Letters of a Diplomat's Wife, 1883-1900

by Mary King Waddington

Railway Station, Kiel, 7 A.M.,
Tuesday, July 3d.

We have two hours to wait here, so I will scribble a line to you, which will help to pass the time. We got off very early last night. Some of the young men from the Legation were waiting at the station with a servant to help us with our baggage. It really was not necessary, as we have only two trunks, and the porter of the hotel is most helpful and energetic. It was very warm even at that hour, and the compartment was stuffy, a good many passengers. We got to Korsoe about 11. The boat was directly opposite the station, and we went on board at once. There was some delay getting the baggage on board, so we sat quietly on deck and had our tea, and cooled off. The cabin felt so hot when I went down to leave my things that I couldn't make up my mind to install myself, particularly as the crossing (the Belt) was short, about 5 hours. The Captain said we should arrive between 4 and 5 at Kiel. We stayed on deck till nearly one o'clock. It was a lovely night, the sea quite calm, but a good breeze once outside, which freshened considerably as we drew away from the land.

I went down about one, but didn't get much sleep, and was quite ready to go up on deck when they called me at 4.30, and said we were approaching Kiel. Almost all the passengers were on deck. The approach is not particularly interesting. I heard two gentlemen discussing us in English. They had seen our trunks all labelled Waddington, Couronnement, had taken renseignements from the Captain, who assured them W. was the French Ambassador. They thought he must be mistaken. "That man is an Englishman—he is speaking English now to the lady—I have heard them talking always in English. They certainly are not French." They hovered about us, and then looked rather bewildered, for Adelaïde came up to ask me something, and then W. and I finished our talk in French. We speak sometimes French, sometimes English, it depends upon our milieu.

The harbour is fine as one gets up to it. How hard for the Danes to give it up, and how they must hate the Germans. We got off about 5.30. The city was still wrapped in sleep. We walked about a little, and it was a curious sensation to walk about in apparently a dead town. We had some breakfast at the station, and have been out again. Then (7 o'clock) the town was quite lively, workmen moving about. We shall start in about a quarter of an hour, and have about two hours and a half to Hamburg. The long wait here has been tiresome, nearly three hours. The movement on the water and the quais was amusing, but really until after 7 not a soul was stirring, at least not in this quarter, and no trains coming or going.

To H. L. K.

Hamburg,
Tuesday, July 3d, 1883.

No words can tell, Dear, how uncomfortable we are, hot and cross. We arrived at 11, after a very hot, dusty journey. The town is crammed, even at this hotel where they had kept rooms for us (and such nasty little rooms, a small salon, giving on the street it is true, so that we can see all that goes on, and two minute bedrooms on one side) we can't get our trunks, nor apparently our breakfast. The hotel people are quite affolés. There are races (with a German Prince of some kind either presiding or running horses, I can't make out which), "a horticultural show, a cattle fair, (and an anniversary of something)."

We said we would take a carriage this afternoon and drive about the city, and we might just as well have asked for a balloon—nothing to be had before 7 o'clock. I should think every carriage in Hamburg was out—quantities of all kinds and large omnibuses are passing under the windows, filled with women in light dresses, and a generally festive appearance. They hope to give us one then.

We have had breakfast—the dining-room large, fairly cool, and empty (as it was late everyone had breakfasted and flown). They brought us the Figaro. The Comte de Chambord is dead, and the Comte de Paris starting for the funeral. Just as we had got upstairs again the man of the hotel came and asked if Madame l'Ambassadrice de France would receive Madame l'Ambassadrice de France. We were rather puzzled, but said of course we would receive anyone who came, and in walked M. et Mdme. de Courcel, and M. de Pina, our Consul here, M. de Sancy, the military attaché at Berlin. We were delighted to see them. The Courcels had been paying a visit to the Duke of Sagan in his splendid place, and, being not far from Hamburg, had come on to see the town. They were going to the races with M. de Pina, and wanted us to come, but we didn't care to (and indeed I don't know how we should have gone, as they had a small carriage which just held them, and we had none). M. de Pina asked us to dine with the Courcels at 8.30, and that we were very glad to do, as the prospect of a dinner in the big dining-room, with all the crowd of hungry people back from the various festivities, was not alluring. Pina told us as we couldn't get a carriage we had better take one of the small steamers that ply about in the inner harbour, and have an hour's sail. He was sure we would find it pretty and interesting. It would certainly be cooler than sitting in that stuffy little salon.