The Tsar's Window/Chapter 08
CHAPTER VIII.
AN IMPERIAL CHRISTENING.
January 17.
WHEN I told Alice of my long walk with her brother-in-law, she looked somewhat scandalized, and said she wished I would be more careful.
"Even a maid," she went on to explain, "is not considered sufficient protection by the Russian ladies; there must be a married woman or a governess to make walking perfectly proper. Many girls are not allowed to go out alone in their own carriages. That, of course, is absurd."
"I should think so!" I exclaimed indignantly.
"Russians are very particular with their daughters," Alice continued. "A gentleman never, under any circumstances, asks for a young lady at the door, and never leaves his card for her. The girls are not visible except on their mamma's reception days, when they preside at the tea-table."
"What a stupid time they must have!" said Judith. "But how well they speak French! Monsieur d'Echaud told me that the only way in which he could distinguish Russian French from Parisian was by a slight drawl in the former."
"They are obliged to speak it well," returned Alice, "it is used so much at court. The most wonderful thing about the Russians is, that they speak so many languages well. German, English, French, and Russian are considered only ordinary accomplishments."
"I don't understand how they can do it," I sighed.
"Poor Dorris!" laughed Alice. "Languages always troubled you more than any other study; and I fear your French would have been no better than your German, if you had not been educated by a French governess."
"It is a singular fact," I owned humbly, "that when I can read a language perfectly well, my tongue refuses to speak it. How unfortunate I should be, if I had not been taught French in my childhood!"
"It is time to start for the palace!" Alice exclaimed, and we hurried down to the carriage.
The occasion which called us to the Winter Palace was the baptism of the young Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovitch, son of the Tsarevitch, in which ceremony our cards of invitation indicated that we were to assist.
The day was perfect,—bright sunshine, the thermometer ten degrees above zero. I have to go through with a sum in arithmetic every time I look at the thermometer. To translate Réaumer into Fahrenheit is something which requires a talent for numbers.
Punctually at ten o'clock in the morning, the procession started from the Tsarevitch's palace. First, one hundred of the Emperor's bodyguard,—two platoons of them, stretching from one side of the street to the other. Behind them rode a solitary officer, and next four grooms in the imperial livery. A gilt coach followed, drawn by six bay horses with gilt harness, and containing the Master of Ceremonies of the Tsarevitch's court.
A larger gilt coach came after the first, in which were the Cushion Bearer and the Blanket Bearer,—one of them being Count Kotzebue, the Governor of Poland, and the other Prince Suwaroff. Then appeared a third gilt coach. In this was the Mistress of Ceremonies of the Tsarevna's court, and the baby,—"L'Auguste Grand-Duc Nouveau-Né,"—about whom all this trouble was taken!
The equipage which carried him had outriders. Each of the carriages had postilions, coachmen, two men in the rumble, and three servants walking in the road on either side, dressed in the imperial livery. Some of the more prudent held up the skirts of their long, fur-lined coats, as they marched through the snow, thus presenting rather an absurd appearance. Another company of Cossacks brought up the rear; and the whole procession went, at an impressive, funereal pace, towards the palace.
Judith and I were very gorgeous in our court dresses. It seemed almost a pity that we could not always present such a fine appearance. We both wore long trains, and our dresses were low in the neck, as etiquette requires for all court ceremonies.
We were admitted at the Door of the Council of the Empire. Many people were taking off their wraps as we entered, changing themselves from shapeless fur bundles into ladies in glittering costumes, and gentlemen in uniform. We followed their example, and walked up the broad staircase of white marble with carved oak balustrades, finding ourselves confronted with two beautiful rosewood doors, ornamented with gilt, which opened at our approach. We passed into a long hall, with innumerable windows on the right, looking over the Neva, and on the left a conservatory, containing a fountain, palm-trees, and many tropical plants. A balcony, supported by pillars of white marble, added much to the beauty of this room.
Some Masters of Ceremonies advanced towards us. One was introduced to me; but I was so occupied in admiring the room that I only noticed the great height of my escort. I soon became aware that he was also very young, and that he was gazing at me in respectful silence.
"You must pardon me," I exclaimed, "for having so little to say. I am silent because I am anxious to see all I can."
He bowed gravely.
"I suppose this is the first view you have had of the palace, mademoiselle?"
"Yes; and I hope I shall see much more of it."
He smiled. "Your wish will be gratified; for we have a great many rooms to pass through before we reach the chapel. From here (walking to one of the windows) you see the race-course, where we have races every Sunday."
"But that is the river."
"Yes; but the ice is so thick that there is not the slightest danger. You should go to the races while you are in Petersburg."
"On Sunday!" I cried.
"True!" he responded, in some confusion. "You are Protestant."
"Yes; and my sister would be shocked if you suggested such a thing to her."
"Will you come now?" asked my companion, seeing that the other occupants of the room had made a move.
We followed, and skirted the conservatory, turning into an apparently endless corridor, lined on one side with portraits of the Emperors of Russia at all ages. On the other side were windows looking into the Hermitage, and standards holding magnificent Sèvres vases. The rest of our walk was through a labyrinth of splendor, of which I retain only a confused memory. I have vague recollections of an enormous throne-room, with a raised dais for the throne; vistas of long passages, with arched ceilings and painted walls; a smaller throne-room; immense malachite vases; lapis-lazuli tables; rosewood cabinets, with delicate painted panels; ebony doors, inlaid with gold, silver, and ivory; pillars of marble and granite, from Finland and Siberia; a huge room with rows of silver candelabra, reaching nearly from floor to ceiling; marqueterie floors, polished to such an extent that it was with the utmost difficulty I kept my equilibrium; painted ceilings, mirrors, and pictures.
"It is certainly the most beautiful palace I ever saw," I exclaimed.
My companion looked pleased.
"And I suppose you have seen a great many palaces, mademoiselle?"
I was at a loss what to reply, for it had not occurred to me until that moment that this was the first palace I had ever entered. I hid my confusion, and answered carelessly, "Oh, yes! quantities."
Here, to my surprise, George presented himself. Judith having a gentleman on each side of her, perhaps he thought he could not do better than join me. He was in uniform, and looked very handsome, as I could not but acknowledge.
"I hardly recognized you, Miss Romilly," he said.
"I was about to make the same remark to you, Count Piloff."
"I feel like a monkey," he whispered confidentially. "I have had so little occasion to wear this dress for the last few years that I cannot forget my clothes for one instant."
"I am in the same state of mind. This train is nearly breaking my arm, and I am tormented with thoughts of how soiled my dress is getting, sweeping over these wooden floors. And, worst misery of all, my slippers are too tight."
"You unfortunate little woman!" he murmured. "That last fact is enough to ruin your pleasure for the day. You can stand on one foot and rest the other while the ceremony is going on."
"What a bond there is in affliction!" said I. "It is an unspeakable comfort for me to know that you are conscious of your clothes; and if your shoes were only a little too small, I should be perfectly happy."
"If I had known that such a little thing could make you happy, I would willingly have worn a smaller pair."
We both laughed, and I suddenly realized that my "ceremonious man," as Tom called him, was still walking beside me, and might think us rude in holding such a long conversation in English before him. I begged his pardon, and asked him if he spoke that language. He was obliged to confess, with many regrets, that he did not.
"How much farther are we to walk?" I inquired. "We must have been half a mile already."
"We are nearly there now, mademoiselle"; and almost immediately we entered the chapel, where we found the members of the diplomatic corps assembled, the gentlemen in uniform, the ladies in court dress,—that is, décolletées, with long trains carried over one arm, as there was seldom room enough to spread them out. The gentlemen stood on one side of the room, and the ladies on the other, in the regular order of precedence as required by the law of etiquette.
At the back of the chapel was a gilt iconostase, ornamented with rich jewels. In front of this screen was the font. A gilt rail separated this part of the chapel from that where we stood,—typifying the goats, I suppose.
The choir, dressed in red robes trimmed with yellow, was already in its place. Presently the metropolitan of St. Petersburg, in a white brocade robe trimmed with gold, and a tall, pointed hat, came from behind the iconostase, bearing an icon, and followed by a priest with holy water. About ten more priests succeeded them, in gorgeous dress.
Who would not be an emperor's grandson. My republican brain was so dazzled by this time that I had no thought of criticism. Judith looked calmly superior,—as if she had been accustomed to such scenes from her childhood,—while I felt quite plebeian; for I could not hide my wonder and admiration.
The priests passed us as they went towards the entrance of the chapel, where they met the Emperor, who kissed the icon, and was sprinkled with holy water. He then bowed to us: we returned the salutation; and he stood on one side, while each member of his family entered, and followed his example. The procession then walked to the font, and the imperial family took up their positions inside the gilt rail. After the rest of the party had passed, the baby, completely covered with cloth of gold, was borne in on a cushion by the Princess Kourakine. The trains of the grand duchesses were carried by pages.
The maids of honor and ladies and gentlemen belonging to the court now entered, and quite filled the chapel. George stood near me, with a cold, uninterested look on his face, his arms folded, and his eyes travelling about in all directions.
The service lasted over two hours, during which time we were obliged to stand. I could have borne this with resignation, if it had not been for my new slippers and their pointed toes.
The Russian ladies were dressed in the national court costume, which is very pretty. It consists of a white silk or satin skirt; a low waist, long train, and wide, open sleeves of colored velvet; a tiara of the same color,—red seems to be preferred,—and a veil attached to the tiara, which falls down behind over the dress. Of course these costumes were more or less elegant, according to the materials and the jewels worn. The jewels at this court surpass any others in Europe. I am sure it would be safe to add Asia, also, but I have no desire to exaggerate; and, as I have never frequented Asiatic courts, perhaps I am not competent to judge.
The Grand Duchess Constantine has the finest jewels in Russia. On this occasion she wore a train of pearl-gray satin, trimmed with bands of wide Russian sable. The fur round the top of the waist was headed with diamonds, and fastened on one shoulder with an immense emerald. Her petticoat was also of gray satin; and three rows of velvet, thickly sown with all kinds of precious stones, extended from her waist to her feet. On her neck were strings of diamonds and pearls. Her tiara was covered with little diamond points, and her veil of rich old lace fell far down over her dress.
There was a great deal of chanting by the metropolitan and priests, and then the water in the font was blessed. The child was separated in some mysterious way from all his clothes, and plunged into the font three times, head first. His nose and eyes were covered by the metropolitan's hand, but the "Auguste Nouveau-Né" cried like any ordinary baby, and evidently did not like it at all. He was then given to the godmother, wrapped up in blankets, and dozed quietly while another prayer was said. He was only left in peace for a few minutes, however. The priest presently anointed his ears, eyes, mouth, hands, and feet with holy oil, that none of those members should do any harm in life. When the little fellow had recovered from this interruption, and begun to calm down, he was again disturbed; all his hair was cut off and given to the godfather, who threw it into the font. The Emperor stood as godfather. Holding a lighted candle, he carried the baby three times around the font, accompanied by the metropolitan and the godmother, also with candles; and the choir chanted solemnly as they made the tour.
The Emperor passed a blue ribbon about the child's neck, investing him with the order of St. Andrew, after which he was taken away, and appeared no more during the services. The Tsarevitch came forward, and received kisses and congratulations from his relatives.
The exquisite Te Deum which the choir began to sing made me for a few minutes forget the jewelled ladies and ornamented gentlemen about me. All the bells in the city were ringing, and the cannon at the fortress was fired one hundred and one times.
The imperial family left the chapel, and we started to follow. My new friend, who had escorted me there, inquired what I thought of the service, and strolled on by my side.
"It all seems so odd to me," I ended, after a long eulogy on the music, the dresses, etc. "It is strange to think of one person's having a right to stand in a certain spot, while no one else must put the toe of his shoe on that spot. I could not help wondering what would happen if I, finding that I could not see what I wished from my position, should walk inside that rail, where there was plenty of room, and stand beside the grand-duchesses."
The young man looked rather startled. "Oh!" he cried, "no one ever goes there except the imperial family."
"I know," I answered, laughing at my companion's horror. "I had no idea of doing it. I only wondered what would happen if I did."
He looked relieved.
"I suppose everything is quite different in America?"
"Quite. No one takes precedence of any one else there."
This was somewhat puzzling to my young friend; but he was too polite to show that he disapproved of my country, so he refrained from criticism.
"It is a pity," he remarked, "that you will not see the Empress at any of these ceremonies. She is very delicate, and does not leave her own apartments."
"Are you discussing the Greek religion?" asked George, appearing just then at my other elbow.
"Nothing so important," I answered. "Only the difference between Russia and America."
"That is a prolific subject. Pardon me for interrupting for a moment. I wish to call your attention to these walls. I don't believe, Monsieur Cheremenieff has spoken to you about them."
I was glad to discover my new friend's name, though I forgot it again in a few minutes.
"No," I said, "I have not noticed them before, but they are very beautifully carved."
"Stucco!" exclaimed George. "Nothing but stucco. I suppose there is no country where the art of stuccoing has been brought to such perfection as in Russia. Most of the palaces and fine houses in the city are stuccoed. I can count the stone edifices in Petersburg on my fingers. Yet you Americans sneer at stucco."
We had been speaking in French, and Mr. Cheremenieff now put in a conciliatory word. "Perhaps you do not understand about it in your country."
"It is true," I answered, "that there are many things which we don't understand, and we are too ready to sneer at them."
"You acknowledge that!" cried George, laughing.
"I can willingly acknowledge our faults, we have so few of them."
"Dorris! Dorris!" cried the impatient voices of my relatives, "we are waiting for you."
This all happened yesterday. In the evening Tom and Mr. Thurber returned from a bear-hunt. They have been shooting those animals, in imagination, for several weeks. When it comes to the reality it is a very expensive amusement.
"Not as extravagant as keeping a yacht," Tom protested.
"Indeed, I should hope not," was Grace's unsatisfactory reply.
Each bear costs at least one hundred dollars. You must buy a heavy sheepskin coat and felt boots, like those which the moujiks wear, besides the weapons necessary for killing and skinning the creature. Then you must employ two or three men to find a bear, and pay them for their time, which generally amounts to several days; and he must be watched while you are notified of his whereabouts. You take a railroad journey, hire a telega, and drive to the spot; and then if you do not shoot the bear in the eye, he gets away, and you lose him altogether, or one of your attendant moujiks kills him ingloriously for you.
It was late when the two gentlemen returned from their excursion. Tom began at once to relate his thrilling adventures and hairbreadth escapes, and it was some time before I had a chance to ask him where the bear was.
"The bear? Oh, yes! Well, do you know, Thurber shot the bear, and I never saw anything done better."
Whereupon Mr. Thurber became the hero of the hour, and poor Tom dwindled into insignificance. We are going to have bear-steaks for dinner, and the Englishman is to share them with us,—which reminds me that I must begin to dress.
Evening.
He came early, and found me alone in the library. Upon his inquiring why I was left in such solitude, I told him that I had had so little of my own society lately that I felt like a stranger to myself.
"Ah!" he said, in a serious tone, "then I am intruding."
"Not at all. I am not fond of strangers, so pray do not go."
The characteristic wrinkle in my companion's nose showed that he was amused.
"I wonder if any one has ever told you that the tongue is a dangerous weapon?" he asked.
"I remember vaguely to have read it somewhere. But why? Do you wish me to be silent that you may talk?"
"Heaven forbid!" he cried. "I have been exerting myself in that way all the afternoon, and I came here to rest."
"To have a man confess that he comes to me for rest is a bit of flattery which I shall not soon forget."
"Really!" said my companion nonchalantly. "What does Mr. Novissilsky come to you for?"
"To talk about my cousin."
"Ah!" A moment's reflection, and then he added, "One would say, you know, that Count Piloff was a desperate admirer of your cousin's. George Piloff, I mean."
I looked at him with some surprise. Was Chilton Thurber degenerating into a gossip? However, I was glad to have some one to talk the matter over with, so I told him all I knew about Judith, beginning with her attachment to the young man in Vienna. I thought if Mr. Thurber had any lingering fondness for her, it would do no harm to let him know that there were rivals in the field.
He was silent for some minutes after I finished speaking; then,—
"Why have you such a prejudice against Count Piloff?"
"Prejudice!" I repeated, vexed at being accused of such weakness. "It is not a prejudice. But I dislike his manner; and the fact that he is a foreigner is against him. I should be very unhappy if any one whom I loved were to marry a foreigner."
"Then you would advocate your cousin's being faithful to her first love," dryly.
"Certainly. I do not understand how a woman can change in that way. It seems to me that if I loved a man once, I should love him forever; and the women who are in love with a new man every year are generally those with very little character," I added with excitement.
My companion smiled in a superior manner, but refrained from contradiction.
"Every one likes Count Piloff," he said, after a moment. "Why should you not agree with other people?"
"Do you like him?" I asked boldly.
Mr. Thurber did not seem in the least discomposed by my question, but answered unhesitatingly,—
"Yes; I think him an agreeable fellow, excellent company, and not much like a Russian."
"There spoke a prejudiced Englishman! I would rather have him a thorough Russian than a cosmopolitan. To speak frankly, I don't know why I should not like him, unless it is because he is so unconscious that one can look upon him with any feelings except those of admiration."
"I think that is simply a manner which every man acquires who goes into society so much as he does, and in so many different countries. If you knew him as I do, you would acknowledge that he is thoroughly trustworthy; and he has one quality which I have rarely found among his compatriots, or, in fact, among society men anywhere. I mean truthfulness. There was a time when I doubted him, but this virtue has been proved to me beyond dispute. I think you are unjust to him. From a worldly point of view Count Piloff is certainly all that can be required to constitute a suitable match for your cousin."
I sighed. "I cannot bear to think of Judith's marrying a foreigner."
Then I began to wonder what had happened to make Mr. Thurber talk so much to me and in such a confidential manner. Every time I see him he does something which surprises me. He broke the silence by saying,—"Does your antipathy to foreigners as husbands extend to Englishmen?"
Aha! thought I, I see what you are thinking of. Aloud I answered carelessly,—
"To a certain extent, yes. But although Englishmen do not make so good husbands as Americans, they come nearer my standard of excellence than any other foreigners. Fortunately, however, I have no authority over Judith, and in about six months she may marry whom she chooses."
"Ah!" murmured the impassive young man beside me.
After a moment he went on, with a strange tone in his voice, "I was thinking of you when I asked the question."
For an instant my heart stood still; then I concluded I must have misunderstood him, so I counted the stitches in my work calmly, and said,—
"I never think of myself in that way. As I do not intend to marry, I have no occasion to look upon any one I meet in the light of a possible husband."
Mr. Thurber sat up stiffly in his chair, and gazed attentively at me. I could feel his eye-glass, though I did not meet his glance.
"Why do you not intend to marry?" he asked suddenly.
"For reasons best known to myself," I said, with some asperity, adding afterwards, with a little laugh, "You force me to be rude in my replies. I can only tell you that I have good reasons, and that I shall never marry."
His face did not relax; he still gazed at me, and murmured under his breath, "Ah!"
I folded up my work slowly, and brought a newspaper from the table, which I handed to him,—
"There! I know you wish to read your 'Times.' I have a note to write."
He took the paper meekly, and after watching me curiously for a moment, became absorbed in its contents, while I tried to collect myself. It is the most surprising experience I ever had. Was it an offer, or was it not? No one knows but Mr. Thurber, and I strongly suspect that he will never tell me. I am afraid he is not very deeply in love, or he would not have been so easily repulsed.