I went downstairs to breakfast, which I don't generally do; I keep to my old habit of a cup of tea in my room. It was a most informal meal. None of the Royal family appeared, except Prince Eddy, who was going to hunt, and his red coat made a nice patch of colour. All the rest of us sat down anywhere, and the servants brought the menu. We travelled up with the Prince in his private car, and had luncheon in the car, served by two tall footmen, and everything on silver plate and hot. The Prince himself quite charming, talking a great deal, and seeing that everyone had enough to eat. I should think all servants, railway guards, and small functionaries generally would adore him. He has always a pleasant word and a smile.
To H. L. K.
Albert Gate,
January 31, 1884.
We have had two days in the country with the D.s at their little hunting box at Bicester, one of the great hunting centres. It was my first experience of an English hunt and hunt ball, and amused me perfectly. The house is small, with enormous stables and splendid horses. His four in hand is well known, one of the best in England, and the coach and servants so perfectly turned out. We have two young German secretaries, good-looking Teutons, and two girls who have just returned from a four months' excursion in the tropics with the Brasseys in their beautiful yacht, the "Sunbeam."
We started on the coach on Tuesday at 10.30, well wrapped up, as there were occasional showers and violent gusts of wind, particularly when we stopped at crossroads to see which way the hunt was going. The meet was at Middleton Park, Lord Jersey's fine place, and the park was a pretty sight as we drove up. A good many people, almost all the men in pink, but not so many women as I had expected to see. We really followed very well, as D. knows the ground perfectly and apparently at what spot the fox was to cross the road, which he did close to us, followed by the whole hunt, all jumping out of the field on to the road and back again into the other field, very good fences, too, but the horses evidently knew just what they had to do. We drove about till 3 o'clock, and then went back to Middleton to have luncheon. We found a most hospitable table, and it was funny to see the people dropping in at intervals, some of the men in their red coats, one or two ladies, and two or three children who had been scampering about on ponies. Evidently the meal had been going on for some time, and the supply inexhaustible; we had a very good hot luncheon.
After lunch Lady Jersey (who is charming, very intelligent, and interested in everything) showed us the house. Beautiful pictures and old furniture, a massive silver table that was the dressing table of Queen Elizabeth. Of course we hadn't time to really see all the interesting things in the house, as it was getting late, and we still had a fair drive before us. Notwithstanding the good and late luncheon we were very glad to have tea when we got home. I certainly eat much more here, I suppose it is the climate, and then the food is a little different from what we are accustomed to, and I think very good.
The hunt ball was really very pretty, the ballroom well arranged with foxes' heads, brushes, etc., all the men in pink. Everyone was "en train," and everybody of all ages dancing. I should think W. and D. were the only men in the room who didn't dance. They went home about 12, but H. and I stayed until 2. We heard afterward that the Master of Hounds was much depressed all the evening, as he knew he must take the French Ambassadress to supper (of course, he didn't know that I was American born, and could speak English), and the prospect of a long conversation in French with a woman he didn't know filled him with dismay. However we made friends (in English), and I hope he didn't find the supper hour too tiresome. There are two reasons why an Englishman hates to speak French; first, a sort of natural timidity which they all have more or less, and then a decided objection to doing anything he doesn't want to do, or which bores him. This country is certainly a Paradise for men, from the nursery days when all the women of the household—nurses, maids, and sisters, are slaves of the boys, to manhood, when equally all the women do exactly what the men want, and regulate their lives to suit the men of the family, who have everything their own way.
London,
February, 1884.
I made my début in the official world last night at a reception at Mr. Gladstone's in Downing Street. There were four large men's dinners (and receptions afterward) for the opening of Parliament. Lord Granville and Mr. Gladstone, Ministerial; Lord Salisbury and Sir Stafford Northcote, "Her Majesty's Opposition."
The Gladstone house is small and dark (that is one of the things that strikes me here—the rooms are so much less lighted than in Paris), and always the chintz covers left on the furniture, which makes the rooms look ordinary. We found a great many people there. The Duke of Cambridge had been dining and was presented to us. He looks a fine old English soldier (was in uniform), was very amiable, and spoke to me in French, which he speaks very well. Quantities of people were presented to me, I can't remember half the names. Almost all the women were in black, half-high and no display of jewels. Mrs. Gladstone is an old lady, very animated and civil, she wears a cap, with blue ribbons, rather as I remember Mother. I was also presented to Countess Karolyi, Austrian Ambassadress, very handsome, and charming manner; she speaks English as well as I do. It seems strange to me to hear so much English spoken, it is so long since I have been in a purely English salon. W. brought me up various old friends of Rugby and Cambridge days; also some of the minor diplomats, as of course I have not yet seen all my colleagues.