The Sunny Side of Diplomatic Life, 1875-1912 Part 9

Nervous! If he could have given his feelings words he would have said that never in all his life had he been so scared.

The meek lady before him watched him while he was making up his packages and his mind. What he made up was his reluctance to flee from danger and leave the lion-hearted little woman alone.

"I will not go," he said, in the voice of an early Christian martyr.

"You see, sir, this is how it happened," began the woman. "A very nice sailor came to board here, but could not pay his bill, so to settle with me he offered me his pet dog. I thought it a puppy, and as I had taken a fancy to the little thing--he used to drink milk with the cat out of the same saucer--I consented to keep it."

"And he turned out to be a lion? How did you first notice it?"

"Well, sir, I soon saw he attracted attention in the street. He wanted to fight all the other animals, and attacked everything from a horse to a milk-pan. It was when I was giving him a bath that I noticed that his tail was beginning to bunch out at the end and his under-jaw was growing pointed. Then the awful thought came to me--it was not a dog, but a lion! This was a dreadful moment, for I loved him, and he was fond of me, and I could not part with him. He grew and grew--his body lengthened out and his paws became enormous, and his s.h.a.ggy hair covered his head. But it was when he tried to get up in my lap, and became angry because my lap was not big enough to hold him, that he growled so that I became afraid. Then I had bars put up before the door of my back parlor, which was my former dining-room, and I keep him there."

"Do you feed him yourself?"

"Yes, sir, but it takes a fortune to keep him in meat."

"How old do you think he is?" the Dane asked, beginning now to feel a respectful admiration for the lone woman who preferred to give up boarders rather than give up her companion.

"That I do not know," she replied, "but from his size and voice I should say he was full-grown."

"I can vouch for his voice. Will you show him to me?" He had never seen a lion boarding in a back parlor, and rather fancied the novelty. He told the consul afterward that he had never seen a finer specimen of the Bengal lion. To his mistress he was obedient and meek as a lamb.

She could do anything she liked with him; she pa.s.sed her hand lovingly over his great head, caressing his tawny locks, while the lion looked at her with soft and tender eyes, and stuck out his enormous tongue to lick her hand.

The Dane stayed on, like the good man he was. He had not the heart to deprive the little woman of the few dollars he paid for his room, which would go toward buying food for her pet. He himself became very fond of "Leo," and would surrept.i.tiously spend all his spare money at the butcher's, who must have wondered, when he sent the quarters of beef, how such a small family could consume so much--and the Dane would pa.s.s hours feeding the lion with tidbits held on the end of his umbrella.

We were told afterward that the police discovered that the noises coming from the house were not the usual Boston east winds, and, having found out from what they proceeded, suggested that the Zoological Gardens should buy the animal, for which they paid an enormous price.

So the sailor did pay his debt, after all!

CAMBRIDGE, _March, 1880_.

Dear L.,--I love to write to you; my thoughts run away with me, my pen flies like a bird over the paper. You need not remind me of the fact that my handwriting is execrable. I know it, therefore don't waft it across America. Spare me this mortification. Tear the letters up after reading them, or _before_, if you like. When I see the stacks of never-looked-through letters being dragged from one place to the other, tied up in their old faded ribbons, I feel that I do not wish mine to have the same fate.

I read the other day H.'s lively letters full of dash, written in her happy girlhood, and think of her as she is now, the tired mother of six children, without a sparkle of humor left in her, and nothing more spicy in her epistles than a lengthy account of the coal bill or the children's measles. All the life taken out of her for ever! Just deadly dull!

I feel in the above pathetic mood whenever I look out of my window and see the veteran Was.h.i.+ngton elm facing wind and weather, bravely waiting the end. With what care they bolster up its weary limbs, saw off its withered branches, and deluge its old roots! They spend days belting and tarring its waist, trying to destroy the perverse caterpillars; but with all this they can never give it back its fresh and green youth. It goes on patiently year after year putting forth its leaves in spring and coquetting in its summer garb with its younger rivals. In autumn the pretty colored leaves fly away, and it remains bare and grim under its coating of snow and ice. Some day it will blow down, and nothing but the monumental stone will be left on which future generations will read, "Under this tree George Was.h.i.+ngton first took command of the American Army, July 3, 1775."

If I stay in Cambridge long enough I shall become a beacon of wisdom.

Every one is so learned. If I happen to meet a lady in the street she will begin to talk of the "old masters" as if it were as natural a subject of conversation as the weather.

Was.h.i.+ngton, _March 23, 1880_.

Johan has this moment received the news that he is transferred to Rome.

We feel dreadfully sad to leave Was.h.i.+ngton and all our dear friends.

Our good Schlozer would say "_Que faire? La diplomatie a des exigences qu'il ne faut pas negliger_."

The Queen of Denmark writes, "I hope that you are sure that I never omit to name your husband when a change is coming on in diplomacy, and I hope soon to see something advance to fulfil my wish. Alas, no great benefit to me personally, as you will not live in Copenhagen, but you would come here in an easier way, and you would be in Europe. Farewell, dear Lilly, farewell, and think of me as I of you. Yours.... Louise.

The King's best compliments."

From this I fancy it was the gracious Queen whose finger pointed to the post Rome. This will be the last letter you will get from me from this side of the Atlantic, as I am going to be very busy--as busy as the bee I only hope that people will let the busy B.

ROME, 1880-1890

ROME, PALAZZO ROSPIGLIOSI, _December, 1880_.

Dear Mother,--We are now almost settled in the Eternal City, after a process which has seemed to me as eternal as the city itself, and I am so far established as to be able to take up the threads of my new life.

The first of these will be this letter to you.

We found an apartment in this palace which is large and comfortable. It looks onto the Piazza Quirinal on one side, and on the other into the courtyard, where we see the procession of tourists with red Baedekers under their arms, filing into the Palazetto to admire the famous "Aurora."

Johan had been received by King Umberto before I arrived. The ceremony seems to have been full of splendor and surrounded with etiquette. A magnificent gala coach drawn by two splendid horses brought Signor Peruzzi (master of ceremonies), accompanied by an escort of carabineers, to the Hotel Bristol, where Johan was stopping, attracting a large crowd in the Piazza Barberini--less than this is sufficient to collect gazers-on in Italy, where the natives pa.s.s most of their time in gazing at nothing at all.

As the carriage entered the _grande cour_ of the palace, the guards presented arms and the military band played. A second master of ceremonies met Johan at the foot of the princ.i.p.al staircase, while the Grand Master of Ceremonies waited for him at the head of it.

Accompanied by these gentlemen, Johan pa.s.sed through the long gallery, which was lined on both sides by the civil and military members of the household. At the extreme end of the gallery stood the prefect of the palace, Signor Visone, who preceded Johan to the King's apartment and retired after having announced him to his Majesty. This seems complicated, but you see it takes all these functionaries to present a Minister to a King.

Johan had prepared his obligatory speech about _les bonnes relations_ which had always existed between Italy and Denmark, and so forth, but the King did not give him the opportunity to make any speech at all. He held out his hand and said in a most friendly and cordial manner, "_Je suis bien content de vous voir, et j'espere que vous vous plairez parmi nous_." His Majesty then asked Johan about King Christian, and spoke about the visit he had made to Denmark some years ago. Before the end of the audience Johan succeeded in making the King accept his _lettres de creance_, and presented the greetings of King Christian; but the speech remained unspoken.

The contrast seemed very striking between the ceremonious manner in which he was conducted to the King, and the simple and unconventional manner in which he was received by his Majesty.

Yesterday I asked for an audience with the Queen. The Marquise Villamarina (the _Grande Maitresse_) wrote that the Queen, though desiring to see me, thought it better to defer the audience until after the reception of the _Corps Diplomatique_, which was to take place in a few days. I am rather glad of the few days of rest before the first of January, as I am completely tired out.

_January, 1881._

Dear Mother,--The great event of the season has just taken place! The _Corps Diplomatique_ has been received by their Majesties at the Quirinal, and I have made my first official appearance and worn my first court train. This splendid ceremony took place at two o'clock in the afternoon, a rather trying time to be _decolletee_ and look your best. In my letter from Paris I told you about my dress made by Worth.

It really is quite lovely--white brocade, with the tulle front--all embroidered with iridescent beads and pearls. The _manteau de cour_ is of white satin, trimmed with Valenciennes lace and ruches of chiffon. I wore my diamond tiara, my pearls on my neck, and everything I owned in the way of jewelry pinned on me somewhere.

Johan was in full gala uniform--the red one--on the back of which was the chamberlain's key on the blue ribbon.

On arriving at the Quirinal we drove through the _porte-cochere_ and stopped at the grand staircase, which was lined all the way up by the tall and handsome guards, dressed in their brilliant uniforms.

We were received in the _salon_ adjoining the throne-room by the Marquise Villamarina and the _Prefet du Palais_. In crossing this _salon_ one lets one's train drag on the floor and proceeds, peac.o.c.k-like, toward the ballroom. It seems that this is the proper thing to do, as it is expected of you to allow all beholders to admire your train and to verify its length. It must be four and a half yards long. I was told that the train of one of the diplomatic ladies last year was not long enough, and she was officially reproached. She excused herself by saying that she thought it would go "_that once_,"

but she found that it didn't go, and it was considered very disrespectful of her to disregard the court's regulations.

On entering the ballroom you pick up your train and go to your place--for every lady has her place according to her _anciennete_. I, being the wife of the newest Minister, was naturally at the very end, and next to me was the newest Minister himself. While waiting for their Majesties you let your train fall, and it lies in a heap at your left side.

Behind each lady was a red-velvet _fauteuil_, in which she could rest for a moment, if her colleagues would screen her from public view by "closing up," according to military language. We did not, fortunately, have long to wait. The doors were opened and their Majesties entered.

The ladies courtesied low, and the gentlemen bowed reverentially.

I was quite overcome by the Queen's dazzling beauty and regal presence.

She wore a beautiful dress of very pale salmon-colored satin, embroidered in the same color. A red-velvet _manteau de cour_ covered with heavy embossed silver embroidery hung from her shoulders. Her jewels were handsomer than anything I had ever seen before, even more magnificent than those of the Empress Eugenie. The King and Queen separated. The King turned to the _doyen_ of the _Corps Diplomatique_, talked a long time with him, and then pa.s.sed on, having a word for each gentleman, not overlooking even the youngest secretary.

The Queen went directly toward the Countess Wimphen, the _doyenne_, and, holding out her hand, leaned forward as if to kiss her cheek. The Amba.s.sadress sank almost to the ground. Then the Queen talked with all the Amba.s.sadresses and to the Ministers' wives. Madame Westenberg, the wife of the Minister from Holland, being the _plus ancienne_ of these, stood, full of importance at the head of her flock. The Queen's ready mind found something of interest to say to every one, and she seemed br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with conversation. There were continual glances between their Majesties, as if they were mutually comparing notes, which I fancy were something like this, "You'd better hurry, or I shall finish before you do."