Letters of a Diplomat's Wife, 1883-1900 - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
Letters of a Diplomat's Wife.
by Mary King Waddington.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
BY THE COLLECTOR OF THE LETTERS
Mary Alsop King Waddington is a daughter of the late Charles King, President of Columbia College in the City of New York from 1849 to 1864, and a granddaughter of Rufus King, the second Minister sent to England by the United States after the adoption of the Const.i.tution.
Miss King was educated in this country. In 1871, after the death of her father, she went, with her mother and sisters, to live in France, and in 1874 became the wife of M. William Henry Waddington.
M. Waddington was born in Normandy, France, in 1826. His grandfather was an Englishman who had established cotton manufactories in France, and had become a naturalised French citizen. The grandson, however, was educated first in a Paris _lycee_, then at Rugby, and later at Trinity College, Cambridge. As an under-graduate he rowed in the Cambridge boat in the University race of 1849. Soon after leaving the University, M.
Waddington returned to France and entered public life. In 1871 he was elected a representative from the Department of the Aisne to the National a.s.sembly, and two years afterward was appointed Minister of Public Instruction in place of M. Jules Simon. In January, 1876, he was elected a senator for the Department of the Aisne, and two months later again became Minister of Public Instruction. In December, 1877, he accepted the portfolio of Minister of Foreign Affairs.
M. Waddington was the first plenipotentiary of France to the Congress of Berlin in 1878. On February 4, 1879, he became President of the Council (Premier), retiring the following December. In the winter of 1879-1880 he refused the offer of the London Emba.s.sy. In May, 1883, he was sent as Amba.s.sador-Extraordinary to represent France at the coronation of the Czar Alexander III at Moscow, and upon his return from Russia was appointed Amba.s.sador at the Court of St. James to succeed M. Tissot. He held this post until 1893, and died in Paris in the following year.
Mme. Waddington accompanied her husband on his missions to both England and Russia. The letters collected in this volume were written during the period of her husband's diplomatic service to describe to her sisters the personages and incidents of her official life. About a fourth part of their number have lately been published in _Scribner's Magazine_; with this exception, the letters are now given to the public for the first time.
#Tompkins McIlvaine.#
#New York#, April 1, 1903.
PART I
THE CORONATION OF THE CZAR
_To G. K. S_.
#Paris#, 31, Rue Dumont d'Urville, March 15, 1883.
Our breakfast at the English Emba.s.sy was most interesting. I began by refusing on account of my mourning, but Lord Lyons wrote me a nice note saying that there would be no one but the Leon Says and Mr. and Mrs.
Gladstone, so I accepted. I was very anxious to see Mr. Gladstone.
We had a pretty little breakfast upstairs in the small dining-room, and the talk at table was most interesting. I thought Mrs. Gladstone looked older than her husband. He of course did most of the talking. He has a fine voice, bright, keen, dark eyes, holds himself very erect, and apparently knows everything about everything. When the men were smoking after breakfast I had quite a talk with Mrs. Gladstone, who told me about the murder of Lord Frederick Cavendish. She said her husband heard it at a big London party, and had to go and tell Lady Frederick. Mr.
Gladstone was more upset by the whole thing (and the having to tell the unfortunate wife) than she had ever seen him. Il y avait de quoi, for even here in Paris, where _outside_ questions don't trouble them very much, there was great excitement when the news came.
I had a nice talk with Plunkett, who congratulated me on W.'s[1]
appointment as Amba.s.sador to Vienna. I told him there was no truth in the report (they had offered it to W., but he won't hear of it), and I think he is quite right. He has no particular _attaches_ at Vienna. He knows German well, but doesn't speak it absolutely perfectly, and hasn't really the social talents that one needs in Vienna. They ought to send a das.h.i.+ng general, or a courtier, not a serious savant.
[1] W. here and throughout these letters refers to Mme. Waddington's husband, M. William Henry Waddington, "G. K. S.," "H. L. K.," "A. J. K."
and "J. K.," to whom the letters are addressed, refer to Mme.
Waddington's sisters, Mrs. Eugene Schuyler, Miss Henrietta L. King, and the late Miss Anne J. King, and to her sister-in-law, the late Mrs.
Cornelius L. King.
We certainly are leading different lives. I am wrapped in my fur coat, and driving in a shut carriage. Your tea in the garden sends a s.h.i.+ver through me. It sounds quite romantic having the son of the "Roi des Montagnes" to breakfast. I wonder if I shall ever see Athens; W. says when I do that I will never care again for Rome; that colouring and ruins are far superior in Greece. I almost think in that case I would rather remain under my present impression of dear, beautiful Rome, not quite like our American friend, who thought "the Colosseum was pretty, but she liked the Court-House at St. Louis better."
#Paris#, Sunday, March 18, 1883.
I will write a little this morning, Dear--I am just back from l'etoile.
I have had rather an agitated week, and here is my news, good--bad--I don't know myself. W. is going as Amba.s.sador Extraordinary to Moscow to represent France at the Coronation of the Emperor Alexander. It was a "bolt from the blue" to us. I will tell you from the beginning. We went to ride as usual Thursday morning, but rather earlier than usual (9.30).
When we came home Mdme. Hubert told us we hadn't been gone ten minutes, when le Ministre des Affaires etrangeres (Challemel-Lacour) came to see W., was much discomposed at not finding him, and told Mdme. H. he would come back at 11. He didn't reappear, but one of the young attaches did, with a note from Challemel begging W. to come and see him directly after breakfast. We couldn't think what he wanted, but we both made up our minds it was to insist on the Vienna Emba.s.sy. I protested, and I think W. would not have taken it.
I went out in the afternoon with Anne to try on a dress at Redfern's, and just as we were coming away W. appeared. He had seen the carriage at the door and knew he would find us. He looked rather preoccupied, so I said, "You are not surely going to Vienna?"
"No, not to Vienna, probably to Russia, for the Coronation."
I was too bewildered at first to take it in, and I must frankly say I was wretched. Of course he asked 24 hours to think it over, though the Minister urged him very much to accept at once. Challemel also wishes me to go, says a woman gives more eclat to an Emba.s.sy. Of course it will be a magnificent sight, but I am a perfect poltroon--I am so afraid they will take advantage of that crowd to blow up everybody. However, if that should happen it would be better to be blown up together, but I really am nervous (I am not usually such a coward, but Russian Nihilists and dynamiters are terrible elements to contend with), and wish they hadn't asked him to go.
Of course it is a great honour and compliment to W.'s personal position, and I have given no opinion, but I don't feel happy at all. I have always said that I would never try to influence my husband's actions (public) in any way, and I suppose I have kept to that as well as most women do who marry public men, but I should like to put a decided veto now. I will keep you au courant of the decision.
March 20th.
Well, Dear, it is quite decided. W. accepts to go to Moscow, and takes me with him. He consulted his brother and his friends and all told him he could not refuse. As long as they didn't send a soldier (W. himself would have asked Marechal MacMahon to go, if he had been at the Foreign Office), he was "tout indique."[2] It seems all the other Powers are going to send Princes--Spain, the Duc de Montpensier; England, the Duke of Edinburgh; Italy, the Duc d'Aoste, etc.
[2] After the Berlin Congress and the Foreign Office.
We are to start somewhere about the 8th or 10th of May. W. is busy now composing his Mission. Of course everybody wants to go. It seems such an undertaking. We had a nice ride this morning--various people riding with us, and all talking about the Coronation. I overheard one timid old gentleman saying to W., "Vous emmenez votre femme? Vous avez tort; on ne sait pas ce qui peut arriver"--not very rea.s.suring.
April 1st.
My Dear, my letters will now become monotonous, as I have only one idea--the Mission. All the arrangements are being made, such an affair.
W. has sent off a man to Moscow to see about a house big enough to hold all the party, with ballroom, and large dining-room We are 9 people--W.
and I; Comte de Pontecoulant, Ministre Plenipotentiaire (W.'s ancien Chef de Cabinet); General Pittie (General de Division, chef de la maison militaire du President de la Republique); Colonel Comte de Sesmaisons, commandant les 6eme hussards; Francois de Corcelle, Secretaire d'Amba.s.sade; Commandant Fayet (de la maison du President--Jules Grevy); Richard Waddington, Depute, Capitaine dans l'armee territoriale; Robert Calmon, lieutenant dans l'armee territoriale. L'uniforme est absolument necessaire en Russie.
We have three servants--W.'s valet Joseph and my two maids Adelade and Mdme. Hubert. All the gentlemen have their servants. Then there is Pierson, the huissier from the Quai d'Orsay (you know whom I mean, the big man who wears a gilt chain, announces the people, and writes down names, etc.), two cooks with one or two garcons de cuisine; 3 coachmen, Hubert of course, and two Englishmen. One, Mr. Leroy, such a magnificent person, came this morning to see W. He has already represente on several occasions, and driven gala carriages, etc. He seems graciously inclined to go with us (with very high wages, and making his conditions--will drive only the Amba.s.sador and Amba.s.sadress in the gala carriage, etc.).
That will necessitate very delicate negotiations with Hubert, who also wishes to drive only the Amba.s.sador and me. However, as he has never driven a gala carriage, and they are very heavy, unwieldy vehicles to manage, I think he must waive his claim.
April 10th.
There has also been a long consultation about horses, how many for the gala carriage. When Marechal MacMahon went as Amba.s.sador Extraordinary to the Emperor of Germany's Coronation he had six horses and running footmen (it seems there must be six or two--four are not allowed. Four would be too sporting--not serious enough). We have four enormous footmen, and one ordinary sized one for every-day use--2 gala carriages, and a coupe d'Orsay, which must be painted dark blue with white stripes, our colours.
April 12th.
We are getting on slowly. The horse question is settled--no one has more than two, so we take 9 enormous carrossiers. Hawes is commissioned to get them. They could not be found anywhere in France. I forget the exact height (as big as they make them), but he promises to get them from England, or the Luxembourg, where it seems they have a special breed of enormous, heavy coach horses.
We had a most satisfactory interview this morning with M. Lhermite, the head man of the great restaurant, Potel & Chabot. W. had been rather bothered about a head man, or major domo, who could take charge of the whole household. Our Joseph is not very brilliant--he does W.'s service, and can look after an ordinary household, but would not be at all up to the mark in this case. Lhermite heard that W. was looking for someone, so he came and volunteered to go with us, and superintend everything. He was so well dressed and had such good manners that W. rather demurred, and thought he was above the place; however Lhermite pressed it very much, and wound up by saying, "J'ai ete cuisinier moi-meme, Monsieur, personne ne vous servira mieux que moi." So it was settled, and he has full powers to engage cooks, scullions, etc.
The man who went to Moscow has just sent us the plan of the house which he has found. It seems large and handsome, a good entrance, marble staircase, large ballroom and dining-room, and sufficient bedrooms. It calls itself "Maison Klein," not a palace; and is evidently the house of a rich Jew.
Sunday, May 6th.
I am glad to have a day of rest, Dear. I didn't even get up for church.