The Empress Frederick, wearing the Order of the Black Eagle
The last portrait of the Empress by the artist Angeli
We talked a little about French literature—I think she reads everything—and she asked about Bayreuth, were there many French people there. I told her the Director of the Grand Opéra, among others, who wants to have the "Meistersinger" in France, but Mdme. Wagner is rather unwilling—the choruses, she thinks, are too difficult either to translate or to sing with the true spirit in any other language. The Empress said, "She is quite right; it is one of the most difficult of Wagner's operas, and essentially German in plot and structure. It scarcely bears translation in English and in French would be impossible; neither is the music, in my mind, at all suited to the French character. The mythical legend of the Cycle would appeal more to the French, I think, than the ordinary German life." I daresay she is right. When she congédied me I talked some little time to Prince Solms, Reischach, and others. Then it was getting time for us to go, as we had to take the 4.30 train back to Frankfort. I was standing by the window, from which there is a fine open view over plain and woods, when the Empress came up to say good-bye. She supposed I was going back to France, where I would find my boy. "You are very fortunate to have him still with you; it gives such an interest to your life." She kissed me, and then said sadly, "My task is done—I am quite alone." I watched her go out of the room, across the hall, and up the great staircase, with her long black dress trailing behind, alone—as she said. It must be an awful solitude for her—living there in her beautiful house, filled with art treasures of all kinds, and with friends near all summer at Hombourg, Wiesbaden, etc., who are only too happy to go to her—but her real life is over, and she is as far away from Germany and the throbbing pulse of the nation as if she were a cloistered nun.
The Val Prinseps came away with us, and we made a bout de chemin together until they branched off to Hombourg. He has quite the same idea of the Empress; says "elle se ronge," that she had always had such aspirations and wanted to do so much for the intellectual life of Germany. Mary and I got to Frankfort in good time, and home for dinner. We were glad to prowl about in the garden after dinner, when it was deliciously cool and the air heavy almost with the scent of roses, of which she has quantities. We saw the Rhine and the lights of Mayence in the distance. I suppose this place too I shall never see again, as I think Mary has made up her mind to sell Meingeningen. I think she will settle in Ireland if she can get the old Townshend place where she was one summer. It is ideal, close on the sea, with a splendid park rising up behind the Castle, but will be a great change for her.
To H. L. K.
South Pavilion, West Cowes,
August 9, 1900.
We are becoming accustomed, Dear, to the wind and rain and a general damp feeling. I don't think I have been really dry since we left Paris. I live in my serge dress and a waterproof. I should have been quite comfortable if I could have changed with the other one, but Bessie Talleyrand is disporting herself in it. When we arrived we found everyone in mourning for the Duke of Edinburgh, the first days not so marked, but since the Osborne has arrived with the Prince and Princess on board one sees nothing but black, and Bessie was much disgusted, having only blue. The steam launches and boats go all day between the yachts and the shore. Everyone, men and women, wears those remarkable yellow mackintoshes; you can't tell them apart, and the boats look as if they were loaded with great yellow "ballots." The two American yachts, Nahma, Mrs. Goelet, and Itwana, Mr. Armour, are splendid, enormous steamers and beautifully kept. Yesterday after lunch Bessie and I started in the wind and rain to drive over to Osborne and write ourselves down for the Queen. I am afraid I sha'n't see her, which will be a great disappointment to me; but the ladies here tell me she is much affected by the Duke of Edinburgh's death, and after all, the Prince has only just got back from his funeral. The drive through Cowes is not very interesting, through dirty, smelly little streets; but once over the ferry (which one crosses in a boat large enough to take the Queen's carriage with four horses) it is pretty enough, up a long hill with fine trees and a few places. We didn't see the Castle, as of course we were stopped at the gates, which were open, with a policeman standing just inside. The park looked fine, grass and flower beds beautifully kept. We wrote ourselves down and I left a card for the Duchess of Roxburghe, who is in waiting. We went for tea to the Club garden, and there I saw the Duchess of Roxburghe, who told me the Queen would certainly see me. We dined quietly at home, rather a fancy meal, but we prefer that to going out. There is a nice little dining-room, and Joseph waits. How he gets on down-stairs with the three maiden ladies who run the establishment I don't know. He doesn't speak or understand one word of English and has never been out of France before. He went nearly mad over that remarkable railway journey of ours across country from Eastbourne to Cowes, where we changed about 10 times (all the luggage naturally being transferred each time), lost all our connections everywhere and arrived at Cowes at 10.30 at night, having left Eastbourne at 2. He is much impressed with the uncleanliness of the house, and said to me just now, "Si Madame voyait les torchons sales dont on se sert pour essuyer les assiettes propres, Madame ne mangerait jamais à la maison."
East Cowes,
Sunday, August 12, 1900.
I had two notes this morning, one from Miss Knollys saying the Princess would receive me, and one from Madame d'Arcos saying the Empress Eugénie would like us to come to tea with her on the Thistle at 5. I had rather hesitated about writing myself down for the Empress. I had never seen her, and W. was in such violent opposition always to the Empire that I never saw any of the Imperial family; but Madame d'Arcos said Bessie and I were the only Frenchwomen at Cowes; we had been everywhere—on the Osborne, to the Queen, etc., and it was rude not to do the same thing for the Empress—au fond, I was rather glad to have the opportunity, as I had never seen her. We went to the club garden after church, as I wanted to find a friend who would lend me a steam launch to go out to the Osborne. Lord Llangattock offered his, and also said he would take us to the Thistle for tea, as they were going on board to say good-bye to the Empress (they leave to-night). I wore my black and white foulard and a big black hat with feathers (never a sailor hat), which could go, as the day was fine and the sea smooth. The Princess was not there when I arrived; she had gone to the service on the Victoria and Albert. Miss Knollys appeared and we sat some time talking on deck. I was leaning over the railing when the Royal launch arrived, and I was astounded, after all these years (7), at the appearance of the Princess. Just the same slight, youthful figure and light step. The Duke of York came forward first and talked a little. He was dressed in undress admiral's uniform and looked very well. Then the Princess came, quite unchanged. She was simply dressed, in mourning, and looked quite as she did the last time I saw her, when she was also in mourning (for Prince Eddie). She kissed me, seemed pleased to see me, and we sat on two straw chairs, under the awning on the deck, talking about all sorts of things. She said the Duke of Edinburgh's death was a great grief to them. They were very fond of him, and it was sudden; and spoke most sadly about the Empress Frederick, who seems to be dying, and of a cancer. It seems that she knows quite well what is the matter with her and what is before her, as she nursed her husband through his long malady. Isn't it awful? She spoke about Francis, recalling his first afternoon at Marlborough House, when he was quite small and wept bitterly when the negro minstrels appeared. I told her he was working for diplomacy, and she said she would be much pleased to see him when he came to London as attaché.
