I am rather lazy this morning and feel as if I had suddenly nothing to do. The comédie went off very well yesterday and was a pretty sight. Until the last moment I was doubtful, as we had so many péripéties. At the dress rehearsal on Thursday, Bianca Deym (Marie Antoinette) was so hoarse she could hardly speak. The girl looked very handsome and distinguished in powder (trés bien coiffée) and one of her mother's handsome Court dresses, but Thénard wouldn't let her speak—said all her part herself, and told Bianca to pay great attention to her voice and gestures. Toupet (Francis), the cruel bailiff, had such a stiff neck and sore throat that he could hardly move—so he was rubbed hard with Elliman's Embrocation and sent to bed as soon as the répétition was over. His costume was very good—coat and long waistcoat of prune cloth—lace jabot—tricorne and gold-headed cane lent by one of his English cousins—a wig of course—which quite changed him. The girls looked charming—I don't know which was the most becoming—the powder and Court dress or the short skirts and high caps of the paysannes. The gavotte went very well. The small children in front and the bigger ones behind. I never could have believed that anyone could evolve anything like a gavotte from the whirling chaos of arms and legs that was my first impression. M. Lecomte (Secretary of the Embassy), who is a very good musician, was at the piano, and marked the time very exactly, which was absolutely necessary for such young performers.
Various friends and Mammas came to look on and criticise—which was what we wanted—and all were pleased. Thénard and St. Genys were quite delighted—and as they have seen it from the first and noted the improvement, that was reassuring. Henry Edwardes came, much amused and slightly astonished at his children's performance (the boy was so good). He told me he considered it quite remarkable. He offered to take charge of the green-room the day of the performance, and I accepted with pleasure, as I am sure the children will be rather excited and probably unruly.
I had a note from Miss Knollys while the répétition was going on saying that the Princess of Wales and her two daughters, Princesses Victoria and Maud, would be present on Friday at the performance. I announced this at once to my young troupe, and they were filled with pleasure and dismay at the appalling prospect of playing before Royalties. I went for a ride Friday morning with Pontavice and when I came in was given a wild note from the Countess Deym saying that Bianca had a complete "extinction de voix" and what could be done. If someone else could take the part (which was impossible at such short notice) she would send all her daughter's dress, which was very handsome, or Bianca would come and look the part and Thénard do the talking from the coulisses. Of course I chose the latter, and sent off Clarisse at once to the Austrian Embassy with a remedy that Mdme. Richard of the Opéra gave me. Francis was all right, his neck quite straight. After breakfast I had a last practice with him and Lecomte for the gavotte. I got in a small piano from Érard (my big one took up too much room behind the scenes) and then I dismissed the whole thing from my mind, and went to dress. I told the children to be there at 4.30 so as to begin the minute the Princess arrived. She said she would come at five.
The little blue salon was a pretty sight when it was filled with all the children in costume. Thénard's Marquis looked too sweet—she had dressed the girl so well in satin coat, ruffles, and silk stockings, and enormous paste buckles on her shoes. She did her part perfectly—so easy, and such pretty French. The Princess came punctually with her two daughters, and the play began at once. I think there were about 100 people—we couldn't seat any more as the stage took up a good deal of room. The prettiest scenes were the Trianon and the Market Place. In the Trianon, Marie Antoinette was seated surrounded by her ladies, and le Marquis telling them "les petites nouvelles de la cour." The child was killing when she took out her snuff-box and made flowery phrases. The Market was very well arranged with flowers and vegetables. Violet Freeman made a splendid old woman at one stall, and Hilda Deichmann did her boy's part very well. After the Queen had made her round (her voice came back, though she was rather hoarse still) she and her ladies retired a little to the background, where the Court made a brilliant group, while the peasants sang their chorus, "Vive la Reine." Then came the gavotte, which really went extremely well. Mrs. Roffy was breathless with recommendations until the last moment. Both chorus and gavotte were encored, and there was much applause when the curtain fell.
Violet FreemanFrancis Waddington
A Comedy for Children at the French Embassy
From a Photograph by Barker & Pragnell London
The Princess, who is always so gracious, asked me what I would like her to do, so I said if she would allow the whole troupe to defile before her I would name each one—and I knew it would give them great pleasure. She agreed at once, so the procession, headed by Marie Antoinette, passed, and the Princess shook hands with every one, talking a little to those she knew. They all applauded when Toupet, with his wig and cane, appeared. Then I named Mdmes. Thénard and Roffy—and I wish you could have seen those ladies' curtseys (Mdme. Roffy's particularly splendid), also St. Genys and Lecomte. The whole thing lasted a short hour, even with the répétition of chorus and gavotte. We had tea in the drawing-room—the children downstairs. The Princess told me she thought it charming—quite wonderful. The only two French children were Francis and the Marquis, but I must say I thought the others quite wonderful. When the Princess went away all the children assembled in the hall at the foot of the stairs, bowing and curtseying—and it was a pretty sight, such a mass of colour and flushed, eager little faces. The Princess told them all again how much she had enjoyed the performance, and it was quite a happy little crowd that dispersed soon afterward to their respective homes. W. complimented Thénard very much, who had given herself no end of trouble—also Mdme. de Langhe, who had undertaken the chorus. Some of the ladies were rather anxious we should repeat the performance for the benefit of some charity, but W. didn't like to have a paying thing at the Embassy; and at one of the public halls it would not have been very easy—some of the ladies objected.
I dined at home, but went to a concert in the evening, and had various compliments for my troupe. The Prince of Wales told me that the Princess had told him it was quite charming. I think on the whole W. was pleased. He was rather doubtful about inviting the Princess—thought it was a little informal, and would bore her, but I don't think it did.