We have three servants—W.'s valet Joseph and my two maids Adelaïde and Mdme. Hubert. All the gentlemen have their servants. Then there is Pierson, the huissier from the Quai d'Orsay (you know whom I mean, the big man who wears a gilt chain, announces the people, and writes down names, etc.), two cooks with one or two garçons de cuisine; 3 coachmen, Hubert of course, and two Englishmen. One, Mr. Leroy, such a magnificent person, came this morning to see W. He has already représenté on several occasions, and driven gala carriages, etc. He seems graciously inclined to go with us (with very high wages, and making his conditions—will drive only the Ambassador and Ambassadress in the gala carriage, etc.). That will necessitate very delicate negotiations with Hubert, who also wishes to drive only the Ambassador and me. However, as he has never driven a gala carriage, and they are very heavy, unwieldy vehicles to manage, I think he must waive his claim.
There has also been a long consultation about horses, how many for the gala carriage. When Maréchal MacMahon went as Ambassador Extraordinary to the Emperor of Germany's Coronation he had six horses and running footmen (it seems there must be six or two—four are not allowed. Four would be too sporting—not serious enough). We have four enormous footmen, and one ordinary sized one for every-day use—2 gala carriages, and a coupé d'Orsay, which must be painted dark blue with white stripes, our colours.
We are getting on slowly. The horse question is settled—no one has more than two, so we take 9 enormous carrossiers. Hawes is commissioned to get them. They could not be found anywhere in France. I forget the exact height (as big as they make them), but he promises to get them from England, or the Luxembourg, where it seems they have a special breed of enormous, heavy coach horses.
We had a most satisfactory interview this morning with M. Lhermite, the head man of the great restaurant, Potel & Chabot. W. had been rather bothered about a head man, or major domo, who could take charge of the whole household. Our Joseph is not very brilliant—he does W.'s service, and can look after an ordinary household, but would not be at all up to the mark in this case. Lhermite heard that W. was looking for someone, so he came and volunteered to go with us, and superintend everything. He was so well dressed and had such good manners that W. rather demurred, and thought he was above the place; however Lhermite pressed it very much, and wound up by saying, "J'ai été cuisinier moi-même, Monsieur, personne ne vous servira mieux que moi." So it was settled, and he has full powers to engage cooks, scullions, etc.
The man who went to Moscow has just sent us the plan of the house which he has found. It seems large and handsome, a good entrance, marble staircase, large ballroom and dining-room, and sufficient bedrooms. It calls itself "Maison Klein," not a palace; and is evidently the house of a rich Jew.
I am glad to have a day of rest, Dear. I didn't even get up for church. The standing at the dressmaker's is something awful. Yesterday I tried 12 dresses (finished), 6 at Delannoy's before breakfast, and 6 at Philippe's afterwards. They are all handsome—I think the Court dresses will be handsome. The principal one for the day of the Coronation is sapphire blue satin embroidered all round the train (3 mètres long), with a beautiful wreath of flowers in chenille, and silk, and gold and silver leaves; very showy, in fact rather clinquant (not at all like me), but they said I must have "des toilettes à effet qui seraient remarquées." The under-dress is salmon pink satin, the front all covered with flowers to match the embroidery. I shall wear blue feathers (short ones) in my hair. I am happy to say that the regulation white waving plumes of the English Court are not de rigueur in Russia. The other train is a pale pink satin with raised dark red flowers and velvet leaves, all the front my old point de Venise flounces which look handsome. I suppose I shall take about 18 dresses in all.
I have just had a nice visit from Prince Orloff, Russian Ambassador here, who is a great friend of ours, and who was very anxious from the first that I should go. I confided to him that I was very nervous and uncomfortable. I don't mind so much in the day time when I am seeing quantities of people, and interested in the preparations; but I don't sleep, and have visions of the Kremlin being blown up, and all sorts of horrors. As Richard3 goes with us too, I have made W. appoint a guardian for Francis, as Henrietta and Anne could hardly bring up a Frenchman, and after all we may none of us ever come back.
Henrietta was reduced to tears this morning when W. gave her the key of his secrétaire, and said his will and last directions were there, in case anything happened to him—cheerful preparations for a festive journey.
Our boxes and cases are being packed, and the house is a curiosity—crowded with every conceivable thing. My two maids (I take Mdme. Hubert too, as Adelaïde is not very strong, and if she gave out I should be in a bad way) are much taken up with their outfit. They each have two sets of new things, a blue serge costume and coat for travelling, and a black silk for their gala occasions. Pontécoulant is always teasing Mdme. Hubert, and asking if "ses toilettes sont prêtes."
This morning I saw the 9 gigantic horses which were paraded under the windows. They started to-night, as they must rest at Berlin. M. Lhermite is a treasure. He also starts to-night with his cooks and provisions of all kinds. W. and Pontécoulant gave him all their instructions, and then he came for mine. I told him I must have my maids in the room next to me, and as we had a plan of the house, it is quite easy. I have a fair-sized bedroom and dressing-room (which he will arrange as a sort of boudoir) on the court (no living rooms are on the street), and the maids a large room opening out of the dressing-room. He is eminently practical; takes charge of the whole personnel, will arrange a sort of dormitory for all the men servants; will see that they are ready in time, clean and well turned out.
Pontécoulant, who is also very practical, overlooks that part of the business; also the stables, and Mr. Leroy and Lhermite will report to him every morning. Leroy has also just been in, much pleased with his gala carriage and liveries. Hubert is beaming, and most particular about his lace jabot and ruffles. I wonder how they will all ever settle down to our quiet life again.
I will finish this afternoon, Dear. I am ready to start, dressed in my travelling dress, dark blue cloth, with a long coat lined with red satin, and a black hat with blue feathers (I haven't got on the coat and hat yet). There has been such a procession of people all day, and great vans to carry off the luggage. I have been rather bothered about my jewels—how to carry them. I have taken everything the family own. Anne's necklace, with some extra stones I had, has been converted into a tiara. All the Russian women wear their National coiffure at the Coronation, the Kakoshnik. As that is very high, studded with jewels, any ordinary arrangement of stars and feathers would look insignificant. Freddy, who is an authority on such matters, advised me to concentrate all my efforts on the tiara—he also suggested ropes of pearls (artificial) but I couldn't make up my mind to that. Chemin, the jeweller, was very anxious I should "louer" a sort of breastplate of diamonds—but on the whole I preferred taking less—merely mine and the sisters'. What I shall do if they are stolen or lost I am sure I don't know. I don't care to carry them myself in a bag, as I never by any chance carry my bag, I should certainly leave it somewhere; and I don't like to give it to the maids either, so I have put all the jewels in two trunks, scattered about the fond, wrapped up with silk stockings, etc.
I have given my last instructions to Nounou, and a nice young coachman who comes to replace Hubert in our absence, and also provided a surprise for baby in the shape of a large train, which will distract him the first days. We saw also this morning the detective who goes with us. He is one of those who always accompany the foreign Princes who pass through Paris, and is said to know well all the great nihilist leaders (all of whom he says will be at the Coronation). He has two ordinary policemen with him. They go of course on the train with us, and never lose sight of us. I shall feel rather like a distinguished criminal being tracked across Europe.
Pontécoulant