Is Polite Society Polite? and Other Essays

by Julia Ward Howe

TWO DRAMAS
In the Bacchus theatre,
With the wreck of countless years,
The thought of the ancient jollity
Moved me almost to tears.
Bacchus, the god who brightens life
With sudden, rosy gleam,
Lighting the hoary face of Age
With Youth's surpassing dream,
The tide that swells the human heart
With inspiration high,
Ebbing and sinking at sunset fall
To dim eternity.
———
In the halls where treasured lie
The monumental stones
That stood where men no longer leave
The mockery of their bones,
Why did I smile at the marble griefs
Who wept for the bygone joy?
Within that sorrow dwells a good
That Time can ne'er destroy.
Th' immortal depths of sympathy
All measurements transcend,
And in man's living marble seal
The love he bears his friend.

It would take me long to tell how much Athens has been enriched by the munificence of her wealthy merchants, whose shrewdness and skill in trade are known all over the world. Of some of these, dying abroad, the words may well be quoted: "Moriens reminiscitur Argos," as they have bequeathed for the benefit of their beloved city the sums of money which have a permanent representation in the public buildings I have mentioned, and many others. Better still than this, a number of individuals of this class have returned to Greece, to end their days beneath their native skies, and the social resources of the metropolis are enlarged by their presence.

This leads us to what may interest many more than statements concerning buildings and antiquities,—the social aspect of Athens.

The court and high society, or what is called such, asks our first attention. The royal palace, a very fine one, was built by King Otho. The present King and Queen are very simple in their tastes. One meets them walking among the ruins and elsewhere in plain dress, with no other escort than a large dog. The visit which I now describe took place in Carnival time, and we heard, on our arrival, of a court ball, for which we soon received cards. We were admonished by the proper parties to come to the palace before nine o'clock, in order that we might be in the ball-room before the entrance of the King and Queen. We repaired thither accordingly, and, passing through a hall lined with officials and servants in livery, ascended the grand staircase, and were soon in a very elegant ball-room, well filled with a creditable beau monde. The servants of the palace all wore Palikari costume,—the white skirt and full-sleeved shirt, with embroidered vest and leggings. The ladies present were attired with a due regard for Paris in general, and for Worth in particular. The gentlemen were either in uniform, or in that inexpressibly sleek and mournful costume which is called "evening dress."

We were presently introduced to the maids of honor, one of whom bore the historic name of Kolokotronis. They were dressed in white, and wore badges on which the crown and the King's initial letter were wrought in small brilliants. Many of the ladies displayed beautiful diamonds.

Presently a hush fell on the rapidly talking assembly. People ranged themselves in a large circle, and the sovereigns entered. The Queen wore a dress of white tulle embroidered with red over white silk, and a garland of flowers in which the same color predominated. Her corsage was adorned with knots of diamonds and rubies, and she wore a complete parure of the same costly stones. Their majesties made the round of the circle. We, as strangers, were at once presented to the Queen, who with great affability said to me: "I hear that you have been in Egypt, and that your daughter ascended the great Pyramid." I made as low a courtesy as was consistent with my dignity as president of a number of clubs. One or two further remarks were interchanged, and the lovely, gracious blonde moved on.

When the presentations and salutations were over, the royal pair proceeded to open the ball, having each some high and mighty partner for the first contredanse. The Queen is very fond of dancing, and is happier than some other queens in being allowed to waltz to her heart's content.

There were at the ball three of our fellow-countrymen who could dance. Two of them wore the uniform of our navy, and had kept it very fresh and brilliant. These Terpsichorean gentlemen were matched by three ladies well versed in the tactics of the German. Suddenly a swanlike, circling movement began to distinguish itself from the quick, hopping, German waltz which prevails everywhere in Europe. People looked on with surprise, which soon brightened into admiration. And if any one had said to me: "What is that, mother?" I should have replied: "The Boston, my child."

Lest the Queen's familiarity with my movements should be thought to imply some previous acquaintance between us, I must venture a few words of explanation.

In the first place, I must mention a friend, Mr. Paraskevaïdes, who had been very helpful to Dr. Howe and myself on the occasion of our visit to Athens in 1867. This gentleman was one of the first to greet my daughter and myself, when she, for the first, and I, for the second time, arrived in Athens. It was from him that we heard of the court ball just mentioned, and through him that we received the cards enabling us to attend it. I had given Mr. Paraskevaïdes a copy of the Woman's Journal, published in Boston, containing a letter of mine describing a recent visit to Cairo and the Pyramids. Our friend called at the palace to speak of my presence in Athens to the proper authorities, and by chance encountered the Queen as she was stepping into her carriage for a drive. He told her that the widow and daughter of Dr. Howe would attend the evening's ball. She asked what he held in his hand. "A paper, printed in Boston, containing a letter written by Mrs. Howe." "Lend it to me," said the Queen. "I wish to read Mrs. Howe's letter." Thus it was that the Queen was able to greet me with so pleasant a mark of interest.