The Sunny Side of Diplomatic Life, 1875-1912 Part 27

But Nina and I were not to be balked by such a trifle as Edward Grieg's wishes, and with some difficulty we managed to unfasten the hasp of the wooden gate. We expected to see a dragon or a ferocious bulldog fly at us, but all was peaceful within, and we walked into the lair without being molested, and marched boldly to the front door of the villa.

There Mrs. Grieg opened the door to us and was (she said) delighted to see us. "And," she added, "how happy Grieg will be, too!" This, we thought, was doubtful, but Grieg pretended to be very "happy."

We stayed as long as we dared, and, on being offered tea and cakes and urged to stay longer, we were shown, as a great privilege, the little summer-house at the bottom of the hill where Grieg retires when he wishes to compose, and where Mrs. Grieg or any other angel dare not to tread. He has a grand Steinway. This is about the only American thing which Grieg does not hate. He said that he would have been a rich man if America had given him a royalty on his music, which is, as he said, played in every house in America. They bemoaned that they were overrun by American lady reporters. That was the reason they had put that notice on the gate--to keep them off the premises. They would beg, he said, "just to look at the garden and pluck a little _ukrut_ [weed], and then go away and write all sorts of nonsense, as if they had dragged all my secrets out of me. They are terrible," he added, "your lady compatriots."

[Ill.u.s.tration:

FACSIMILE OF LETTER FROM GRIEG

A LETTER FROM GRIEG [Translation.]

CHRISTIANA, _Nov. 30, 1891_.

My wife's and my own heartiest thanks for your kind telegram. I received it eight days too late by a perfectly incomprehensible and unfortunate mistake, but the joy over your greeting was none the less therefor. We remember so often and so willingly the beautiful time in Rome where you showed us so much kindness. We hope and wish to have a glimpse of you at not a too distant day, perhaps in Stockholm. With best greetings to your husband from us both.

Your devoted

EDWARD GRIEG.]

Grieg played some of his latest compositions, which were perfectly exquisite, and played them as only he can. He was full of fun, and told us of an American songstress who had been one of those who had "got in." She insisted on singing for him "_Jeg elsker dig_"

and made a cadenza of her own at the end. He said Mrs. Grieg almost fainted, and that his own hair had not finished standing on end ever since. He played this awful cadenza for us, and I must say it was ridiculous. Mrs. Grieg sings delightfully--_nothing but Grieg, of course_. She has not a strong voice, but sings with exquisite pathos and charm.

Grieg loves to talk of his rude behavior and dwell with pleasure on his brusque speeches. He said a young American lady asked him to teach her one of his songs, and after she had sung it he turned round on the piano-stool and said:

"Are you singing for your living?"

"No," she answered, "I sing for my pleasure."

"Don't you think that dancing would be pleasanter?" he asked.

It was evident that they saw us go with regret; we certainly left them with regret. They looked, as they stood there together waving farewell, like two little gray elves; she with her short gray dress and short gray hair; and he with his long gray coat and long gray hair--a Grieg study in gray.

STOCKHOLM, _September, 1894_.

Dear L.,--Just as I was going to get a little rest, who should come to Stockholm but the Prince of Naples? I begged him to give us one evening before he left, which he promised to do. He seemed as glad to see us as we were to see him.

"What would your Highness like best," I asked him, "an official dinner followed by a reception, or a little dinner with a dance?"

"Oh, madame, the little dinner and a little dance, by all means."

So a little dinner it was. He does not care for dancing, but he knew the lancers and quadrilles, and we danced those. We played "Fox and geese"; I fancy, from seeing his amus.e.m.e.nt, that he had never had a real romp in all his life. To finish, we danced a Virginia reel. This was new to him and pleased him immensely. He insisted upon going through the entire dance until every couple had done its part.

A few days later King Oscar sent me the decoration of _Litteris at Artibus_, which I shall wear on great occasions. This decoration is a gold medal, and the ribbon that goes with it is blue. Queen Christina of Sweden inst.i.tuted the order. The medal is only given to women of merit, artistic or literary. Jenny Lind, Frederika Bremer, and Christina Nillson, and others have it.

I have become the _doyenne_ of the Diplomatic Corps. I intend to make my colleagues walk very straight. So far my duties consist of dancing in _quadrilles d'honneur_ and always being taken into supper before every one else, and having the first place everywhere; I take precedence of all guests. These honors do not turn my head.

STOCKHOLM, _April, 1897_.

Dear L.,--We have been named to Paris.

Never did people have such a time getting away from a place.

All our furniture except a sofa and two chairs had been packed, and was already on the way to Paris.

The entire morning I was busy receiving notes and bouquets of all dimensions, tied with every imaginable national color.

We breakfasted with our colleagues from Germany, who had the apartment above us. While still at table a royal chamberlain announced that King Oscar was coming in half an hour to bid us good-by. Heavens! How could we receive his Majesty without carpets or curtains, only the sofa and two chairs! What a predicament! But our good and kind friends came bravely to the rescue. They offered to send down rugs, palms, and flowers, so that we could receive our royal guest in the curtainless room. Well, the palms and plants did certainly make the room look more inviting. J. camped on the one chair, and the King and I sat on the sofa. The King stayed half an hour. We were as sorry to leave him as he was to have us go. He kissed me on my forehead, and kissed J. on both cheeks, and said, "I shall come to Paris to see you."

J. escorted the King down-stairs and put him in his carriage, while I wiped away a tear.

The royal visit over, our borrowed plumes were returned. Hardly was the apartment bare again when there came a court lackey telling our bewildered valet that the "Crown Prince would be at the house in a short moment." Our colleagues most amiably sent the rugs, etc., down again, and we sat in state and waited.

The Prince came, bringing a large photograph of himself, and said many nice things, expressing his sorrow that we were going to leave Stockholm, and bade us good-by.

The time was gradually approaching when I should put on my hat to depart.

There were still a lot of things to be attended to at the last moment. Our people had to be bid good-by and paid, and thousands of trifles, as you may imagine, to be thought of, and I began to despair of getting away. I seriously proposed to J. to pretend to leave, bidding people good-by at the station, and stop at the first place, to return the next morning and finish quietly what seemed so impossible to do then.

What was our dismay, then, at receiving a telephone message from Prince Carl, asking if I could receive him. Of course, I answered I would be proud, and our colleagues above, learning of this new complication, sent, without begging, the useful and ornamental things which had adorned our _salon_ before.

Prince Carl came. He brought me a little bunch of lilies-of-the-valley, intending a gentle allusion to my name. We were very sad at the idea that we were to part, but part we must, and pretty soon. The tired rugs were taken back once more.

Prince Eugen kindly telephoned that he wished to say good-by. It was already so late that there was no question of the rugs, for it was within an hour of our departure; therefore we were obliged to receive the Prince without any accessories. He came with a little offering of flowers. However, that did not make any difference, because we all stood up. It is the custom here in Stockholm that every one goes to the station to speed the parting guest. The station was overcrowded. We were showered with the good wishes of two hundred and fifty people, and flowers were in such quant.i.ties that we had to have an extra compartment for them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A LETTER IN ENGLISH FROM KING OSCAR]

PARIS, 1897-1902

PARIS, _May, 1897_.

Dear L.,--I can hardly believe that we have been here a month. The time has slipped by, as it has a way of doing when one is frightfully busy; in my case it was particularly exasperating.

Johan's secretary took rooms for us at the Hotel Chatham, which was not a very good choice, as you will see.

The day for Johan to present his _lettres de creance_ was fixed for the 20th of April. M. Crozier, the gentleman who introduces Amba.s.sadors and Ministers to the President, appeared with two landaus, escorted by a detachment of the _Garde Nationale_.

The little courtyard of the hotel could not contain more than the carriages; the hors.e.m.e.n were obliged to stay in the very narrow rue Daunou, which they filled from one end to the other.

While the two gentlemen were exchanging their greetings I slipped out and walked down the rue de la Paix, which I found barred from the rue Daunou as far as the rue de Rivoli.

I felt very proud when I thought from whom it was barred.