herself and her fortunes. I am anxious for her health, and I fear that she is right in regarding it as seriously affected. There was a numerous company at her dinner: Princess Charles, her sister; my two nephews Biron; the Prince of Wurtemberg, the youngest of the brothers of the Grand Duchess Helena; the latter told me that the Grand Duke Michael was shortly to reach Marienbad, and from thence would go to England. The King of Hanover was taken ill in the course of his journey to England, and was unable to reach London for the baptism; he is said to be in a very bad state and overcome with the idea, which is probably correct, that he is going to die. This notion has taken a strong hold of his mind, as a prophecy was made to him that he would die in the year in which his son was married.

Berlin, June 11, 1843.– Yesterday I went to Charlottenburg to visit the mausoleum of the late king, by the side of the late queen's tomb. The chapel has been enlarged, but the general effect is lost and I was not pleased, although the altar of black and white marble is one of the prettiest things I have ever seen. The walls are covered with Bible texts which the present King himself chose, painted in golden letters upon sky-blue scrolls; the effect is somewhat Moorish; the general appearance is by no means Christian. Protestant architecture is certainly dry both in outward form, in its general worship, and in the essence of its mutable doctrines.

Berlin, June 14, 1843.– Yesterday, after dining by the chair of the Countess of Reede, her daughter, Madame de Perponcher, took me round the grand rooms in the castle to show me the Rittersaal which the King has just restored. Some curious portraits and some furniture dating from the Great Elector give a certain interest to these rooms though upon the whole they are very moderate. We left the Countess to go to the German Comedy Theatre where we saw an excellent performance of Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle,⁹⁵ for translations from the French stage are continually played in Germany.

A historical novel has just appeared which is quite the rage here, called The Moor,⁹⁶ and deals with the period of Gustavus III. The author, who has been many years in Sweden, had access to the archives of the realm, and the documents which he quotes are authentic. People here say that a negro actually lived at the court of Queen Ulrica and that most of the characters and incidents of the novel are true. I am reading it with much interest; as I knew the Baron of Arnfelt in my youth (in fact, he taught me to read) I am particularly interested in anything relating to him. M. de Talleyrand also spoke to me often of Gustavus III., of whom he saw a great deal at the time of his second visit to Paris when he was returning from Rome. The King of Sweden at that time had gained the ear of the Pope to such an extent that he thought he could easily obtain the cardinal's hat for one of his friends. He suggested that M. de Talleyrand should present his request, but the favour was declined, as the equivocal reputation of Gustavus III. would have given the request an unpleasant colouring.⁹⁷ At the same time the Princesse de Carignan,⁹⁸ the grandmother of the present King of Sardinia, who was strongly attracted by M. de Talleyrand (at that time he was Abbé of Périgord, before he became Bishop of Autun), thought herself also sufficiently influential at Rome to secure the necessary dispensations which would have enabled my uncle to marry her if he became a layman. M. de Talleyrand has often told me as one of the strangest incidents of his life that he was thus simultaneously involved in two contradictory projects, both requiring the sanction of the court of Rome; he also told me that Gustavus III. was a very clever and agreeable character.

Berlin, June 15, 1843.– M. de Talleyrand arrived here the day before yesterday. We dined at the house of the Radziwills with M. Bresson who told me of the marriage of the Prince de Joinville. He is marrying a Brazilian princess who is pretty and lovable with a dowry of four million francs.

We spent the rest of the evening with the Princess of Prussia who was alone with her husband. I am sorry to think that this kind Princess will not be here on my return on the 23rd: she is starting for Weimar on the 20th and is to spend the summer with her mother. I feel very anxious about her health and spirits which are greatly depressed.

Berlin, June 16, 1843.– Yesterday I went with the Countess Neale to Potsdam by railway, to dine at Glienicke with Princess Charles of Prussia. The weather was rather cold but dry and clear. Prince Adalbert of Prussia who has just come back from Brazil was also there. He had seen the Princesse de Joinville at Rio de Janeiro and spoke of her as very pretty and pleasant; for the sake of the young Prince I am delighted.

In the evening I saw Madame Chreptowitz, née Nesselrode, who is coming from St. Petersburg on her way to Naples where her husband has been appointed Chargé d'Affaires. She says that M. de Custine's book is quite the rage at St. Petersburg, and rage is the correct term, for the book rouses the Russians to fearful wrath. They assert that it is full of falsehoods. The Emperor reads it attentively, speaks of it disdainfully, and is really disgusted with it. An amusing incident in reference to this subject, is the statement of Madame de Meyendorff, the wife of the Russian minister at Berlin, who loudly declares that the book is as true as it is amusing and says she hopes that it will teach the Russians to be less conceited.

Herr von Liebermann, Prussian Minister at St. Petersburg, who is also here on his way to Carlsbad, told me yesterday that his health and spirits had suffered severely at St. Petersburg and that he would be dead if he had not obtained leave of absence. The fact is that he looks very ill, in spite of his bloated appearance, and seems to be quite disgusted with Russia.

The King of Denmark has announced that he will visit the King of Prussia in the island of Rügen.

Sagan, June 17, 1843.– I arrived here this morning. I am staying in a pretty house opposite the castle where my father's chief agent used to live. I found a courier there who had come over from Muskau, asking me to go there and meet the Prince of Prussia. I shall therefore return to Berlin by way of Muskau and spend a day there.

In company with Herr von Wolff I drove round part of my new acquisition, including the forest, and was delighted by the stags and roe deer which came round the carriage.

Sagan, June 19, 1843.– Yesterday was Sunday and I went to high mass in a very pretty church in the town. The service was choral and was very tolerably performed. Then I went to the castle to examine the books and other objects which, however, are by no means valuable and which I have bought with the rest of the fief. This transaction somewhat confuses my position towards my nephew the Prince of Hohenzollern, and produces a very disagreeable mixture of meum and tuum, which I shall bring to an end as soon as possible.

This morning I went to the little church where my sister is buried and had mass said on her behalf. I explained to an architect the restoration which I desired to make in this church. On leaving it I paid a visit to the schools, the shelters and the factories. I then returned to dinner with the officers of the artillery battery and garrison here; they had invited the Prefect and several other persons from the town.

Muskau, June 20, 1843.– I could write a long account of this household and can say at once that it has an individuality of its own. I left Sagan this morning at about nine o'clock and arrived here at one o'clock. The road is not bad, though near Muskau a sea of sand begins which reduces speed almost to the point of immobility. It is therefore a double surprise to drive through the freshest and greenest of parks, as full of flowers and as carefully tended as can be imagined. It is quite like England, with all its care and comfort expended both without and within the castle. A very noble flight of stairs bordered by fine orange-trees leads to the castle court which would be modern in style if it were not for the towers crowned by belfries, which give it an imposing aspect not to be found in modern edifices. At the foot of the stairs I found Prince Pückler surrounded by footmen, lacqueys, Arabs and negroes, a very strange and motley troop. He immediately conducted me to my room which is most luxurious; a sitting-room full of flowers, a bedroom draped with white muslin, and a dressing-room in a tower; even my servants say they have never been so well lodged. The Prince of Prussia has been detained at Berlin on business and will not arrive until to-morrow. Princess Carolath, step-daughter of Prince Pückler, came to apologise for the absence of her mother, Princess Pückler, who was not quite well and had not yet finished dressing. Shortly afterwards she came in: she is very pleasant, extremely distinguished and talks most admirably upon every subject.

Among the strange inhabitants of this castle is a very tiny little dwarf,⁹⁹ no taller than a child of four, perfectly proportioned and dressed as a Pole. He is nineteen years of age and is much petted and dressed up; he seems happy, though he made a very sad impression on me.

Muskau, June 21, 1843.– The close of yesterday was spoilt by a cold, sharp and gusty wind which suddenly arose to sadden the country and freeze poor mortal frames after three days warm weather. After dinner I looked over the rest of the house. Everything is very nice, though the proportions within are by no means upon a vast scale: flowers have been very artistically used for decoration and give a special beauty to the rooms; the Princess's room resembles a hothouse and an aviary at the same time. I was especially struck by a portrait of the Prince fastened to the Princess's desk round which laurel branches were artistically placed: they belong to two laurels which stand in pots on either side of the desk; a little vase of forget-me-nots was placed between the portrait and the writing pad. This is one of the thousand details in this union which was broken off and restored and which is quite unparalleled; for though in society one may often meet people who have separated but have not been divorced, it is much more unusual to meet divorced people who have not been separated.¹⁰⁰

In spite of the disagreeable cold and the bitter wind which would have excused a fire, we went for a drive round the park in an open carriage. Prince Pückler sat by my side, to act as showman to this extraordinary estate. In England it would be fine and here it is marvellous. He has created not merely a park but a country: sandy plains, white and dusty hills, have been changed into verdant slopes and fresh green lawns; superb trees rise upon every side, clumps of flowers frame the castle; a pretty stream brightens the whole and the town of Muskau gives interest to the landscape which is rich, diversified and full of beauty; yet, throughout this drive which lasted for two hours, Prince Pückler would talk of nothing but his desire to sell this fair creation. He would like the Prince of Prussia to buy it: he says that as he has finished his work, he feels no more interest in it, and like a painter who has finished his picture, he would like to begin another in a better climate; he tells me he is thinking of South Germany about the Black Forest and the confines of Switzerland. The Princess does not hide her sorrow at this idea and I can understand her feelings, for she has lived here for twenty-five years and the interior of the castle is her work; moreover, she has discovered a mineral spring on the spot, which has suggested the erection of a watering establishment. This idea has been carried out and the building in the park looks charming.

To return to Prince Pückler, he is not what I had expected him to be: he speaks but little, in a low voice, and whether he feels that I am ill-inclined to gossip and scandal, or whether he reserves his own powers in this direction for his writings, his conversation shows no trace of them. He rather gives me the idea of a man who is tired and bored than of a bad character.

Muskau, June 22, 1843.– I had proposed to start this morning, but the Prince of Prussia told me so graciously that he could not allow me to leave Muskau before himself, that a refusal would have been churlish, the more so as Princess Pückler seemed very anxious that I should stay. Here one is allowed to remain in one's room in sloth until midday, which suits my habits excellently. When I went downstairs yesterday to the drawing-room, the Prince of Prussia, who had arrived at nine o'clock in the morning, was already coming in from a walk. After lunch the Princess displayed many curiosities which her husband had brought home; books, frames, models of the Holy Sepulchre, rosaries and crosses in mother of pearl beautifully worked in Palestine, Arab paintings, arms and instruments of all kinds. In the library we were shown a manuscript on vellum with painted vignettes of Froissart's Chronicle. Something of everything is to be found in this curious house, which is full of contrasts. In the afternoon the men went out again for a long excursion and the ladies walked about the gardens, which well deserve to be examined in detail, so marvellous is the labour expended upon them, though attention to detail has in no way destroyed the general effect. Afterwards we entered a carriage and reaching a large field covered with people, we stopped to see the Arab and Egyptian horses of Prince Pückler parading, curvetting and galloping. They were ridden by men in Oriental dress, and it was a bright and pretty spectacle. Tea was served in one of the lounge rooms of the bathing establishment.