Letters of a Diplomat's Wife, 1883-1900

by Mary King Waddington

Tuesday, June 19th.

We had a charming afternoon yesterday at Cronstadt on the Lancaster, Admiral Baldwin's flag-ship. He had invited all the Corps Diplomatique, and the few Russians who are still in Petersburg, Jomini, Struve, Benckendorff, etc. We started about 3.30 in the regular Russian steamer, and once under way the breeze was delicious. I wore my white batiste with Valenciennes, and a big black hat (which wasn't very practical on the steamer, as the wind blew the feathers about considerably, but I thought it looked so nice with the white dress). The American ship looked beautiful as we drew near—an old-fashioned frigate, all dressed with flags. The getting on board was not very easy, as she lay far out, and we had to get into small boats from our steamer and go out to her. It didn't look very pleasant when they put the steps down and told us to jump. There were fair waves, and when they told us to jump the boat was apparently nowhere near, but of course swung under the steps on the top of the wave at the right moment. Lady Thornton got down all right, so did I; but one of our colleagues had a most trying time. She was stout and nervous, looked wretched when she was standing on the steps between two strong sailors who told her to jump. She did her best, poor thing, and several times we in the boat below saw a stout white leg suddenly descend, but it was immediately drawn back, and she never let go of her sailors. Her husband, man-like, was furious, which of course made her much more nervous; however, after several attempts she gave it up, and they lowered her in an arm-chair, which didn't look quite comfortable either when it was suspended in the air waiting for the boat to arrive.

We danced about well in the little boat, for every time it came up, and she didn't come down, we had to go back and repeat the performance. The American Legation got off first and were received by a salute of 15 guns, and then we followed. The Admiral with all his officers received us at the top of the ladder, and the band played our national airs, and they gave the Ambassador's salute, 17 guns, and a great noise it made just over our heads as we were mounting the ladder. Lady Thornton and her husband were in front of me, and I heard the "God Save The Queen"—then came the "Marseillaise," and for a moment I forgot I was a Frenchwoman and looked to see whom the "Marseillaise" was for (W. hadn't come in the boat with me, waited for the second one), but I recovered myself in time to bow and smile my thanks.

I was delighted to find myself on an American ship, I so rarely see American officers of any kind. The ship was in splendid condition, so beautifully clean. We had a very handsome dinner in the Admiral's cabin. He took me down to see the table before all the guests came, and very pretty it looked, quantities of flowers and some handsome silver. No one enjoyed the day more than Mgr. Vannutelli. He had a little doubt about coming, as he heard there was to be dancing, and consulted us about it. We told him the dancing would be mild, and he might never have a chance to see a big American ship again, and strongly advised him to come.

While Lady Thornton and I were sitting together one of the young officers came up to her (she knew several of them, as they were some years in Washington) saying he heard one of the Ambassadresses was an American, did she know which one, and could she introduce him. "Certainly," she said, "it is Madame Waddington, wife of the French Ambassador, who is sitting next to me now," and immediately presented the young man, who said he had been looking at all the ladies to see which was the American, but hadn't placed me, he supposed because he heard me speaking French. We became great friends, and he took me all over the ship. We danced a little on deck—a quadrille d'honneur—I with my friend Schimmelpenninck, Lady Thornton with Jaurès, Madame Jaurès with Admiral Baldwin. Then we left the dancing to the young ones and sat quietly on deck till it was time to go. Just as we were starting the Admiral asked me if I would say a few words to the band—they were almost all Italians. I went over at once and talked to them, so did the Nuncio, which of course delighted them.

We started back about 9 in a special Russian steamer. The sea was much calmer, and the getting off one boat and on another was not such a difficult operation even for poor Mdme. A——. The sail back was about two hours—quite enchanting in that beautiful northern twilight, and we were all sorry when it came to an end.

This morning it is very warm, and I am rather seedy, so I have stayed quietly at home. Richard and I breakfasted tête-à-tête, as W. was off at an early hour to his medals, and won't be back until dark. I wonder if the Russian officials will be as astonished at his capacity for a long spell of work as the Italians were. They struck after two days of such work, and then took it in turns. One day at Milan I went to get him at the end of the day, as we were going to drive somewhere in the country, so the Italian smiled all over, and almost winked, saying, "Ah, Madame est venue voir si Monsieur était vraiment aux Médailles toute la journée." I suppose he felt that he wouldn't have stayed working all those hours, and also quite understood that I suspected W. of doing something else.

We have had a nice visit from Benckendorff, who has told us all about the boat we want to take to go to Stockholm. He says they are Swedish boats, very clean, and very good food; also very few people at this time of the year.

Now I must dress and go with Richard to pay some visits. Calmon will go and see you and give you all our news. He won't tell you what I will, that he had a great success in Moscow—his artillery uniform, the astrakhan tunique, was very becoming—all the ladies found him "très beau garçon." I must add too that Richard also had a great success—evidently artillery uniform is becoming. It was rather amusing to see the face of one of the young ladies when I made some reference to Madame Richard Waddington. "M. Waddington married—I never should have dreamed of it"—and after a moment, "What is his wife like?" doubtfully. "Is she pretty?" "Well, yes, she is very pretty." Richard won't tell you that either when he comes back, but I shall tell Louise.

How curious all the Moscow life will seem when I am settled again at Bourneville—walking in the park with the children, riding all over the country with W., and leading an absolutely quiet life. I hope I shall remember all I want to tell you.