The Palais d’Assche was one of the handsomest legations in Brussels, having a park in front and a pretty garden behind. We moved into the Legation immediately after my arrival in Brussels, although the workmen were still in the house. I describe the Palais d’Assche because it is so different from our American homes. Just within the passage leading to the courtyard, which was entered through an arch that could be closed with doors, and down a few My bedroom and boudoir were also on this floor, and opened into one of the great salons. The bedroom, which had been the present Queen’s sleeping room, was very large, and was hung in rose-coloured brocade. It contained a few superb pieces of carved furniture with brass trimmings and inlaid crowns. I had the comfort of an open fire in the boudoir; indeed, I needed its cheeriness, for the sky was always gray, and we were forced to turn on the lights even early in the morning. On the garden side of the house was a long At the foot of the garden, behind the house, were the stables and the garage. From the porte-cochÈre the drive passed round both sides down to the stables, and in the center was a lawn with a screen of shrubbery. There were some handsome large trees, and several smaller ones that were trained upon trellises by the side walls, so that it promised to be a pleasant, shady place in the summer time. By dint of much hurry and rush the house was gotten in order for Christmas Day. The workmen were in their last entrenchments on the great stairs on the 23d, and then fortunately disappeared forever. Our few belongings were quickly put in place. The tapestries and pictures were hung in the salons, and at last the Christmas tree was lighted. In Belgium, very little is made of Christmas. Presents are given on St. Nicholas’ Day, but their real celebration is at New Year’s. We did our best, however, to make it seem like a New England Christmas. As a part of our diplomatic duties, we gave a reception for the Americans in Brussels. About seventy-five came, including every sort of person. L. and I received in the library, where the tree lighted up prettily, the music in the ballroom was good, and our guests danced and ate, and I think enjoyed themselves. We had our share of servant troubles at the Legation. At one time we were on the point of sending away our chef, but he wrote L. a little note saying that he felt he must leave us and permit a more “valiant one” to undertake our large household. As we had already telegraphed to England for another, this was not so unfortunate as it might seem. At another time our concierge, whom we thought a model of good behaviour, “ran amuck,” and we had a series of scenes. He began to talk incoherently in the kitchen, and to complain because the automobiles went in and out so often, declaring that the chauffeurs were My first important duty was to call on the ladies in the diplomatic circle, and I went in company with Comtesse Clary, the wife of the Austrian Minister, who was the Doyenne of the Diplomatic Corps. I was indebted to the Comtesse de Buisseret for many little points of etiquette that Europeans and diplomats are extremely careful about, but which Americans often do not consider, such as sitting on the left of your carriage and putting your guest on the right. It is also polite of the hostess to ask a distinguished guest to sit on the sofa when calling, and the manoeuvering for the proper seat is sometimes as complicated as the Japanese tea ceremony. A stranger, after speaking to the hostess, must ask almost at once to be introduced to the other guests. If they are Belgian The King and Queen were very popular, even in those days, and both were young and good looking. They have three fine children, the two boys bearing the splendid historic titles of the Duc de Brabant and the Comte de Flandre. The youngest of the three is the fascinating little Princess Marie JosÉ, who is idolized by the people. His Majesty is the nephew of the former King Leopold, and the Queen is the daughter of His Royal Highness, Charles Theodore, a Bavarian Grand Duke. King Albert, before he succeeded to the throne, had traveled in America, and he always had very pleasant things to say of his visit here. His town residence was the Winter Palace, now a hospital, which was not very far from the Legation; the Summer Palace at Laeken, occupied of late by German officers, is about half an hour’s distance from Brussels by motor. My private audience with the Queen was granted within a week after my arrival in Brussels. I was told to wear a high-necked Of the various functions at Court, the balls were the most brilliant. The women wore gowns with rather long trains, quantities of old lace, and superb jewels, and with the gorgeous Hungarian uniforms, the endless orders, and the varied coats of the Chinese, the scene was dazzling. According to the rank of one’s husband, or according to the length of time he had been in Brussels as Minister, the wives took their places in the “circle” which was formed in the “Salon Bleu,” a room for “Serene Highnesses” and diplomats. The King and Queen made a tour of the apartment, speaking to the ladies on one side, the men on the other, as they do at most court functions. As each person courtesied to Their Majesties, it was a pretty sight to see the courtesies follow them down the line like a slow-moving wave. After this, all the members of the Diplomatic Corps who had any of their compatriots to present, The royal dinner given for us at the Winter Palace was delightful. In Belgium every Envoy used to receive the honour of a dinner, at which the King took in the Minister’s wife on his arm, and the Minister escorted the Queen. Their Majesties sat together in the center of the table, the Minister on the right of the Queen, One of the pleasantest occasions of the winter was our reception and dinner with the Comtesse de Flandre, the mother of the King. We passed up the great staircase with the red carpets, lined with footmen in red coats and knee breeches and wearing their many medals, just as at the King’s palace. At the door the Grand MaÎtre and the lady-in-waiting received the guests in a small room of white and gold, with portraits of the royal family on the walls. The doors were opened and the Countess entered, and spoke to each person. She was elderly and dressed in black, and had a very pleasant, attractive face. The guests, who numbered about forty, included the Spanish, Her death occurred, very suddenly, the following autumn, just before our departure for Japan. For court mourning I was obliged to buy a crÊpe bonnet, such as was worn for a long period by all the diplomats’ wives and many of the Belgian ladies. But for the Duke of Fife they wore black for only four days. Mourning for the Duke of Luxembourg was for twenty-one days, the first ten days in black, after that in black and white. Teas and dinners, however, went on just the same. The funeral of the Countess was most imposing. I watched the procession from a house on the route, but L. went to St. Gudule with the rest of the Diplomatic Corps. Lines of soldiers guarded the streets as the procession, headed by the Garde Civique, passed along in the pouring rain. Following the Garde were troops of The Comtesse de Flandre had been very popular and was greatly missed. She was a kindly and much beloved old lady, and was certainly very active in society, going about everywhere, giving dinners and opening bazars. She showed especial favour to artists and musicians, and was herself a talented musician and etcher of landscapes. Another ceremony that we saw at St. Gudule’s To return to more cheerful subjects, we had the honour of dining with the Duchesse d’Ursel one evening. The d’Ursels, the de Lignes, and the de MÉrodes (Comtesse de MÉrode, we hear, Although the palace was so stately, and the doorkeeper wore a decoration on his livery, and the footmen were in maroon and shorts, with showy little gold shoulder-knots, the dinner was simple and well done, and so like one at home that it was really delightful. We passed up the fine staircase, with the balcony opening above and the plants as in a winter garden, and through salons in which chairs were arranged in the formal way that they affect abroad. The Prince and the Princess received us cordially, and, after dinner, we went into a small fumoir We were taken one day by the Princesse de Ligne to visit the palace of the d’Arenbergs in Brussels, which was the finest in the city next to the King’s. The great staircase was the most beautiful that I have ever seen—in its proportions and in the splendour of its marbles. The rooms were palatial, and there were so many wonderful tapestries and famous pictures! We saw the suite with a private entrance for royalties, where the Kaiser’s son Adelbert had been a guest a few days before. Notwithstanding all this glory the bathrooms had tubs for which the water had to be heated by gas in a stove. The old wing of the palace, which had belonged to Count Egmont in the sixteenth century, was burned some time ago, and many of his possessions were destroyed, notably the desk at which he wrote. The Duchesse d’Arenberg is the daughter of the Princesse de Ligne. The Duke is a German, and I have been told that before the war he removed all their superb collection to Germany. It is reported that extraordinary things went on beneath that roof previous to the invasion. Of the many “official” dinners that we attended one was with the Minister of the Interior, M. Berryer, who is a brilliant man. We also dined with Minister of State Beernaert, one of the wonderful old men of Europe, eighty-three years old when we were there, but quite alert and still an able statesman. Another dinner was given for us by M. Carton de Wiart, the Minister of Justice, and a writer of much ability. He was a member of the commission that came over here from Belgium in the autumn of 1914. This dinner was rather different from others that we had attended, for it was made up of the deputies. It was quite interesting to meet this entirely different class of men, whom I found to be very intelligent. The reception to the foreign ministers at a quarter-past ten New Year’s morning was postponed on account of the King’s indisposition. So L. went off to write in the King’s and the Queen’s books, which had to be protected by the crimson-liveried servants against the throng of people who were struggling to reach them. Among other functions the balls at the “Concert Noble” were very enjoyable; the music was good, and the vast assembly room was handsome and not crowded. The lofty suite of salons made an effective setting for the dancing. One night when we were there, the entrance was lined with men in gold and black, and the King and Queen came in, followed by gentlemen-in-waiting. They took their seats upon a raised daÏs, after walking through the rooms, and watched the dancing for a time. When supper was ready everybody stood about, and the King and Queen talked with different people. The life of the American Minister in Brussels, even in time of peace, was by no means all a Among our countrymen who came to the Legation, however, were many welcome visitors and not a few whom we had met in far distant parts of the world. There was Governor Pack, of the mountain province in the Philippines. The last time L. had seen him, he was ruling supreme among the head-hunting Igorrotes at Bontoc. With a small handful of brave and resourceful men as lieutenants, he had in a few years brought those extraordinary aborigines It is a curious thing that the men of affairs in Belgium—often some of the Ministers of State and the captains of industry—who were broad, up-to-date men, forceful and interesting, one seldom met socially. Even some of the King’s entourage could not join the Cercle du Parc, the most exclusive club in Brussels. I had a reception day every Tuesday, beginning in January, besides which there were various times at which we received diplomats and titled Belgians by themselves. One of the most interesting figures was the Papal Nuncio, who came in his robes, with magenta cape and cap and gloves, wearing his ring outside. The concierge and a chauffeur waved his motor under the porte-cochÈre; two servants opened the doors À double battant; and L. met him and escorted him upstairs, where we had tea and cakes. On Washington’s birthday we had another reception for Americans. The chancery was For a change from the official routine and the formal entertainments, we often started out on a rainy evening and walked the glistening boulevards down into the town, so gay with its brilliantly lighted shops and restaurants. Having been duly advised by our Secretary of Legation of a respectable place to which diplomats “might” go, we sought it out and had happy little dinners together, forgetting our troubles for the time. Perhaps the most delightful day I spent in Brussels was at Laeken. The Summer Palace The place was at its best for the royal garden party in May. As the invitations said two o’clock, we had luncheon early and set out at half after one. Soon we were careering up the fine avenue du Parc Royal, zigzagging from one side to the other as different officials gave us conflicting directions. Farther on, the road skirted the splendid park of Laeken, and we could look out over wide sweeps of lawn with great masses of trees and artificial waters winding in and out. Fine vistas led the eye up to the palace, which stood in a more formal setting of garden and terraces. At the great gate in front of the palace, grenadiers in bearskin shakos stood guard, with uniformed officials and red-coated servants in gold lace and plumed hats. The palace was still unfinished, but looked very impressive. About it were great clumps of rhododendrons and magnificent lilacs. The carriages stopped at the orangery, which had a long faÇade of stone columns and glass. Alighting, we passed into a perfect wonderland. To each side of us stretched a wing of a palace of crystal, with three rows of enormous orange trees arcading promenades. Beyond this we passed into the great palm house, a vast dome with palms so huge that they seemed to lose themselves in the height of the rotunda. The people strolling beneath them looked quite like pygmies in contrast. All the parterre was laid out with bright-coloured flowers. In a paved space in the center was held the royal circle. When the King and Queen arrived, the people arranged themselves along the sides—the Diplomatic Corps, the ministry, and prominent Belgians—and a band played gaily while Their Majesties came down the line. The scene was really fairylike. The circle lasted a long time, and we were beginning to weary of standing, when the royal party finally set out to make a tour of the greenhouses. The rest of us followed, glad of a chance to see the wonders of which we had heard so much—and wonders they were indeed, for who ever saw before a lovely chapel built entirely of glass? First we passed through a wide, two-aisled Here and there were little grottoes with mirrors, and fountains plashing; then more alleys, and another great house all aflame with azaleas. Steps led to the door of a pavilion. Here it was that King Leopold II had died. Our progress was not rapid, as the King and Queen stopped frequently to speak to different people. But we finally made the tour and returned to the great rotunda, where I felt as if I were standing in an unreal world, inside a giant soap-bubble of many colours. |