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To H. L. K
Ambassade de France, à Moscou,
Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska,Thursday, 24 Mai, 1883.
I am having a quiet morning. We have no particular function to-day. Madame Jaurès is coming to get me after breakfast, and we are going to do a little sightseeing. The first thing I hear in the morning always is Pontécoulant's voice in the court talking to Leroy and Hubert, and examining the horses. The pair we had in the gala carriage yesterday went beautifully. Hubert was rather nervous, as there is a steep little bit just as one passes through the gates of the Kremlin—it is also narrow, and those big, unwieldy carriages are not easily handled. The pavement is so rough that I was actually a little sick yesterday after I came in.
I was called off by a visit from Prince Orloff (Russian Ambassador in France). He comes almost every day, and is much interested in all our doings—said the carriage and general style of everything was much admired yesterday. About two Madame Jaurès came, and we started off sight-seeing. The admiral, Jaurès, and one or two of the young men met us at the Kremlin, and we went over the two palaces—new and old. The old one is most curious; small, dark, low rooms, vaulted ceilings, all most elaborately ornamented in Byzantine style; a small steep, twisting staircase; large porcelain stoves, and absolutely uncomfortable. We saw the dining-room where the Emperor and Empress will dine in state the day of the Coronation. The new palace is quite different—high, light, large rooms, white, which must look beautiful at night lighted by thousands of wax candles. In the great ballroom the two Throne chairs are on a gold dais with great curtains of purple velvet and ermine—very royal looking.
(I wonder if the sight of all this splendour will destroy my mental equilibrium—I assure you I felt rather like a queen myself yesterday, seated up alone in the great gala carriage, with everybody bowing and gaping.) There is a splendid view over the Kremlin, the river and the town from all the palace windows. We went again to the church of the Assomption, where we found Count Pahlen superintending. He showed us some of the famous paintings—among others a Madonna with a black face, a splendid diamond necklace, and large sapphires and emeralds disposed about her person. There are jewels about everywhere; on pictures, brackets, etc. Pahlen told me, when I was noticing them, that the Russian Court was famous for coloured stones, particularly emeralds and sapphires—told me to notice the Grand Duchess Constantine's emeralds, and the Empress's sapphires. I will, if ever I get time to go into details, but everything is on such an enormous scale here.
He also asked me if I was accustomed to standing three or four hours, and if not he would suggest a pliant "dissimulé sous les plis de la traine," and showed me with pride the rails, covered with red velvet, in our tribune, which he had had put there so we should be comfortable! It will really be an awful day, particularly as we have to begin it so early, but I suppose we shan't die of it.
I came back about 4, changed my dress for something more élegant (the blue silk with long blue redingote and white lace), and started off again in the d'Orsay for some visits (the little boy in the drosky going in front). I found the Princess Radziwill in two small rooms (she received me in her bedroom), all she could find for herself and her husband in Moscow—and that at an awful price (and she is Russian born). I also found Countess Pahlen, wife of the Grand Master, who was very smiling, and suggested that we should have an evening reception, which would be much appreciated. Of course we shall be delighted, and had even thought of a ball, but all those things had been settled in Russia before we left Paris. The Russian Court wished to have one ball only, as the Coronation functions were numerous and fatiguing, and that is to be at General Schweinitz's (Doyen of the Corps Diplomatique).
After leaving Countess Pahlen I went again to the Kremlin, the d'Orsay always exciting much attention. I had the greatest difficulty in finding out the Duchesse d'Edimbourg, for whom I had to write myself down, and could find no servant who spoke either German, French, or English. The crowd and confusion was something awful; apparently the whole of Moscow was going wherever I was—Ambassadors, Generals, Chamberlains, maids-of-honour, servants with tea, crowding in all the corridors. You never saw such a sight, and just as many more in the court-yards—carriages, soldiers, work-people, carpenters, bales of stuffs, and planks for stands, and all in that beautiful cadre—the old gray walls looked so soft, and the marvellous effects of colour everywhere. I was well shaken up, such a pavement. I met the Duc de Montpensier at every turn, sight-seeing too. We had a quiet dinner, the personnel only with Benckendorff. The gentlemen had been going all around too all the afternoon leaving cards. They all say the pavement is most trying.
W. and Pontécoulant have come in late as usual for a last little talk. I told them what Countess Pahlen had said about an evening reception. W. had had the same idea. I think the house is large enough—the ballroom ought to light well, all white with yellow satin furniture. We must have a talk with Lhermite about flowers; he says there are none here, his come from Paris.
Friday, 25th.
The men of the Embassy went off early, as they had no end of audiences with all the Grand Dukes; uncles and brothers of the Emperor. I walked about a little with Adelaïde, but I didn't find that very pleasant. It is curious I never see a lady of any kind walking, and we always attract attention. It is very warm, the sun really powerful. I breakfasted alone in the big dining-room, an elaborate meal, one maître d'hôtel and two tall footmen waiting upon me—I was rather sorry I hadn't asked for tea and cold chicken in my dressing-room.
At 3.30 the gentlemen all reappeared, put on their Austrian decorations, and we started for the reception of the Arch Duke and Arch Duchess Albert of Austria. We found quantities of people, as all the Corps Diplomatique had been convoked. W. and I went as usual in the d'Orsay. I wore my crème voile with lace and embroidery, straw bonnet with crème feathers, lined with dark blue velvet. We waited some little time in a large hall or anteroom where was Count Wolkenstein, Austrian Ambassador, who presented all the suite of the Arch Duke. Then appeared the Arch Duke alone—said his wife was coming in a few moments. We had known him in Paris—he had dined with us at the Quai d'Orsay when W. was Foreign Minister, our Exhibition year. He is a tall, distinguished looking man. It was when he was dining at the Elysée one night with Maréchal MacMahon that such a funny contre-temps occurred. Their dinners were always very good and soignés, but evidently they had not thought about the names of the dishes, and when we were well on with the dinner we suddenly realized that something was wrong. My neighbour said to me "Look at your menu," and what did I see—"Glace à la Magenta"—"Gateau Solférino," and I forget the third thing—all battles where the Austrians had been beaten. I spoke to one of the household about it afterwards who said "J'ai froid dans le dos en pensant à ce que le Maréchal me dira." It seems that when he was angry the Maréchal didn't mince matters, and used most emphatic expressions. You can imagine how carefully we studied the menu of our dinner which came two days after—"Glace à la Régence," "Gâteau Moka," etc., nothing compromising.
While the Arch Duke was talking there was suddenly a move, and he went to meet the Arch Duchess who came in, crossed the room quickly, and asked us to follow. We did, into a smaller room, W. and I alone. She is very handsome, younger than he is, tall and slight, dressed in a black dress with a great deal of lace, a very long train, a handsome pearl necklace, and a high comb of diamonds. She said she would like to make a stay in Paris. After they had congédied us W. asked if he might present the rest of the Mission, so I returned to the large salon and saw various people to talk to, including Count Apponyi, whom I had known in Paris, where his father was Ambassador for years.
We dined at home and went in the evening to a reception at M. de Giers'—Foreign Minister. The rooms were not large, and there were a great many people, I should think more foreigners and diplomatists than Russians. Princess Kotchoubey and Countess Pahlen did the honours. Quantities of people were presented to me—I shall never remember their names or their faces. I wore fraise-écrasé velvet, the front covered with white "point à l'aiguille." General Wolseley, who is here with the Duke of Edinburgh, was presented. He is not at all the real British type, small and dark, but very bright eyes. I also had quite a talk with my Dutch friend Schimmelpenninck, who assured me my toilettes were très réussies, particularly the white one, this afternoon. I had quite a talk too with the Hunts, who are very nice. Both are tall and fine-looking, she always very well dressed. The U.S. Mission is very distinguished—they have Mr. and Mrs. Mackay with them, both very natural and quiet; she of course has splendid jewels (they tell me her sapphires are beautiful), but she wears them quite simply, without any ostentation. There is also Admiral Baldwin, who has his ship at Cronstadt, and two charming young aides-de-camp, Rogers and Paul.
To H. L. K
Saturday, May 26, 1883.
Well, Dear, I am just alive, but nothing more, having performed 5 Grand Duchesses. The gentlemen all went off in full uniform at 11 to begin their audiences. I followed later alone (they always go en bande) with Richard going in the small carriage in front as officier de service (which amuses us both perfectly). I wore the white soft silk with Valenciennes that you liked, and the flower hat. Benckendorff complimented me on my toilette. It was a long affair getting to our different Princesses. They are all lodged in the Kremlin, and the various palaces connect with all sorts of passages and staircases, but the corridors are narrow and the block something awful. My first audience was with the Grand Duchess Michel. Her husband is an uncle of the Emperor, and was for a long time Governor of the Caucasus. When we finally got to the door of the apartments I was received by 2 Chamberlains (all gold and embroidery), who never left me until they deposited me in the carriage at 5 o'clock—I had started at 1.30. The ceremonial was always exactly the same, one or two ladies-in-waiting were in the room communicating with the one in which the Grand Duchess was waiting. They announced "L'Ambassadrice de France," I got through as many of my three regulation curtseys as I could—I never really had time to make the third, as they all advanced a few steps and shook hands. The Grand Duchess Michel is a Baden Princess, tall, slight, very intelligent, simply dressed in black velvet, and of course a pearl necklace. She spoke to me in English, French, and German, but the conversation was mostly in French. She seemed well up in French literature, and asked me what I thought of Zola's "L'Assommoir," was really surprised when I said I hadn't read it, nor in fact scarcely anything he wrote. She considered it a marvel, and couldn't understand any French woman not reading every word that came from "un des plus puissants cerveaux du siècle." She knew too all the pieces de théâtre, and when I expressed surprise that she had had time to read so much, said her life in the Caucasus was so lonely—no society of any kind, and no resources outside of her own palace. I should think she was a maïtresse femme.
After leaving her I was taken in hand again by my two chamberlains, and walked some distance across one or two courts, always meeting more chamberlains escorting colleagues, principally men, all in uniform and orders, doing the same thing, and trying to get on as fast as they could. My next visit was to the Grand Duchess Constantine. When we got to the anteroom and small salon we found them full of gentlemen, who proved to be our Mission, who had arrived a few minutes before. That made a slight change of programme, as the Grand Duke decided to receive W. and me together with the Duchess—accordingly we were received first, alone, in a small room. The Grand Duke was standing close to the door; the Grand Duchess in the centre of the room. He is a sailor, looks very intelligent. She has been very handsome, carries herself beautifully, and has a splendid figure. He was in uniform—she in red velvet (she didn't have on her emeralds—I suppose we shall see them all to-morrow). They both talked very easily about all sorts of things; Greece of course and the Schuylers, of whom she spoke very warmly. Her daughter is the Queen of Greece—I hope we shall see her, as I have heard Gert talk so much about her. The Grand Duchess said she was tired already, and the Ceremonies haven't begun yet. She had received yesterday 100 ladies of Moscow. They came in groups of 10, and she had to find something to say to each one.
As soon as the audience was over W. asked permission, as usual, to present the rest of the Mission. I remained in the outer salon talking to the ladies-in-waiting. The apartment is high, with a splendid view over Moscow. They pointed me out several churches and curious roofs—were much interested in all my visits and my clothes, supposed I had quantities of trunks.
After that I departed again alone, and saw the Grand Duchess Catherine, who was very amiable, but kept me a few minutes only, as she had so many people to receive. Then I took another long walk, and up several flights of narrow, turning stairs (the chamberlains in front and Richard behind) to the Duchesse d'Oldenburg. The Belgian Mission was being received, so I waited in the outer salon, and again W. and the gentlemen arrived, and he and I were received together. Evidently they like it better when we can go together, as it saves time for them—and if we are tired, think what they must be. I went off again alone, and was received by the Grand Duchess Wladimir, who is charming—a German Princess. She is young, a pretty figure, very well dressed in white. She looked rather delicate, having just got over a rather bad attack of measles. She dreads the fatigue very much to-morrow, and had asked the Empress if she might have a folding-chair, a pliant of some kind, but her "demande n'a pas été accueillie favorablement. L'Imperatrice elle-même sera debout tout le temps. Il faudrait absolument que nous fassions comme elle." I didn't mention my pliant, as I am quite sure no one will notice to-morrow anything I do.
That finished my audience, and I had been standing or walking since I left the Embassy, so I was glad to find the carriage, which was by no means easy. There were quantities at the Kremlin, and as we never by any chance came out at the same door by which we went in, and the coachman was told to follow, he naturally had some difficulty in getting it. Also it is raining hard, which complicates matters. There are carpets down to the doors, but so many people have passed over them that they are just as wet and muddy as the streets. We met all the rest of the Mission at the Embassy door, and then there was a general détente, the men all calling for their servants to get them out of their uniforms, and to bring beer and cigars.
W. came in to tea. He looked really done up—he had been at it steadily since 12. There are so many Princes and Grand Dukes without any wives. I am writing in bits, but will finish as usual the last thing. We have had a small dinner—the other French Embassy (permanent), Lagrené, Consul, and Orloff. Benckendorff of course. They all went away early, as our day to-morrow is an awful one.
It is pouring still, and we are rather melancholy at the thought of our gala carriages, and blue and silver liveries in a heavy rain. Just before dinner I had a visit from Philippe, and he made various essais with my diadem and feathers. He is to be here at six to-morrow morning to coiffer me. He also requested that he might see my dress so as to make his coiffure "harmoniser avec l'ensemble." I wanted to see it too, so as to be sure that everything was right, and the flowers well sewn on. It is now reposing on one of the big arm-chairs in the dressing-room, covered up with a sheet.
My eyes are shutting of themselves, so I will stop. Please send all my letters on to America, as I never can write two accounts of our life here.
To H. L. K
Ambassade de France à Moscou,
Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska,Dimanche, 27 Mai, 1883.
I am perfectly exhausted, Dear, after the most beautiful, bewildering, exhausting day I have ever gone through. We got home at 4.30. I rested a little, had tea as usual in my boudoir with W. and Richard, and will write as much as I can while I am still under the impression of all I have seen.
I was up at 5.30, as we had to leave here at 7. Philippe was very punctual—put on diadem and feathers very well. Happily it was all blue, rather dark (as my dress too was blue), and he remarked pleasantly, to put me at my ease I think, and make me feel as comfortable as I could at that hour of the morning, "Le bleu c'est le fard de Madame." He couldn't understand that I wouldn't let him maquiller my face—said all the Princesses were painted—but I really couldn't go that.
When I appeared in the drawing-room, the men of the Embassy were very complimentary about my dress. We went in our three carriages (I had the white moiré cloak, trimmed with dark feathers over me), W. and I and Pontécoulant in the first gala carriage driven by Leroy (I wish you could have seen him, as much taken up with his dress as I was with mine). He stood giving directions to a quantity of understrappers, but never touching harness, nor even whip, until we appeared, then got on his box as we got into the carriage, settled himself in a fine pose, and we started.
The second gala carriage driven by Hubert (who looked very well) came next, and then the d'Orsay. It really was a very pretty cortége, and we were much looked at and admired, as we drove very slowly, and jolting very much, to the German Embassy. All our colleagues came up about the same time. Some of the gala carriages were good, the Austrian, but ours out and out the best. No one else had three.
We assembled in one of the large rooms of the palace, and then walked through numerous rooms, galleries, and finally through an open court, entirely covered with a red carpet, and lined with soldiers and officers—every description of uniform. The Chevalier-Gardes, magnificent in their white tunics, silver cuirasses and helmets. Happily it was fine—I don't know what we should have done in the rain, and also so early in the morning the sun was not gênant (as it was later in the day). The long procession, the men in uniform and decorations; the women in full dress, feathers and diadems, was most effective.
I left my cloak in the carriage, and didn't feel chilly, but some of the women were uncomfortable, and had little lace and fur tippets. We filed into the church (which is small), and into the Diplomatic Tribune, and settled ourselves quite easily—there was plenty of room. The effect inside was dazzling: tapers, flowers, pictures, jewels, quantities of women already seated, all in the Kakoshnik, and a general impression of red and gold in their costumes. All the Empress's ladies wear red velvet trains, embroidered in gold. People seemed to be coming in all the time. Deputations from the provinces, officials of Moscow, officers, chamberlains, a moving mass of colour. The costume of the Popes was gorgeous—cloth of gold with very high jewelled mitres.
We waited some time before the ceremony began, but there was so much to see that we didn't mind, and from time to time one of the officials came and stood with us a little, explaining who all the people were. The whole church was hung with red, and red carpets everywhere. Just in the middle there was a high estrade, covered with red velvet, and a great gold baldaquin with Imperial eagles embroidered on it. It was all surrounded by a gold balustrade, and on it were the two thrones. A little lower on the same estrade were the places of the Princes of the family, and the Foreign Princes.
A little before 9 the Imperial family began to arrive. Almost all the Grand Duchesses in trains of drap d'argent, bordered with sable, and magnificent jewels. Then there was a great sound of trumpets, and cheering outside (those curious, suppressed Russian cheers), and they told us the Emperor and Empress were coming. They were preceded by an officer of the Chevalier-Gardes, with sabre-à-nu. The Emperor was in full uniform, with the blue ribbon of St. André. The Empress quite simple in white and silver, the Imperial eagles embroidered on the front of her dress; no diadem, no veil, nor jewels; her train carried by 4 pages, her hair quite simply done—she looked so young, quite like a school-girl. Then followed a glittering suite of Princes, officers, etc.
The service was very long, the chanting quite fine; the men have beautiful, deep voices—I cared less for the intoning, they all end on such a peculiar high note. I didn't like the looks of the Popes either—the long beards worried me. Of course the real interest was when the Emperor took the crown from the hands of the Pope (kneeling before him) and put it on his own head. He looked a magnificent figure, towering over everybody, as he stood there in his Imperial robes, cloth of gold lined with ermine, and a splendid jewelled collar. The crown looked high and heavy—made entirely of jewels.
His two brothers, Grand Dukes Wladimir and Alexis, put on his robes. The Grand Duke Wladimir always stands close behind his brother. He has a stern, keen face. He would be the Regent if anything should happen to the Emperor, and I think his would be an iron rule.
As soon as the Emperor was crowned the Empress left her seat, came to the middle of the platform, made a deep curtsey to the Emperor, and knelt. Her court ladies then gathered around her, and put on the Imperial mantle, also in cloth of gold lined with ermine, and the same jewelled collar like the Emperor's. When she was dressed, the Emperor, stooping low over her, put on her crown, a small one made entirely in diamonds, raised her and kissed her. As she stood a moment she almost staggered back under the weight of the mantle—the 4 pages could hardly hold it.
Then the long procession of Princes and Princesses left their seats on the estrade, and passed before the Sovereigns. First came his two brothers, Wladimir and Alexis. They kissed the Emperor, then bent low before the Empress, kissing her hand. She kissed them each on the forehead. Next came the two young Princes, in uniform like their father, wearing also the blue ribbon of St. André, and the little Grand Duchess (aged 10) in a short white dress, but the Kakoshnik.
It was a pretty sight to see the children bowing and curtseying low to their parents. Some of the ladies' curtseys were wonderful—the Arch Duchess Charles Louis extraordinarily graceful (I wonder how I ever shall get through mine—I am certainly much less souple than these ladies). When they had all passed the Emperor went alone into the chapel to communier, and receive the sacred oil—the Empress remained kneeling outside.
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 course all couldn'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 to have 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.
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 that two Masters of Ceremonies held that.
It was really a wonderful sight, like a picture in some old history of the Moyen Age. As soon as the 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 have been if any member of his Embassy 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.
