COURTS AND KINGS

REMINISCENCES OF A DIPLO MATIST’S WIFE.

An interesting volume of memoirs has just been published by A. and C. Black, entitled “Reminiscences of a Diplomatist’s Wife,” written by Lady Macdonell, widow of Sir Hugh Guion Macdonell, a distinguished member of Britain’s diplomatic service. Reviewing the book in the Daily Chronicle, Tighe Hopkins writes : Hugh Guion, a subaltern in. the second battalion of the Rifle Brigade, was badly wounded in the first Kaffir War, and this it was that cast him into diplomacy. For, when the Crimean War was declared, the medical board refused to pass" him, and he was offered by Queen Victoria an attacheship in the diplomatic service. He began his new career at Florence under Lord Northmanby, and went thence to Constantinople, where his chief was Sir Henry Bulwer, In 1869 he was appointed First Secretary to the British Legation at Buenos Aires, and here he met and married the lady who gives Us these /‘Reminiscences.” During thirty years diplomacy was to carry the Macdonells into many countries. Their exodus from Buenos Aires was in 1872, and the pilgrimage thus entered on lasted until Sir Hugh’s retirement a generation lafer, in 1902: Madrid, 1872-75,- Berlin, 1875-78 ; Rome, 1878-1882; Munich, 1882-85; Rio de Janeiro, 1885-88 ; Copenhagen, 1888-92; Lisbon, 1893-1902. fiete was a great deal of house-hunting, house-mounting, and house-moving. Until Lisbon is reached, the period of sojourn at this embassy and that is about three years; the time to settle comfortably down, and make friends, and grow familiar with a new language. But the nomadic life of diplomacy is one that can seldom pall, and the diplomatists and their ladies seem to quit one sphere for another as readily as (according to Lowell) the American leaves his faith, his opinions, and the house that he was bom in. Still, your diplomatist has, of course, very little choice in the matter. At Madrid (where the drainage was awful) they ran into a raw Republic, the puppet King, Amadeo, having but just fled the throne; and Lady Macdonell herself had presently to leave the country with 'her sick children. Berlin, where the Crown Prince Frederick and our Princess Royal seem always to have had a welcome for the English, proved very friendly. With Prince William, the Kaiser of to-day, Lady Macdonell used to play draughts; Mid once, in a moment of forgetfulness, she boxed his ears, because he, in a moment of forgetfulness, had accused her of cheating; “I received full punishment later, for ever afterwards when he met me he used to cry, T know a lady who cheats at draughts.’ ” If there were any dull hours at Berlin, Lord Odo Russell turned on a stream of anecdote: “One of his favourite stories, related to the time when the Emperor and Empress of the French were coming over to the opening of the great Exhibition in London, and the Lord Mayor was to present an address. A deputation came to ask Lord Clarendon hqw it was to be worded, as the Empress was expecting the birtn of the Prince Imperial, and they wished to know whether any allusion should be made to it. The' Lord Mayor ended by saying, ‘You see, my lord, there’s the ’itch.’ ‘Then scratch it,’ replied Lord Clarendon.” At Rome was encountered one of Lord Acton’s heroes, that prodigy of learning and theology, Dr. Bollinger, excommunicated by the Pope for his controversy on the Infallibility; “a tiny little wizened-up old gentleman,' speaking English perfectly.” When the Macdonells went to Munich in 1882, King Ludwig 11. of Bavaria was still at large, though all his',eccentricities showed the approach of madness. He had built for Wagner “a house exactly like a ship,” and for himself a marvellous palace at Chiemsee, in the heights of the Bavarian Tyrol. “To this palace he often retired. Every detail of the Louis XIV. era was carried out, even the brocade coats, silk stockings, kneebreeches, and powdered wigs of the servants. A banquet was laid every day for thirty people. _ The King arrived, bowing to the imaginary guests, and the attendants were obliged to wear a black satin mask, as he hated human faces.” Not long afterwards the poor King committed suicide, drowning his doctor with him. He had been engaged to Die sister of the Empress Elisabeth of Austria; the lady, broke off the match, and the King’s mind never recovered from the shock. The death of Sir S. Lowcock gave Sir Hugh his promotion as Minister Plenipotentiary‘to Rio de Janeiro. The throne of Brazil at this date was occupied by one of the most scholarly and charming sovereigns in the world, the Emperor Pedro 11., son of the ex-King of Portugal, “ who fled from that country and became Emperor of Brazil, 1840.” “ A more scholarly and kind-hearted man never lived,” says Lady Macdonell, and his Imperial style was of the simplest sort: “On being summoned to pay Our respects to His Majesty, we arrived at the palace and found no one to usher us in. We stood and clapped our hands, and a black man in gorgeous green livery embroidered in gold, but with bare feet (looking not unlike a lizard) came forward, grinned broadly, and said in broken English: * You come see Emperor? Please this way.’ ” The Emperor Pedro 11. was too good for the Brazilians, so they dethroned him.

Yet again, in 1888, husband and wife crossed the ocean, Sir Hugh having accepted the offer of Copenhagen. Here they were once more in the midst of civilisation, and in touch, of course, with our own Royal Family. King Christian IX., a youtliful veteran of seventy, rode and waltzed like a stripling, and fascinated everyone. His Majesty "sometimes paid very unceremonious visits, which on one occasion led to an amusing incident. He arrived one morning, accompanied only by a collie dog, the gift of Queen Victoria. A new footman answered the door, and, leaving the King in the hall, came up to my room in some agitation, saying: ‘ There’s a man downstairs with a dog who wants to see your ladyship, and he says he’s the King of Denmark.’ ”