London,
June 24, 1887.
Yesterday I had rather a quiet day, I was still so dead tired after the children's fête. Jean and I drove about in the afternoon. She wanted to see the "Black Queen," as the Queen of the Sandwich Islands is called, and we crossed her once or twice driving in the Park. It does look funny to see her sitting up in the Royal carriage with red liveries. We had a beautiful ball last night, given by Lord and Lady Rosebery at Lansdowne House for all the Royalties. The House was beautifully arranged; the ballroom panelled half way up the wall with red roses and green leaves. I danced a quadrille with the King of Greece, who is easy and talks a great deal; he speaks English perfectly well. He asked about the Schuylers, and spoke most warmly of them—said Schuyler was one of the few perfectly intelligent men he had ever met, "knew everything about everything," I must write it to them. The supper was very well arranged, small tables of eight or ten. Almost all the Royalties were there, but not the Hawaiian Queen. I asked our host why he hadn't invited Queen Kapiolani; but he said he really couldn't. The ball was small, and Lady Rosebery left out many of her friends, who naturally were not pleased. W. actually stayed to supper—I was so surprised, as he hates it.
June 24, 1887.
This afternoon all the swells went to Ranelagh to see a polo match, but I thought I would reserve myself for the Palace Ball. The Queen didn't appear, but we had two others, the Queen of the Belgians, and always Kapiolani. It was badly managed at first, the result being that when the Court came we had a crowd of people, officers, pages, etc., about four deep in front of us, so that we could neither see nor be seen, nor hardly move. When the first "quadrille d'honneur" was being danced we saw nothing, so after a consultation we all left the ball-room. Then there were various "pourparlers," and they finally did what they should have done at first, enlarged the circle, so that we were out of the crowd and near the Court. There was also a great rush at supper, so that they had to shut one door for a moment. I didn't see many people to talk to, but of course it was very difficult. The Grand Duchess Serge looked beautiful, with splendid emeralds (she is the daughter of Princess Alice), and the Duchesse de Braganza (daughter of the Comte de Paris) was charming, so very high-bred, tall and slight, with a pretty little dark head. I always find the Princess of Wales the most distinguished looking. She stands out everywhere. Our "Doyenne," Countess Karolyi, was superb—also with magnificent jewels. The Indian Princes made a great show, of course, with their silk, heavily embroidered tuniques, and the quantities of jewels, but they are not often well cut, nor well set, and they themselves are certainly off color—they look barbarians, and have such false faces—I wouldn't trust one of them.
London,
July 3, 1887.
It is delicious summer weather now, and yesterday we went to Buckingham Palace to see the Queen review the Volunteers. I wore for the first time my Jubilee Medal. It came Friday with a note from the Duchess of Roxburghe saying the Queen hoped I would wear it as a souvenir of her Jubilee. It is a plain little silver medal about the size of a two-shilling piece, with the Queen's head on one side and an inscription on the other, fastened to a bow of blue and white ribbon. We three Ambassadresses are the only women of the Corps Diplomatique that have it. All the Queen's household have it, Duchesses of Bedford, Buccleuch, Roxburghe, etc. The Princesses, also, of course, but theirs are in gold.
It was most amusing waiting in the courtyard of the Palace seeing everyone arrive. All the Royalties took up their positions at the foot of the Queen's tribune, and waited for her. Our tribune was on one side of hers, and one for the Indian Princes opposite. The Volunteers looked and passed very well; as it was Saturday afternoon and the shops in London are closed early always Saturday, all the various butchers, bakers, and candle-stick-makers could leave their shops and parade, and extremely well some of them looked; stout, heavy men moving quite lightly and at ease in their stiff uniforms. It was pretty to see the various Princes break away from their places on the Duke of Cambridge's staff and ride ahead of the various regiments of which they are honorary colonels. The Prince of Wales looked well on his handsome chestnut, which is perfectly trained and steps beautifully. The Duke of Connaught is a handsome soldier. We were a long time getting away, but as we had no dinner-party it wasn't of any consequence. It was such a pleasure not to put on a low bodice and diamonds. I always grumble about putting on my diadem—as a rule I never wear anything in my hair, not even feathers (except at Court), and the diadem is heavy. After dinner W. and I went for a drive along the Thames Embankment—our favourite recreation after a long, hot day. There are still people about, and a general air of festivity.
London,
July 21, 1887.
It is just four years to-day since W. came to London. We got back from Moscow and the Coronation the 6th, and almost immediately the Minister offered W. London. My "beau-frère" said he would give us two years when we came over. I wonder how much longer it will last. We had a big dinner to-night, and Lord Lathom, the Lord Chamberlain, was next to me. He said no one could imagine how difficult it had been to arrange everything for the Jubilee ceremonies; that the Queen was consulted on every point, as she knew more about etiquette and court ceremonies than anyone else. One day he had 42 telegrams from her. We told him we thought everything was well managed (except the ball, where all the young officers crowded in front of us, and stepped on our toes, and on our trains). He quite admitted that that might have been better done, but also remarked that he thought the Corps Diplomatique a little exacting; so, as usual, there are two sides to every question.