The reminiscences of Lady Randolph Churchill

Contents

PAGE

Chapter I. Early Recollections — Paris — Society of the Second Empire — Princess Metternich — The Due de Talleyrand — Parties at Compiegne S

Chapter II. Paris, 1870 — Franco-German War — Napoleon III AT Sedan — London and Cowes — Paris after THE War 25

Preface To Book

In studying the prefaces to various contemporary Memoirs, I find that most of them are apologetic in tone, and I ask myself . . . why? If a book needs an apology ought it to be written ?

Having been favored by Providence with delightful and absorbing experiences, having traveled all over the world, and met many of the most distinguished people of my generation, why should I not record all that I can about them, and about the stirring things I have seen, or shared in doing ?

I have done so. But there may be some to whom these Reminiscences will be interesting chiefly in virtue of what is left unsaid.

J. C. W.

Salisbury Hall, St. Albans, England, 1908

REMINISCENCES OF LADY RANDOLPH CHURCHILL

REMINISCENCES OF LADY RANDOLPH CHURCHILL

Chapter I Early Recollections— Paris 1869

MY father was for three years American Consul at Trieste, and Italy thus colored my first impression of life, although I was born in Brooklyn, in the State of New York. Italian skies gave me my love of heat and of the sun, and a smiling, darkeyed peasant nurse tuned my baby ears to the harmony of the most melodious of all languages. Until the age of six I spoke hardly anything but Italian. My father, Leonard Jerome, a Princeton graduate and the most enterprising of nine brothers, soon wearied of the tranquil life of a Mediterranean town, and returned to America with my mother and three small children, all girls, one of whom died a year or two later. On our journey back I remember how, as we crossed the Mont Cenis in a vettura, the deep snow filled my childish mind with awe and astonishment. But this was a sight I was soon to become familiar with in my own country.

For four or five years my family lived in New York, where my father, in making and unmaking several fortunes, and at one time virtually possessing the whole of the Pacific Mail Line, found plenty of scope for his ambitions and his active brain. For a short period he was co-editor of the "New York Times" with Mr. Henry Raymond. He founded Jerome Park and the Coney Island Jockey Club, the first of the two great American race-courses, and with his friend August Belmont made good his claim to being called "the father of the American turf."

Then came the period of the Civil War. That great struggle, which for four years devastated my country and sacrificed a million men in the cause of freedom, passed our nursery unmolested, and I remember nothing about it except that every little Southerner I met at dancing classes was a "wicked rebel," to be pinched, if possible; while the words of the bitter parody which we used to sing to the tune of "Maryland, My Maryland" come back to me to-day.

Resides the 4th of July celebrations of fire-crackers, and memories of burnt fingers, and St. Patrick's Day processions when the streets were filled yearly with an ever-increasing crowd of Paddies and Biddies, one vivid recollection of an important event strikes across my mind. I remember our house in Madison Square draped from top to bottom in white and black, and the whole of New York looking like one gigantic mausoleum. It was the funeral of President Lincoln.

Next came a few uneventful years of lessons, with matinees at the opera "to improve our minds," sleighing and skating for pleasure, and on red-letter days a drive to Jerome Park on my father's coach, where, tiny mite that I was, I always occupied the seat of honor next him. Sometimes from afar I could see the blue and white of his racing colors come in first, which was a great excitement. On one occasion I was hoisted upon the back of his most famous race-horse— the celebrated "Kentucky," whose sire "Lexington" and dam "Magnolia" by "Glencoe," were of the best blood in England. Kentucky was never beaten, but came to an untimely end, being burned to death on his way to California, my father having sold him for the then fabulous sum of $40,000. Unlike most American children, we were seldom permitted to go to boy and girl dances, but a photograph I have of myself at the age of ten, dressed as a vivandiere, reminds me of a fancy ball given by Mr. Belmont to which I was allowed to go. For days I did not sleep with the excitement of anticipation, but on the eventful night I was found in a flood of tears, the explanation being that I did not look "at all as I thought I was going to" — a situation which, alas! has often repeated itself.

We spent several delightful summers at Newport, where my father had built a charming villa more in accordance with one's idea of a seaside residence than the gorgeous white marble palaces which are the fashion nowadays. There we were allowed to run wild and be as grubby and happy as children ought to be.

Mrs. Ronalds, who was as gifted as she was lovely, and shared with Mrs. Ritchie (now Mrs. Adair) the reputation of being the reigning beauty, gave me a species of small dog-cart and two donkeys which rejoiced in the names of "WiUie" and "Wooshey." With the cart filled with half a dozen children, and urged by a stick, at the end of which was "the business end of a tin tack," christened the "Persuader," Willie and Wooshey were gently made to tear up and down Bellevue Avenue at the risk of our necks and every one else's. The cart and its occupants soon became a terror to the smart folk in their silks and feathers who drove majestically by. These were delightful days.

In 1867, owing to my mother having become ill, we sailed for Europe in order that she might consult the celebrated American physician Dr. Sims, in Paris. I little thought I was fated not to return to my native land until 1876, when I had already been married two years. Finding that the educational advantages were greater in Paris than in New York, we decided to remain there. On regaining her health, my mother went out a great deal in French society, where her beauty attracted much attention, la belle Americaine at that time having all the charm of novelty.

The last flicker of the candle, the last flame of the dying fire, is ever the brightest; and so it was with Paris in 1869.

Never had the Empire seemed more assured, the court more brilliant, the fetes more gorgeous. The light-hearted Parisians reveled in the daily sights of royal processions and cavalcades. The Bois de Boulogne and the Champs Elysees, where we were living at that time, were crowded with splendid equipages. I remember often seeing the Empress Eugenie, then the handsomest woman in Europe, driving in her daumont, the green and gold liveries of the postilions and outi riders making a brave show. Nor were four horses and postihons the privilege of royalty alone. Princess Metternich, the wife of the Austrian Ambassador, often went out in similar style. The beautiful Madame de Canisy, and the Duchesse de Mouchy, the Empress's greatest and perhaps only intimate friend, and a host of court ladies habitually drove out in great state, and helped by the magnificence of their appearance to give to Paris that air of elegance and distinction which could neither be surpassed nor emulated by any other capital in Europe. Even among those who had forebodings of the gathering storm, no one had descried the black shadow cast on the blue sky by the approaching figure of Bellona, her fierce eyes fixed on happy, smiling, tranquil France.

Although I was not old enough to go into society, being still troubled with governesses, the echoes of the Tuileries fetes and of the gay social life of Paris were heard in our house, and eagerly listened to by my curious and greedy ears. The Emperor Napoleon III was credited with a great liking for Americans, and he certainly showed his partiality by having many invited to the official festivities. Among them was my eldest sister, who made her debut at one of the Tuileries balls. Notwithstanding her awe at the magnificence of the palace, and her confusion at having to walk up the grand staircase between the Cent- Gardes in her first low frock, she was able to give me afterward a graphic description of the scene, which made a deep impression on me. Unlike the procedure at the Court of St. James, no procession was formed. When the company was assembled, the doors were flung open, and ''Sa Majeste

VEmpereur" was announced. Then after a pause, "Sa Majeste rimperatricer who that evening appeared a resplendent figure in green velvet, with a crown of emeralds and diamonds, spiked Mnih pearls, on her small and beautifully shaped head. The Emperor and Empress walked round the circle of courtesying and bowing guests, addressing a few words here and there, and then proceeded to the ball-room. Besides the great functions at the palace, smaller and more informal dances were given. These were the ijetits Lundis, which had been instituted ten years before, and at which the Prince Imperial, although only a boy, was allowed to appear and amuse himself, perhaps with a view to forming his manners, and giving him that ease in society in which foreign royalties excel. All the most beautiful and charming women of Paris, including many attractive foreigners, were asked. Court ceremonial and etiquette were dispensed with, which added greatly to the enjoyment of the evening. After one of these petits Lundis, which had been unusually animated (owing to its being Twelfth Night, when a magnificent "Gateau des Rois," with presents for the ladies, had been the event of the evening). Count Hatzf eldt, late German Ambassador to England, who was then Secretary to the Embassy in Paris, and a frequenter of our salon, prophetically sounded the first note of trouble to come. "I never saw their Majesties in better spirits than they were last night," he remarked, "and God knows where they will be next year at this time." In the light of subsequent events, we were much impressed by his having said this, although I cannot believe that he really knew much.

The celebrated beauties, most of them in the zenith of their fame, with whom the Empress loved to surround herself, and whose portraits adorned the walls of her boudoir in the Tuileries, were conspicuous at these small dances. The Marquise de Gallif et, wife of the General, and her sister Madame Cordier, formerly Mesdemoiselles Lafitte, one fair, the other dark, would sometimes dress alike, making a lovely contrast. The Comtesse de Pourtales, whose bewitching face and fascinating manner won all hearts, also concerned herself so seriously with politics that she became the social link between the two camps of Legitimists and Bonapartists. Comte de Pourtales, being of Swiss origin, had no compunction in becoming an Imperialist, and they were great favorites at the Tuileries. Madame de Pourtales later showed her gratitude and devotion to the fallen monarchs by interceding for them with M. Thiers for the restoration of some of their property. Having visited them at Chiselhurst in the dark year of 1873, and realizing their poverty, which was known to few, Madame de Pourtales never rested till she had succeeded in her task.

As a girl I remember seeing her at the opera, a vision of beauty in a cloud of tulle, with her soft brown hair, lovely, expressive eyes, and radiant smile. Later, when as a married woman I had the pleasure of knowing her, I always found a pleasant welcome at her house in the rue Tronchet, on my visits to Paris ; and from the charm of her beauty and personality, and the vivacity of her conversation, could easily understand the sway she held over society. To this day, although a grandmother of many years' standing, she is still a beautiful woman, and no Frenchman can speak of ''La belle Melanie'' without saying, ''Elle est etonnante." For so many years did these beautiful women reign supreme that envious rivals christened them ''La vieille Garde/' perverting the old saying with malicious aptness.

At this period Princesse Mathilde, who had a fine house in the rue de Courcelles, used to give cotillions, at which the colletmonte and aristocratic families made their appearance in greater numbers than at the Tuileries : the noble f aubom'g, satisfied that her mother was a Princess of Wiirtemberg, while her uncle was the Czar Nicholas I, did not look upon her as a parvenu and an interloper.

Princesse Mathilde, undoubtedly the most brilliant and intelligent woman of the Second Empire, had done the honors at the Elysee, in 1848, for her cousin Louis Napoleon, then President of the Republic. Her marriage to Count Anatole DemidofF, Prince of San Donato, had not been a success as every one knows, and after some scenes of great violence on his part, she separated from him, supported in this step by her uncle Nicholas I, who also forced his sub j ect Count Demidoff to give her a large income, which it is said amounted in the course of sixty years to twelve million francs.

The Princess loved to surround herself with all those possessing wit or talent, and her salon had a world-wide reputation, comparing easily with the famous salons of the eighteenth century, with the added attraction and glamour of royalty and great wealth. That these sacred portals were opened for anything so frivolous as a dance was to please the Prince Imperial and the Empress's nieces, the Mesdemoiselles d'Albe. It was there that some of the young and pretty Americans in Paris, including my sister, now Mrs. Moreton Frewen, had

.MISS JhNNlt JURUML. AS A \1\' AN HI i: Rlf, AT TKN YEARS OF AGE the privilege of meeting such men as Dumas, Sardou, Theophile Gautier, Baudry, and many other habitues of the house.

Among the celebrated women of Eugenie's circle none took so prominent a place as Princess Pauline Metternich, the wife of the Austrian Ambassador. Though she was only twenty-two when she first arrived in Paris in 1860, her wit, vivacity, and extraordinary "chic" (the only word which really describes her) placed her at once among the leaders of what was undoubtedly the most brilliant court in Europe. Her life is too well known for me to dilate on it, her repartees and bon mots were on every one's lips, her dresses were the models all tried to copy, and her company was eagerly sought for by the greatest in the land. Apart from other interests, her predilection for the stage was perhaps her ruling passion. She was never so happy as when organizing theatricals, and she was the ruling spirit of all the entertainments of that kind given at Compiegne, where, whether as a black devil dancing in a ballet before the whole court, or dressed as a coachman singing sprightly verses, she was the cynosure of all eyes. Her success was enhanced by the fact that Octave Feuillet wrote the verses, while Viollet-le-Duc was stage-manager. Notwithstanding these frivolities. Princess Metternich always remained grande dame. After the fall of the Empire, on returning to Vienna, she took her legitimate place at court, where she soon gained the same social ascendancy that she had held for ten years in the French capital. A real patron of art and music, it was owing entirely to her influence, as is well known, that "Tannhauser" was given in Paris in 1861, although it was a gigantic failure. The French not having aspired in those days to anything so complex as Wagner, it must be put down to her credit that she understood and appreciated him twenty years before they did/ Smetana's "Verkaufte Braut," given in London for the first time in 1907, was brought out in Vienna some years ago under the auspices of Princess Metternich.

In 1888 the Viennese wrote a couplet in her honor which runs :

Es giebt nur a Kaiserstadt;

Es giebt nur a Wien ;

Es giebt nur a Fiirstin :

Es is die Metternich Paulin.

The following letter, which I received from her apropos of the "Puppenfee," which I wanted to give In London, proves what a born stage-manager she was. Her directions are most clear and lucid, and show how great an interest she still takes in theatrical matters :

LETTER FROM PRINCESSE METTERNICH

ViENNE, le 8 Juin, 1891.

Chere Lady Randolph,

Je re9ois a I'instant la lettre dans laquelle vous me faites part de votre desir de representer la pantomime ballet "Puppenfee" pour une ceuvre de charite mondaine. J'en suis tres flattee car c'est nous qui en sommes les auteurs, la "Puppenfee" ayant ete donnee pour la premiere fois chez nous a la campagne en Bolieme. Je vais demander au maitre de ballet de I'Opera de m'envoyer le libretto avec toutes les indications voulues. Quant ^See "Les Femmes du Second Empire," by F. Loliee.

aux costumes rien de plus simple, car vous pouvez prendre tout ce que vous voulez. II faudra seulement pour les pas seuls, avoir une Japonaise, une Espagnole, une Styrienne ou Tyrolienne, une Chinoise et un bebe, de ceux qui disent "Papa" et "Maman." Pour le reste, laissez libre cours a votre fantaisie. Le reveil des poupees s'opere au coup de minuit lorsque le magasin est ferme, et quand, reveillee par le sabbat, la marchande arrive, elle s'evanouit de frayeur, ayant ete entrainee dans les rondes folles des poupees devenues vivantes. En revenant de son evanouissement elle trouve tout rentre en bon ordre, et les poupees sont redevenues immobiles. Albrs la marchande s'avance vers la rampe et fait comprendre par gestes aux spectateurs qu'elle a ete evidemment le j ouet d'un reve !

Le sujet est bien simple, comme vous voyez, et il n'a pas fallu beaucoup d'imagination pour le trouver !

Recevez, chere Lady Randolph, I'assurance de mes sentiments

les meilleurs et les plus aff ectueux.

P. Metternich.

Foremost among the social lights of the Second Empire was Boson de Talleyrand Perigord — Prince de Sagan — now Due de Talleyrand. With the Due de Morny and the celebrated Count Gramont-Caderousse, he kept Paris society in a ferment of amazement and excitement. His name, his fetes, and his extravagances were on all lips. When I first met the Prince after the war, in 1872, he must have been about forty-five. He was a remarkable-looking man, with snow-white, curly hair, which stood out like a lion's mane, and through which he had a habit of passing his fingers. With a well set-up figure, irreproachable clothes, a white carnation in his buttonhole, and an eye-glass to which was attached a black moire ribbon which became the fashion, he was undoubtedly the ideal Parisian beau, le dernier cri. As such he was caricatured in the press and on the stage ad infinitum. A kindly man, he deserved a better fate than was meted out to him in his domestic circle, where his differences with the Princess were for many years public property. A descendant of the famous diplomat, the Marquis de Talleyrand, he was heir to a dukedom and vast estates in Germany as well as in France, where he owned the historical Chateau de Valan^ay on the Loire. Although he did not succeed to his estates until stricken in years and in health, he had already anticipated most of his inheritance, and had dissipated enormous sums.

He was the originator of the Auteuil race-course and the Cercle de la rue Royale. He was a patron of the drama, and many artists owed their success to his timely aid. If he had faults, he was, I fancy, as much sinned against as sinning. Struck down with an attack of paralysis, he was taken by the irony of fate to his wife's house, where he had not lived for many years and which he had sworn never to re-enter. He is still living there, the Princess having died a few years ago. Many a pleasant party did he organize for my sister and me. I also remember a picnic to St. Germain when, as Mr. James Gordon Bennett was driving us back on his coach, we came to grief near the Arc de Triomphe and were nearly killed. I used sometimes to ride with my father and the Prince in the Bois. Mounted on a seemingly fiery chestnut, I fancied myself vastly.

In the month of November, 1869, the Empress went to Egypt to open the Suez Canal ; the Emperor for state reasons remained in France. The imperial progress created the greatest enthusiasm. Her Majesty left Port Said for IsmaiHa on board the Aigle, which had been sumptuously fitted up for her ; sixty vessels followed in the wake. Cleopatra sailing up the "river of Cydnus" to meet Mark Antony in all the color and glory of Eastern pomp paled in comparison, while "for her own person" Eugenie, like Cleopatra, "beggared all description." The most lavish expenditm-e and extraordinary display marked every step. All vied in doing honor to the brilliant and beautiful Empress who, imposing and serene, was then poised — for a final moment, had she but known it — at the summit of her fortune.

The late Due d'Albe, her favorite nephew, was in her suite, and related to me a few years ago the details of this wonderful journey. The Empress, as she stepped off the vessel on reaching Ismailia, found all the carriages awaiting her painted in the imperial colors, with green and gold liveries and the gold bees ; and even her villa there was furnished in facsimile of her rooms at the Tuileries, that she might feel "at home." I believe that the same compliment was paid to Queen Victoria when she and the Prince Consort visited the French court in 1855 for the Exhibition.

Verdi composed "Aida" for the opening of the Canal, and in honor of the Empress, who was present at the first performance in Cairo.

During her absence in Egypt, the Emperor gave what was fated to be the last of his famous parties, or series as they were called, at Compiegne, at which Princesse Mathilde helped to do the honors. It was much smaller than usual, on account of the Emperor's bad health and political worries. Among those invited were my mother and sister. Hunting, shooting, and dancing were some of the amusements provided. There was a grande chasse^ or stag hunt, on the first day, at which all the guests appeared, riding or driving. Those who hunted wore the royal colors, the men in green coats and the gold hunt buttons, the ladies in flowing green habits and three-cornered hats. The stag on this occasion was brought to bay in a lake, the Prince Imperial giving him the coup de grace. At night there was a curee auoc flambeaux in the courtyard of the chateau, the whole party assembling on the balconies in the glare of the innumerable torches. The carcass of the deer lay in the center, covered with its skin; the hallali was sounded; at a signal the hounds were unleashed, and in a moment every vestige of the stag had disappeared.

The next day an expedition was organized to see the Chateau de Pierref onds, a distance of nine or ten miles : the party went in chars-a-hancs under the guidance of M. Viollet-le-Duc, the celebrated architect, who had just completed its restoration. Compiegne, where Joan of Arc was taken prisoner, and which was rebuilt by Louis XV and decorated by Napoleon I, seemed modern in comparison with this huge castle, with its battlemented walls and medieval arrangements.

After a tour of inspection mider the guidance of Viollet-le-Duc, the day ended with tea in the beautiful armory of the castle from which the Emperor presented each lady with a souvenir in the shape of a small weapon.

One day there was a Cabinet Council, and the guests were exhorted to be discreet in their amusements and not disturb his Majesty. Who knows what fateful questions were discussed? Times were disquieting, and the

MRS. LEONARD JEROME, MOTHER OF LADY RANDOLPH CHURCHILL pourparlers going on with Prussia were anything but pleasant. The Government was in direct conflict with the Opposition. Marechal Bazaine, who had come from Paris for this Council, had a few weeks previously made great military preparations for preventing the Opposition members from meeting to fix a date other than that settled by the Government for the assembling of the Chambers. The Emperor himself, anticipating trouble, had gone to Paris. Fortunately all passed off quietly, and the troops were not called out. But it gives one an idea of the volcano on which the Empire and the new Ollivier JNIinistry were living. At this visit to Compiegne Bazaine was accompanied by his wife, a Mexican lady, who created a sensation by appearing in a gown of vivid scarlet with gloves to match. This was thought tres Anglais, as no one in France wore such brilliant colors.

Every night from sixty to a hundred guests sat down to dinner, the Emperor never permitting it to last more than three quarters of an hour. Sometimes magnificent gold plate adorned the table, sometimes precious biscuit de Sevres. Before dinner the company assembled in two long lines. The Emperor took in Princesse Mathilde, sitting opposite her at the center of the table, a few seats of honor being reserved on each side, while the rest placed themselves as they wished, the ladies choosing the gentlemen to take them in, according to the custom of Compiegne. After dinner there was dancing, in which the Prince Imperial, then only thirteen, was allowed to join till ten o'clock, when his tutor would approach him, saying, "Monseigncur, voire chapeau/' which meant going to bed. At the close of the visit there was a grand lottery in which all tickets were prizes. The Emperor ' 23 stood near two great urns from which the numbers were drawn, and as each guest received one he wished him "Bonne chance/' Some little juggling must have gone on, for my mother and the American minister, Mr. Washburne, won valuable pieces of Sevres china, whereas the presents for the younger people were less costly. My sister, much to my envy, was given an inkstand shaped like a knotted handkerchief filled with napoleons, upon which the Emperor remarked, '^Mademoiselle^ n'oubliez pas les Napoleons!"

Chapter II Paris, 1870 — Franco-german War

IN the spring of 1870 Paris was full of unrest and rumors of war. Prussia on several occasions had been more than aggressive and had heaped insults on France. Prevost Paradol, the brilliant journalist and writer, whose daughter was a playfellow of mine, described the two countries as "running on the same lines, collision being inevitable." It was said that the Emperor was credulous and that Bismarck was unscrupulous; the latter wanted war, and what he wished generally happened. In Prussia also disturbing rumors had been rife for some time ; as an instance of this a story is told of General Blumenthal shooting in Norfolk in 1869 with Lord Albemarle, who remarked that he would like to see the Prussian manoeuvers. "It is not necessary to come to Prussia," said the General; "we v/ill have a review for you in the Champ-de-Mars."

The Hohenzollern incident was the last straw, and it provoked France beyond endurance. Prince Leopold of Hohenzollern, a tool of Bismarck, became a candidate for the throne of Spain. It was looked upon as "^^une sanglante injure pour VEmpereur Napoleon." Excited by the press, the whole country clamored for war. According to history, peace might have been maintained had it not been for the rashness and violence of the Due de Gramont, then Minister for Foreign Affairs, and the ineptitude and blunders of M. Emile Ollivier, whose famous phrase, that he took upon himself and his colleagues the responsibility of the war d'un coeur leger, will ever be associated with his memory. Conciliation having been rendered impossible, on the 19th of July, 1870, war was declared, to the sorrow of the Emperor, who, very ill at the time and on the eve of a serious operation, had done all he could to avert it. I shall never forget the excitement. Crowds paraded the streets with cries of "A Berlin !" The war, the war — there was no other topic. Utter strangers would stop to discuss the situation. The confidence in the generals and the army was immense. It was to be one long but straight march to Berlin; not a soul doubted it. Of course our sympathies were French, and I felt that I hated "Ces sales Prussiens" as much as did any of the inliabitants of the doomed city.

Exciting incidents crowded on us. One day we saw Capoul the celebrated tenor, and Marie Sass of the Opera, on being recognized in an omnibus, made to stand on the top and sing the "Marseillaise," an evergrowing crowd joining in the chorus. One night we went to the opera in walking dresses, with our hats in our hands, in case there was any trouble and we might have to walk home, which proved to be the case. It was a strange performance, as the singers were constantly being interrupted and made to sing patriotic songs. We found the greatest difficulty in getting home, owing to the streets being filled with huge crowds marching to the cry of ''des chassepots, des chassejjots/^ Poor fellows, they soon had them, and all the fighting they wanted.

July and August were anxious months for us. With keen interest we followed with maps and flags the incidents of the war. One day the Emperor was leaving Paris for Metz to join his army of 380,000 men, which, to his dismay, proved to muster only 220,000 badly equipped troops. Another day came; it was the details of Saarbriick and the hapteme de feu of the Prince Imperial; or, again, of Marechal Leboeuf's resignation and Marechal Bazaine being made Generalissimo, which, according to JNI. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire, would give confidence to the country. But, alas ! news of fresh defeats was continuous; the rapidity with which disaster after disaster befell the French army seemed incredible.