RUSSIANS, COMMON AND PREFERRED
THE Grand Duke was always very good to me. He liked talking English with my sister and me, and always referred to the Germans as "they," never as "we." He asked me to the palace one evening to dinner. We dined in a room hung with portraits of his beautiful sisters. They looked like fair angels, the portraits having been painted when both the Czarina of Russia and her sisters were quite young girls. We were told by friends that the Czarina used to be perfectly exquisite as a young woman, usually gowned in pale grey with a huge bunch of violets. After dinner we went up to the Grand Duke's own private music room where guests were seldom invited. The piano was set high, on a hollow inlaid sounding box, an idea of His Royal Highness's which improved the tone immensely. Behind it on the wall was a life size painting of a Buddha-like female figure. This was in creamy brown and gold, inlaid with chrysophrases, and lit mysteriously at will from either side, on top, or bottom. The lighting he preferred, and which he told me he used when he played for hours—he knew not what—was provided by four rings of glass, suspended horizontally from the ceiling, through which a radiant sapphire light poured. I don't know how it was managed, but it was very beautiful. In one corner of the room was a grotto, also blue lit with a charming, quiet, nude figure, and a fountain that drip-dripped as you listened.
I sat down at the piano and played and sang all the negro melodies my father had collected in the Bahamas years before. I think the guests were rather bewildered by the swift pattering English, but the Grand Duke and his cousin, the Princess Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein were charmed with them. Princess Victoria and her mother, Princess Christian, King Edward's sister, were afterwards good enough to be patronesses at my first recital in London.
The Grand Duke loved beautiful Oriental effects, and never seemed to me to be in the least German. He came to a supper-dance once, given by a Baronin O——, dressed as an oriental potentate of sorts. He kept the several hundred guests, and the good dinner waiting over an hour, because he insisted on making up the whole court himself. His wife wore a wonderful headdress she made herself, copied from the fresco in his music room. It was all gold beads and emeralds. Round her neck was a huge pear-shaped green stone. I was thinking of the chrysophrases I had seen inset in the wall of the music room, and said: "What wonderful chrysophrases, Your Royal Highness." "Not chrysophrases, emeralds," she gently corrected me.
The Baroness had engaged some people to entertain the Grand Duke at supper, served in the huge new ball-room, but two days before the ball, she telephoned she was in despair as the people had abgesagt, and she could get no one else. Would I be so awfully kind as I was coming anyway, to help her out? Every one in town knew all my intimate songs as I had sung them at various functions where the court was invited, so Marjorie and I had to put on our thinking caps to find a new "stunt." Marjorie played the Laute, that big, graceful instrument so popular with the love-sick girl in Germany, and I knew some old French songs like "Claire de Lune," that I sang to her accompaniment. I went to the theatre and borrowed the tenor's Pagliacci costume, whitened my face and dressed Marjorie as a Pierrette. At a given signal I sprang from between purple curtains, put my finger to my lips, turned and beckoned to Pierrette and led her to the little stage the Baroness had built. The songs went off very well, and the day was saved. Later I changed to a Dalila costume, and danced with the Grand Duke, dances he invented as we went along, a favourite amusement of his. He always held his partner to the side, with one arm about her waist, and I must say it was very practical and comfortable. He danced beautifully and his favourite partner was a tall Fräulein von B—— a friend of ours. Once returning from a concert in a little town in the Bergstrasse where I had been singing, and which had been attended by part of the court, this same Hofdame and a famous violinist happened to be with us. We took fourth-class tickets which entitle you to travel with the peasants in large wooden box-cars, with benches running round the walls. We all danced to the violinist's playing, while the peasants looked solemnly on from their benches. I collected pfennige in a hat which the violinist then put on his head, pfennigs and all. It was a lovely trip.
We heard some of the formal court balls were most amusing. We never went to them as we had not had ourselves presented formally, though this could have been easily arranged. The supper usually consisted largely of ham and spinach, typical of the German Royal simplicity. The dancing was conducted under difficulties. Reversing was not allowed, and all the dancers had to go in the same direction. When the Grand Duke wished to dance, his Chamberlain went in front of him to clear the way, as it was always dreadfully crowded. The women were not permitted to pick up their gowns, although trains were de rigueur and no short skirts allowed. As nearly all the men are in uniform, including spurs, the ladies have to make frequent trips to the dressing room to repair damages. And yet it is fatal to wear an old gown, as the Grand Duke has a terrific memory and will say: "Oh, that is the charming gown you wore at Kiel two years ago, isn't it?"
All the officers and their wives above the rank of Major must be invited to the court balls, and, in a small principality like this, those of lower rank receive invitations too. One Lieutenant, a member of one of the oldest and poorest Darmstadt families, brought his bride to her first court ball. She was pretty, but beneath him in social position, and he had forgotten to tell her the rule about the trains. She lifted her bridal finery out of the way of the devastating spurs, and was politely requested by a messenger from Royalty to drop it again. Alas! She forgot the warning and again switched her train up from the floor, upon which the oldest Ehrendame (Maid of honour), requested her to leave the dancing floor. The poor husband felt it so keenly that he asked to be transferred to a regiment in another town, and his request was granted.
They have a custom of choosing an erster Taenzer for every big ball. He is usually one of the young officers of the highest birth, and his duties are to assist the hostess in every possible way, and lead all the dances.
Court etiquette is really a most hampering institution. In talking to the Grand Duke for instance, I might not introduce a topic, he had to give all the leads. This naturally has a deadening effect on the conversation. At first the tongue-paralyzing "Yes, Your Royal Highness," "No, Your Royal Highness," even more paralyzing in German, "Ja wohl, Koenigliche Hoheit," "Nein, Koenigliche Hoheit," had to be gone through with, but after a few minutes' conversation I might follow the simple English custom in talking with Royalty, and say "Yes, Sir," or "No, Sir." When the Grand Duchess left a crowded ball-room it was painful both for her and for us. As she advanced, modest and self-conscious, one made a low Knix; to one lady she would give her hand, always bristling with rings, and you had to kiss the back of it, risking cutting your lip on the rings; to another merely a glance of the eye, or a nod of the head, and so the slow, tortuous exit was made. In the town on muddy days, you might come on the Grand Duke suddenly in a narrow street and you had to back up against the wall to let him pass, at the same time dragging your best skirt in the dirt in the knee-straining curtsey.
I often thought how immensely popular would be the Prince or Grand Duke or King, who would one day say, "Oh, stop it, all of you, and give me your hands and your eyes like human beings." But what would the Kaiser say?
Before we went to Darmstadt the Grand Duke had had a tragedy from which they said he had never recovered. His adored little daughter Elisabeth was the idol of every one, and the town children's fairy princess. She was asked to visit her aunt, the Czarina, at Petrograd. While there she died very suddenly, though in perfect health when she left Darmstadt. She is believed to have eaten some poisoned food prepared for the Czar's own children. A monument to her in the Herren Garten at Darmstadt, shows a glass coffin of the fairytale type; in it lies sleeping "Snow-White," with the gnomes around her. Above, a weeping willow brushes soft fingers over the sleeping princess.
We had several Backfisch admirers; the English "Flapper" comes nearer to translating this strange word than anything I know. These girls followed us closely in the streets for a year and finally met us. At first my sister had her band and I had mine. Finally they dwindled to just two, very sweet, charming young girls, of whom we became very fond. Marjorie's was the daughter of a colonel, a count, who was very strict and military with his delicate flower of a girl.
As I have said, strange revealing glimpses of the Hun element came to us now and then, the spirit which now seems to engulf all the better German people. Two of our girl friends were daughters of a famous noble house. Their father was a very old General who lived in great seclusion. His pretty, fair daughters L—— and E——, were often at our house, and were very fond of my mother who lived with us then. The old General finally died, and the girls were worn and bent with grief from his long illness and the trials of nursing him. Their brother was with his regiment, and for some reason could not get to them in time to make arrangements for the funeral. The girls were left badly off, and could not afford a pretentious ceremony. When they tried to explain this to the undertaker, he was incredulous, but finally said with a brutal sneering laugh: "Of course you can have a pauper's funeral if you want one." Everything was done in a way to make it all as hard as possible for the poor girls by these brutes, and they used to come and tell us with floods of tears of the insults they had to swallow. At last the brother arrived, and of course as soon as he appeared in uniform he was bowed down to and served as only a uniform is served in Germany by such brutal types.
During the second year in October word came to us that the Czar of Russia was coming to rest with his family at the Grand Duke's hunting lodge, just outside Darmstadt. We were nervous at the thought of all the Russian students who always throng the Technical School at Darmstadt. It seemed such an easy thing to bomb a man in such a small quiet town. They took great precautions, however, and nothing happened.
I sang many times for the Czar, in "command performances" of Dalila, etc. When he left he was good enough to send me a brooch "as a remembrance of his wife." It is the Imperial crown, with sapphire eyes, surrounded by a laurel wreath. He used to sit in a box nearest the stage with the Grand Duke. In the next box were the little Grand Duchesses, Olga, Tatiana and Marie, and sometimes Anastasia, the littlest one of all. They would call in the intervals, "Papa, come in here; do Papa dear." They always spoke English together. He would go to them and they would climb all over him, petting him and playing with his hair. It was rather charming to watch.
Prince Henry of Prussia was there too, as these three, the Grand Duke, Czar, and Prince Henry are, or were, fast friends. When they left the theatre a curious crowd always gathered to see them, but we never had so much as a glimpse of them, for five black, mysterious motors, closely hooded, left in a procession, and no one ever knew which one the Czar was in. The Czarina never came to the theatre; she was intensely nervous just then, and went nowhere.
The Czar was to leave Darmstadt on the Monday, and on Sunday we were to sing "Meistersinger" for him. The day before I had felt frightfully ill, and suffered as I had been doing for several weeks with pains in my side. Sunday morning I sent for a doctor, the pain being so bad I was afraid I would not be able to get through the performance that night. The doctor in turn sent for the surgeon, who packed me off in an hour to the hospital for an appendicitis operation. The next morning I was operated upon, and they told me the Grand Duke had sent to ask how I was, as the Czar wished to know if the operation was successful before he left town. I thought it showed a charming, kindly thoughtfulness of others.
The nurses were all most kind to me in the hospital, but the surgeon was utterly uninterested in anything but the healing of the wound itself, and paid absolutely no attention to the other rather distressing occurrences of my illness. One could see that a highly strung, nervous American woman would have fared badly with him.
Sazonoff was with the Czar's suite, and I remember the Darmstadtites were much insulted because he always took the train to Frankfurt half an hour away, or to Wiesbaden (one hour), for luncheon or dinner, as he said there was nothing fit to eat at the local hotels. I secretly quite agreed with him.
We often went ourselves to Frankfurt for tea, or a wild American craving would come over me for lobster or chicken salad, and we would up and away to Wiesbaden for supper. Darmstadt was very conveniently situated for short trips, surrounded as it is by interesting towns—Heidelberg only a short distance south of us, or Mannheim close enough for a day's visit. I sang Niklaus in "Hoffmann" in Mannheim for the first time without a rehearsal, having learnt the part in my room at the piano without a Kapellmeister to give me the tempi, and never having seen the opera. That was a trying experience, not helped by the tenor knocking me flat down in the Venetian scene as I rushed on to tell him that the watch was coming. He weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds, and colliding with him in midcareer, I gave him right of way by going down flat on my back.
At Frankfurt we heard a wonderful performance of "Elektra" with Richard Strauss conducting and Bahr-Mildenburg as Klytemnestra. I shall never forget her in it, nor the orchestral effects Strauss produced. I felt at the end as if I had been watching an insane woman, so marvellous was Bahr-Mildenburg's portrayal of the half-demented creature. Her large face, pale, with haunting, sick eyes, her scarlet, gold-embroidered draperies, the clutching, bony fingers on her jewelled staff, the swaying body she seemed barely able to keep erect, the psychology of the queen's character, all this together combined to give the exact effect she wanted, and to convey it strongly and clearly to the farthest seat in the big theatre.
We grew to know very well a Russian boy, whose family had interests in Darmstadt. He told us much of Russia and he and his sister seemed creatures of a different world to us. She was frail and exotic looking, with very curly, bronze hair, a skin like a gardenia petal, and the tiniest full-lipped, blood-red mouth I have ever seen. At home she spent most of her time in the saddle or in the stables. She had men's uniforms made, and rode out with the officers dressed as they were. They could both drink enormous quantities of Bowle and follow it up with champagne and Swedish punch, and never even flush pink. Only S—— used to become very talkative and spout Greek verses by the hour. At that time we lived in a pension, and every Saturday night or after a big performance of mine, say "Carmen," he would arrange an elaborate fête. Sometimes we all had to appear dressed as Romans in sheets and wreaths, before he was satisfied. One night I remember I grew tired of our all being so monotonously beautiful, and came down dressed as a Suffragette, with the false nose I wear as the Witch in "Haensel und Gretel," flowing grey locks, spectacles, and some ridiculous costume, half Greek and half witch. S—— was so horrified that he never once looked at me during the evening and I finally saw that he was so genuinely unhappy that I changed to something more esthetic.
He had as much spending money apparently as he desired, but his sister never had a cent. She had no evening gown and only shabby clothes. She seemed blissfully unaware of any shortcomings of her wardrobe, however, and only once felt the lack of a party dress. We arranged something for her that time, as she had no money to spend, and her brother did not seem to think it necessary to give her any. After a particularly successful fête, S—— would wander the deserted streets and kneel before fountains in the public squares, dipping water from them with his derby hat, and pouring it on the earth as libations to Pallas Athene, as he always called me. And he was not in the least drunk, if you will believe me, only fearfully Russian.
When they left the pension their luggage at the station consisted of a pile of shabby hand-baggage, mostly newspaper parcels. The girl had no purse but a soldier's little coin case of goatskin, so Frau von A—— emptied her own bag, and stuffed L——'s possessions into it. Their indifference to all these things which would all have been regulated and in keeping with their position if they had belonged to any other country than Russia, I believe was quite typical and seemed to me rather sublime.
S—— afterwards made a trip round the world. Goodness knows how he found out whether I was singing or not, but some night after singing one of my big rôles I would receive a monstrous basket of red roses, or an armful of orchids, cabled for from Honolulu or China. He even remembered my Dachshund's birthday, and cabled the baker to send Peter a wonderful Torte with birthday candles.