Letters of a Diplomat's Wife, 1883-1900 Part 8

This afternoon we have been sight-seeing with Benckendorff, first to the Kremlin to see the private apartments of the Emperor and Empress. The Court, with all the foreign Princes and their suites, left last night after the revue, and already one sees the difference in the streets. The crowd of peasants has disappeared, there are fewer carriages, flags and draperies are being removed from all the buildings, and the circulation is so easy that one can scarcely realize that only yesterday that brilliant throng was making its way with difficulty through the long, straight allee to the Champ de Mars. It is very warm, the sun blazing, and the white dust very trying; however we went about a good deal. We saw the Romanoff house, an ordinary boyar house, with low, dark rooms and a funny little winding staircase, but it had evidently been quite done up (in the style of the epoch of course), and I didn't find it very interesting.

We went into numerous churches and towers, and wound up with a visit to the Monastere Siminoff, from where there is a splendid view over the city. We saw the Director, who came out and showed us everything. We dined quietly at home with the Emba.s.sy only. After dinner, when smoking in the serre, the soldiers began talking, fighting their battles over again--all that horrible time between the Commune and Versailles, where one of our Emba.s.sy, Fayet, was wounded. It is always interesting when they talk seriously like that, but, Heavens, how they shot people at the end, it makes one shiver.

To-morrow will be a busy day, as all the packing must be done. One of the French couturieres here will send a packer, and will come herself to help the maids. Lhermite, with his cooks, footmen, etc., start Wednesday morning early. They must cook us our last dinner Tuesday night. Hubert, too, with carriages, horses, etc.

_To H. L. K._

#Amba.s.sade de France a Moscow#, #Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska#, Monday, June 11th, 1883.

Well, Dear, this is my last letter from Moscow--you will certainly never again have any letter from Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska, and I suppose I shall never see Moscow again. The court is again most lively (it is certainly an unfailing interest to me, and I am always looking out of the window). Someone has come from one of the Grand Dukes, Michel, I think, to see the big horses. Hawes was very anxious we should sell them in Russia, if we could get a fair price. They have always excited much attention and admiration, but they are very big, and here the Russians are accustomed to a much smaller race, prefer three small ones to one larger pair. I don't know either if they could stand the climate. There seems to be a perfect army of helpers packing carriages, saddles, harness, and all the stable equipment. Mdme. Gille (my couturiere) has arrived. She has made me a very nice little blue foulard shirt, I couldn't stand my cloth body these hot days, and yet must travel in that dress, as I have no other. When I think of the furs that have always remained at the bottom of one of the trunks--so many people told me that it would be impossible to be in Russia in May and June without furs. It is fair to say that Mdme. Jaures told me it was freezing still the morning they left Petersburg--which seems incredible now. I send back all my big trunks and swell garments with the Huberts.

I shall keep out only one or two dinner dresses for Petersburg. Poor Mdme. Hubert is rather sad at leaving me, and going back to France without having seen Petersburg, but of course I don't want two maids any longer.

This afternoon I went out with Richard for some last shopping. The city is completely changed--not a creature nor a carriage, nor servants in livery, nothing but a deserted city. We met the Austrian Amba.s.sador walking about in a blue flannel vest and a pot hat. The courts of the Kremlin were meconnaissables, not a soul, hardly a soldier--one or two small detachments of Cossacks at the gates. It is an extraordinary change in such a short time. It has become a sleepy little provincial town.

We had two or three gentlemen to dinner, M. d'Orval, ancien officier de Cha.s.seurs, just back from a tour in the Caucasus with the Duc de Chartres, and a Russian merchant for whom Richard had letters--the first person I have seen in Russia who was neither n.o.ble nor peasant. Both men were interesting enough. The Russian talked prudently, but fairly openly--said there must be a great change--things couldn't go on as they did now, there was a young generation to be reckoned with, active, educated, intelligent, and they must have their say--that when the uprising came there would be a Revolution such as Europe had never seen.

I wonder.

After dinner we went to the Hermitage, the great public gardens. They are pretty enough, large, with trees and bosquets, and every variety of amus.e.m.e.nt--theatres, concerts, dancing, and even conjurors. Some shepherds from the Wladimir Government with long yellow cloaks and high hats were playing a sort of reed pipe, curious enough. At last I heard some of the Russian national songs--a quartette was singing them in one of the theatres. They are very pretty, monotonous, with an undercurrent of sadness. They sang very true, and the voices are rich, not at all the thin, high northern voice that one expected to hear. We stayed there so long, looking at the various things, that we didn't get home until 12.30--much the latest entertainment I have been to in Moscow, except the Palace ball, where the supper of course prolonged the festivities.

Monday, June 11th.

It was so warm to-day and I had so much to do with the trunks--separating the things--that I only went out after tea, and of course did a little more shopping. I wanted some photographs and also some music--however Benckendorff said he would see about that for me.

We dined quite alone with the Emba.s.sy--a good dinner perfectly served, tho' Lhermite leaves to-morrow. He came up to get his last instructions from W. while we were having tea. His experiences are most amusing--he says he has learnt a great deal of the language and the Russian ways of doing business, and if ever he comes back he will know how to take care of himself. He became quite excited at remembering various occasions when he had been "roule."

After dinner W. and I went for a last drive, to look at the Kremlin by moonlight--and beautiful it was--the sky was so blue one could almost see it like the Italian summer sky, and all the great white buildings and towers stood out gloriously. The great church of St. Basile was extraordinary. The colours, pink, green, red, yellow, all so vivid that even at night one quite made them out. It is a ma.s.s of towers, domes, and cupolas, every one different in shape, work, and colour. It was planned and executed by an Italian architect, and the story is that the Czar (of the epoch) was so pleased, and at the same time so afraid he might make another like it, that he had his eyes put out. It was curiously dark and quiet inside--scarcel any light; here and there a glimmer high up in one of the Palace rooms. We met two or three carriages with colleagues driving about in the moonlight like ourselves.

The river, too, looked beautiful from the terrace--a broad silver band with moonlight full upon it. I took a last look at the black Madonna in the gateway, and the little guard of Cossacks. I shall often think of that last night in the Kremlin when I have returned to civilization and modern life.

I will send this off by to-morrow's courier. My next letter will be from Petersburg. My little boudoir still looks very nice. The little Russian maid is rather sad, and has been in and out 20 times, lighting candles, opening and shutting doors and windows, and keeping up a stream of conversation which I can't possibly understand, though the maids say they do. W. is deep in last despatches, and has departed to his own quarters. I haven't learnt any Russian, which I think is rather weak on my part. I thought I would have some lessons at first, but I don't think I could have learnt much in two weeks. Lagrene was discouraging--says he knows very little, and his mother is a Russian.

_To H. L. K._

#Hotel Demouth, Petersburg#, Jeudi, 14 Juin, 1883.

We arrived here last night at 12.30. The journey was comfortable enough, but long--the Russian trains do not go a terrifying pace. We left Moscow at 9.30, and the Maison Klein a little before 9. The depart was quite imposing--all the personnel drawn up at the foot of the stairs, Lhermite and the three coachmen outside at the door, and a regiment of understrappers of all kinds. The little Russian maid was weeping and kissing my skirts. The faithful Benckendorff accompanied us to the station and saw us safely deposited in our wagon-salon--each Amba.s.sador had one and a smaller one for the suite. Two Chamberlains, not attired in velvet and gold lace this time,--I felt rather aggrieved at having ordinary mortals in plain clothes to look after us--were waiting at the station to see that everything was well done, and they went with us to Petersburg. There was a Mongole at the door of our wagon who appeared at intervals with tea, oranges, and much information of all kinds (in Russian). We had all our meals en route--breakfast at 11, dinner at 4.30, a nondescript sort of meal, half gouter, half supper, with cold fish, fowl, mayonnaise, etc., at 8--and a very pretty little tea at 10.30. We all partook of every meal--how we managed to eat chicken and mayonnaise at 8, having dined at 4.30, seems a mystery, but we did.

It was very hot at starting--the sun pouring down on the plains that are around Moscow--not an atom of shade, but there was a sharp shower about 2 which cooled the air. They tell us Petersburg too is very hot. The day pa.s.sed quickly enough. Many of our colleagues came and paid us visits. The Nuncio sat a long time. He is most interesting, with that delightful, simple, easy Italian manner. He asked us a great deal about the religious ceremony the day of the Coronation. He had only arrived after that. He is very clever and sympathetic, ready to talk about anything, and so moderate in his views. I think he would have a great success in Paris, where people love to discuss and a.n.a.lyze everything.

Our Spanish colleague also came and sat with us. It seems he wanted W.

to come to his carriage and drink champagne and play cards (very high play too), but it was conveyed to him that these were not exactly M.

Waddington's tastes. Rumour says he was naively surprised, and said, "Comment, il ne joue pas!--le pauvre homme!" They were certainly a very merry party--we heard roars of laughter every time the train stopped.

If anyone was losing heavily he took it most cheerfully.

Our last little tea at 10.30 was really very pretty--several round tables very well arranged with flowers, tea, orangeade, and other drinks--cakes, pet.i.ts fours, etc. (but no more solid food). W. struck and wouldn't get out, but Richard and I and the rest of the men were quite ready to see what was going on. Do you remember how I always loved getting out at all the buffets at no matter what time of night, when we used to go down to Italy every year? I think the buffet at Bologna with its "fricandeau de veau" is one of my most interesting souvenirs of travel (not from an artistic point of view).

The arrival at Petersburg was curious. It was quite light, and there were as many people at the station and in the streets as if it were 12 o'clock in the day. We read distinctly the names and numbers of the streets and the signs of the shops, and yet it wasn't altogether daylight--more like a late summer afternoon. We found very comfortable rooms here--a large salon with large bedrooms on either side, and a room next to me for Adelade. I was quite ready to go to bed--the heat and dust were trying, and yet it seemed funny to go to bed by daylight. They brought tea of course, but we really couldn't do any more, so I departed to my own room. There I quite lost the impression of daylight, as there were double, even triple curtains to all the windows.

This morning we slept late and breakfasted at 12.30, then W., Richard, and I went off in a carriage to the Hermitage (the great Museum). W.

sent in his card to the Director of the Museum and also to the head of the Cabinet des Medailles, as he wants a week's work at the medals. It seems there is a splendid collection here. The gentlemen were very civil, and we made rendezvous for to-morrow, W. for the medals and Richard and I for the pictures. The Hermitage is an immense museum.

We shall only be able to have an idea of what is in it. We walked through some of the rooms--Peter the Great's gallery, which is full of course of souvenirs--his clothes, arms, tools, furniture, horse stuffed, etc., and in another there were quant.i.ties of bibelots of all kinds, and presents given to Peter and Catherine II--a collection of snuff boxes, crystal flagons, and goblets (some with precious stones encrusted in the gla.s.s), jewelled belts and caps--most interesting.

We had our first view of the Neva from the windows of one of the rooms.

It rushes past like the sea, so broad and strong, with very fair waves, a splendid river. We stayed about an hour lounging through the rooms, and then went on for a general view of the city. It is very handsome, but has no particular cachet (except the Neva) at this season of the year--one ought to see it in winter when the river is frozen and the real winter life begins. It looks so modern after Moscow. We went to the great cathedral of St. Isaac. It is very big and imposing as a ma.s.s, but the architecture not very striking--afterwards to the fortress and church of St. Peter and St. Paul, where all the Emperors are buried--to Peter the Great's house (a most ordinary little wooden building), drove a little along the quais, where the lovely fresh breeze from the river was most welcome and invigorating after the heat and dust of Moscow.

There was a good deal of life on the river, boats of all kinds. We think of going by steamer to Stockholm, all along the coast of Finland. They tell us it is a beautiful journey, particularly at this time of year, with the long, clear evenings. I want to see the boat before we decide, as I have an idea that it wouldn't be very clean (they say the boats on the rivers Volga, etc., are something terrible). We wound up in the Perspective Nevsky--the great shopping street, but didn't get out of the carriage, merely drove through. The shops look handsome and the vitrines well arranged, just like Paris. There was very little animation in the streets and very few carriages. They tell us many people have already gone away for the summer.

We dined quietly at the hotel, and just as we were finishing Admiral Jaures came in to suggest that we should dine at Peterhof to-morrow afternoon. He says it is a very nice excursion--a short hour on the boat, and we can get a fair dinner there. About 9.30 we started again in the carriage to drive to the Islands or "La Pointe"--the great rendezvous in summer of all Petersburg. It is a long hour's drive, crossing quant.i.ties of small islands all connected by bridges, and one finally arrives at the "Pointe," end of the drive, and entrance of the Gulf of Finland. There all the carriages draw up, the people get down and walk about, or sit on the benches at the water's edge--a regular salon--in summer one sees all the people who are still "en ville" there.

The place in itself is not at all pretty. The water of the Gulf is grey, the banks low, no trees--but the air was delicious.

We met almost all our Moscow colleagues--also Princess Lise Troubetzkoi, who was delighted to see W. and plunge into Paris politics. She wanted us to go back and have tea with her, but it was 11 o'clock and I was tired, having been going all day--evidently that is what people do, as several of our colleagues too asked us, and expressed great surprise at our wanting to go home so early.

We didn't get back to the hotel until 12, and then loitered a little in the salon, as the windows were open, people walking and driving about the streets, and nothing to make us think it was midnight, or at least the midnight we are accustomed to. They brought us some tea, and a little before one, making many excuses, I retired, rather feeling as if I were going to bed with the chickens.

Friday, June 15th.

We have been all the morning at the Hermitage, and I will write a little now after breakfast, before we start for Peterhof. We took ourselves off early in a droshky (Russian fiacre), the porter telling the coachman where to drive to; and telling us how much to give him. It was a lovely morning, not too warm, and we enjoyed our drive. W. was shown at once to the Cabinet des Medailles, where the Conservateur was waiting for him, and Richard and I were taken in hand by a young man attached to the Museum who knew his work well, and was remarkably intelligent, speaking French quite well. The pictures are beautiful--there are quant.i.ties of every possible school. The finest we thought the Van Dycks and the Rembrandts, though some of the Italian Madonnas were lovely too. I like the Italian Madonna face so much--it is so pure and young and pa.s.sionless. Our guide was very talkative, and very anxious to know what we thought of the Moscow ceremonies. We stayed about two hours, seeing all sorts of things "en pa.s.sant" besides the pictures. The whole Museum is crowded--I don't think they could get much more in.

Sat.u.r.day, June 16th.

Our excursion to Peterhof was delightful yesterday afternoon. We took the four o'clock boat, and had a nice sail down of an hour and a quarter. The Jaures came with us, also Pittie, Fayet, and Calmon.

Corcelle went back to Paris from Moscow--also Sesmaisons, so our Mission is decidedly diminished. We met several of our Moscow friends on the boat--General Richter, Comte Worontzoff, and some others. The Court is at Peterhof and they are all established there. They told us the Emperor and Empress were not very tired after the excitement and emotions of the Coronation--very happy that all had gone so smoothly, and now quite pleased to be quietly at Peterhof with their children.

The Russians are very proud of Peterhof, call it a "pet.i.t Versailles,"

and "pet.i.t" it certainly is in comparison; but the park is pretty, well laid out, with terraces and gardens, and the water-works really very good indeed. A very good Circa.s.sian band was playing, and a good many people walking about. What was lovely and quite unlike Versailles were the glimpses of the sea one had on all sides. We got carriages and drove all about. We went into the big Palace, where the present Emperor never lives. He prefers a small place, half farm, half cottage, close to the sea, and lives there quite contentedly and quietly like an ordinary country gentleman. However we couldn't get anywhere near that villa--the gates and alleys were closed, and guards and soldiers everywhere.

We dined very badly at a restaurant we had been told of on the sea, and took the 10 o'clock boat home. The return was enchanting--a beautiful starlight night, and fresh, soft breeze. I had a nice talk with Mdme.

Jaures, who told me a good deal of Russian ways and life. I think she is glad to go back to France, and "au fond" there are very few French women who care to _live_ abroad altogether. After three or four years they get homesick for their own country. She asked me if I was never homesick for America--but I told her I had been so long away, and my life had been such a full one that I sometimes asked myself was I the same little girl that used to run wild in the country at home with a donkey cart and a big Newfoundland dog. Those years seem so long ago the memory is getting duller. Sometimes I shut my eyes and see quite well the big white house with the piazzas, and the climbing roses, the cherry trees, and the white gate with the sharp turn, and the ditch where we upset so often in the sleighs--all the children tumbling out into the snow drift, and n.o.body minding.

We got home at 11.30 and found letters, which we read quite easily at the window. It is a wonderful light--no one ever seems to think of going to bed.

This morning we have been again at the Hermitage to finish the pictures.

Decidedly the Rembrandts are the gems of the collection. There was one old man in a sort of fur robe and cap, with a wrinkled yellow face, whose eyes seemed quite alive, and followed us all round the room. We left W. with his medals and a sort of clerk attached to the Cabinet des Medailles. It seems they never leave anybody alone in the room with the medals. W. is delighted, he has found some rare coins he had never seen, and he means to have a good day's work, will not come back to breakfast with us.

Our young man, Baron Leeven, is always with us, and meets us at the Winter Palace this afternoon to show us the rooms. Our Mission is dwindling; Fayet went off this morning, Pittie and Calmon go Monday.

Richard remains to make the journey with us to Stockholm by sea. We have just come in from a pleasant dinner at the Jaures'. The Emba.s.sy is small, but very well arranged, and we had a very good, handsome dinner.

All the personnel of the Emba.s.sy, Vannutelli and his two auditeurs, and the French Consul and his wife. Admiral Jaures was very hospitable and en train--all sailors are, I wonder why? The officers of high rank must have so many lonely hours, and are such swells on their ships, where no one can a.s.sociate much with them, that one would think it would make them rather silent and reserved from long habit--but it is quite the contrary. In all nations sailors are generally cultivated, and good talkers.

We shall become quite intimate with Vannutelli. We met him at the Winter Palace this afternoon, and went all about together. I can't say I found it very interesting. The rooms are handsome--high, generally white, with quant.i.ties of pictures--the portraits, some very old ones, interesting--the large modern pictures of battles by sea and land less so. I like very much the pictures of Peter the Great. He has a keen, striking face, must have had splendid eyes, very intelligent, in some of the portraits almost inspired, _hard_, not cruel. They were very anxious to show us the rooms where the late Emperor died, but there had been some mistake, and the man who has charge of the room could not be found, nor the key either. I was very glad (not that I should have gone in), for they said it was a horrid sight--the camp-bed and even his clothes left as they were, thick with blood. He was carried there directly after the attentat, and died on the little camp-bed. What I liked best was the splendid view again of the Neva from the windows of the ballroom. It looked a beautiful blue sea, the waves dancing in the afternoon light, and all the white sails standing out well in the sun. The two young men who were with us were most amusing. They showed us all the pictures in detail _except_ those concerning the Grande Armee and the disastrous retreat. We were hurried past them, "rien de tres interessant, Madame--pas la peine de s'arreter----."

Sunday, June 17th.

This morning we went to the French Protestant Church--a large room with white walls, and benches. There were very few people, but they tell us it is fairly full in winter. There is a large French colony--shopkeepers, theatre people, etc., and a great many Protestants. The Pasteur preached a very fair, sensible sermon.

After breakfast we had some visitors--Sir Edward Thornton, who wants us to dine one night; and a nice man, a Russian (whose name I never knew), but who told us to come to this hotel in which he is interested, and who has offered to go shopping with us one day, and show us the best fur-shops. We went for a drive in the afternoon to the Park Catherine, where a sort of fete populaire was going on. There were a great many people, and a great many policemen (as there always are here), one would think they lived in perpetual fear of an emeute, and yet the people all looked so subdued and repressed--I haven't seen one fierce face. The quant.i.ty of moujiks in their red shirts made a good effect of colour, but the women are not attractive, nor pretty. All are wrapped up in shawls, with a handkerchief over their heads.

We had a pleasant dinner at the Hunts' (United States Legation), all their people, including of course George Wurts, whom I was very pleased to see again--Admiral Baldwin and his two Aides-de-camp Rogers and Paul, and M. et Mdme. de Struve. They are just going to America--he is named Minister there. They have been in j.a.pan, and didn't seem very keen about America. I should think they would like it better than j.a.pan, but I believe he hoped for some post in Europe. She was very amusing, and from her account life in j.a.pan must still be very primitive.

We came away early--about 10.30--and have been poring over guide-books ever since, making out our journey, always at the window (11 o'clock at night, and with no lamps).