This is her letter in reply:
I advise you, dear Lillie, to do as their Majesties desire. The Crown Princess always wears the sleeves when in Stockholm, and I think it would be more polite and less awkward if you wore them also.
Therefore I had them made. Thursday came: my dress was ready and the obnoxious sleeves in their places, I quite admired them, and would not have minded wearing them every day. Still, I could not but think how a whole ballroom of ladies with them on must have appeared in Queen Christina"s time.
Although it was the duty of the Baroness to accompany me, I was not surprised when I received a long letter explaining how a severe headache had suddenly swooped down on her and would deprive her of that pleasure.
That was her way of getting over this _impa.s.se_.
The situation was awkward. This refusal at the eleventh hour was very annoying. I was not expected alone, but alone I should have to go.
There was no alternative, and the absence of the _doyenne_ must explain itself as best it could.
I arrived in solitary grandeur, and was conducted in state to the _salon_, where the _grande maitresse_--with the sleeves, of course!--was ready to receive me. She did not seem in the least surprised at seeing me alone; possibly the _doyenne_ had written her own account of the headache. I could see that she applauded the stand I had taken, so I felt that if I had lost favor with my colleagues I had gained it at court.
We went together to the _salon_, where we found the Queen. She rose and gave me her hand, and I bowed low over it. She was dressed all in black, with the white satin sleeves conspicuous under a long lace veil which hung from her head. She is very fine-looking, tall, and imposing, with a quiet and serious manner. She looks the personification of goodness.
I gave her the letter the Queen of Denmark had sent her. Then she talked of her brother (Duke of Na.s.sau), and said he had written about me and my singing, when we were both guests at _Chateau Furstenberg_.
The Queen added, "My brother is not musical" (indeed he was not), "but he said no singing had ever pleased him like yours." I bowed and tried not to look incredulous. "The King," she said, "is looking forward with great pleasure to seeing you again. He remembers a certain song you sang. Was it not "Beware," or something like that?"
I did not think it unlikely. I had sung it often enough, goodness knows.
I replied I did sing a song called that.
The dire step had been taken, and as far as sleeves were concerned the incident was closed.
When I reached home I changed my dress and drove to the house of the "suffering" _doyenne_. She had not expected such quick inquiries, for she looked the picture of health; and I met on the staircase a court lackey evidently bent on the same errand. She stammered a great many things about her headache, and how, when she had that particular _kind_ of headache, she was incapacitated from any effort. I sympathized deeply with her.
Her first question was, "Did the Queen have on the sleeves?"
"Certainly," I answered, curtly.
_January, 1891._
Dear L.,--King Oscar is a king after one"s ideas of what a king ought to be. He looks the king every inch of him, and that is saying a good deal, because he is over six feet. He has a splendid physique, is handsome and of much talent. He is a writer and a poet, and speaks all languages. You must be told that some kings are kings; but King Oscar, there is no doubt about what he is!
At a concert the other evening he came and sat by me, and began talking of music, of _his_ singing, and _my_ singing, and so forth, and finished by saying, "Would you like to have me come to you some day and sing?"
"Of course, your Majesty," I said. "I should be delighted. When may we have the honor of expecting you?"
"How would next Thursday be?" he asked. "And would half past two be agreeable to you?"
I replied, "Any day or any hour will suit me," although it was in fact the only day which did _not_ suit me, as it was my reception-day.
"I hope that we may be quite by ourselves," said the King. "Only you and the members of your Legation."
This I could easily promise, as I should have, in any case, closed my doors.
"Your Majesty will stay and have a cup of tea. I hope."
"With pleasure," he answered, "if that will not make my visit too long."
"Too long, your Majesty! How could it be too long?"
"Well, then, you may expect me."
How prepare for _les details_? Madame de Sevigny writes somewhere, "_que les details sont aussi chers a ceux que nous aimons, qu"ils sont ennuyeux aux autres_."
The servants laid the traditional red carpet on the staircase. Palms and plants were put in every possible place.
At two o"clock the servants were already on the watch. The _porte-cochere_ was wide open and the _concierge_ all in a flutter. The piano-tuner, who had just spent an hour tuning my Bechstein, had departed when a cart drew up in front of the door. What do you think it was? Nothing less than the King"s own piano, an _upright_ one, though it did connive at _deception_, as you will see. It was one of those pianos with which one could, by turning a key, lower the whole keyboard by half-tones, so that a barytone could masquerade as a tenor and spare the pianist the trouble of transposing the music, and no one would be the wiser.
This was emotion No. 1.
Emotion No. 2: a carriage which stood before the door brought Mr.
Halstrum, the pianist.
Emotion No. 3 was another carriage full of things--a music-stand, a quant.i.ty of music-books, his Majesty"s spectacles, and a mysterious basket.
Emotion No. 4: the servants, with all their heads out of the window, spied a carriage coming full tilt up the street. In it was M. Odman, the best tenor from the Opera.
Finally the royal equipage, of which there could be no doubt this time, was seen from way down the street. J. descended the stairs to receive his Majesty as his carriage entered the _porte-cochere_. I stood at the door of the apartment, and the King in his usual friendly manner said a hearty, "_G.o.d dag, G.o.d dag, Fru Hegermann_!"
He was attended by only one chamberlain. We went into the _salon_.
After a little while the King said, "What shall I sing for you?" and handed me a list of songs.
"Anything your Majesty sings will be delightful," I answered, eagerly.
"Yes, but you must choose," the King said.
I chose one I wanted to hear, but the King had already decided beforehand what he wanted to sing. (I might have spared myself the trouble.) He went toward the piano, but before he sang he took out of the mysterious basket an egg, which he broke and swallowed raw, to clear his voice. He began at the first song on the list, "Adeleide"
(Beethoven), and sang that and one after another of those on the list.
It seemed queer to have the _roles_ reversed in this way. I generally sang for royalty, but here royalty was singing for me.
[Ill.u.s.tration: KING OSCAR From an autographed photograph taken in 1896.]
The King and I sang the duet from "Romeo and Juliet" and his brother"s romance, "_I Rosens doft_," which I had sung with the King in Paris many years ago. I sang some of my songs--"Beware," of course. I wondered when the tenor, whom I was longing to hear, would come on the program.
He only came once, and that was when he sang a duet with his Majesty, a duet which the King had had arranged from the Jacobite song called "Charlie is my Darling."
The tenor, whose English was not his strong point, sang with great pathos "Cha-r-r-r-r-r-r-lie es my tarling," as if a love-sick maiden were calling her lover. When the King sings he throws his whole soul into the music. If Providence had bestowed a beautiful voice on him he would have done wonders, but one cannot expect a sovereign to give much time to cultivating his talents.
Our music finished, tea was served, and his Majesty, apparently pleased with his visit, left at five o"clock.
Here is something the King wrote in my, alb.u.m which is very characteristic of him: "If you do anything, do it without delay and with your whole heart and mind."
_January, 1891._
Dear L.,--I am going to give you a detailed account of the visit of the Crown Prince and Princess of Denmark, their annual visit for the King"s birthday. Johan left the evening before to go to Kathrineholm, the last station before Stockholm, in order to meet their Highnesses, and from there to take the train and arrive here with them. Several of the King"s household did the same.