The Sunny Side of Diplomatic Life, 1875-1912. L. de Hegermann-Lindencrone
Massachusetts, where she lived with her grandfather, Judge Fay, in the fine old Fay mansion, now the property of Radcliffe College.
As a child Miss Greenough developed the remarkable voice which later was to make her well known, and when only fifteen years of age her mother took her to London to study under Garcia. Two years later Miss Greenough became the wife of Charles Moulton, the son of a well-known American banker, who had been a resident in Paris since the days of Louis Philippe. As Madame Charles Moulton the charming American became an appreciated guest at the court of Napoleon III. Upon the fall of the Empire Mrs. Moulton returned to America, where Mr. Moulton died, and a few years afterward she married M. de Hegermann-Lindencrone, at that time Danish Minister to the United States, and later periods his country's representative at Stockholm, Rome, Paris, Washington and Berlin.
THE ALPHABET OF A DIPLOMAT
| Ambassador | A man, just a little below God. |
| Attaché | The lowest rung of the ladder. |
| Blunder | How absurd! Why, never! … |
| Chancellery | The barn-yard where he is plucked. |
| Chief | The cock of the walk. |
| Colleagues | A question merely of time and place. |
| Court | Where one learns to make courtesies. |
| Decorations | The balm for all woes. |
| Dinners | The surest road to success. |
| Disponsibility | The Styx, whence no one returns. |
| Esprit (de corps) | The corps is there, but where is the esprit? |
| Etiquette | The Ten Commandments. |
| Finesse | A narrow lane where two can walk abreast. |
| Friendships | Ships that pass in the night. |
| Gotha (almanack) | The Bible of a Diplomat. |
| Highness | His, Her, make a deep courtesy. |
| Ignoramus | A person who does not agree with you. |
| Innuendo | An obscure side-light of truth. |
| Joke | Something beneath the dignity of a diplomat to notice. |
| Knowledge (private) | News which every one already knows. |
| Legation | Apartments to let. |
| Letters (de créance) | The first impression. |
| Letters (de rappel) | The last illusion. |
| Majesté (lèse) | Too awful to think of. |
| Majesties | Human beings with royal faults. |
| Nobodies | People to be avoided like poison. |
| Opulence | When in service. |
| Pension | Too small to be seen with the naked eye. |
| Poverty | When out of service. |
| Quo (status) | Diplomatic expression, meaning in French, Une jambe en l'air. |
| Ruse | A carefully disguised thought as transparent as a soap-bubble. |
| Secretary | Furniture easily moved. |
| Traditions | A door always open for refuge. |
| Traités (de paix) | A series of dinners paid for by a lavish government. |
| Uniform | A bestarred and beribboned livery. |
| Visits | The most important duty of a diplomat. |
| Wisdom | Good to have, but easily dispensed with. |
| Xpectations | A tree which seldom bears fruit. |
| Yawn | What a diplomat does over his rapports. |
| Zeal | Something a diplomat ought never to have too much of. |
The Sunny Side of Diplomatic Life
WASHINGTON, 1875–1880
WASHINGTON, November, 1875.
Dear Mother—After my hurriedly written letter of the 24th you will know that we have arrived here safely. My first introduction to my first post as diplomat's wife was made unwittingly by a gentleman walking with a friend just behind me. "Who is that gentleman?" said he, indicating Johan. "That? That is the Minister of Denmark." I, struggling with an arm-load of flowers culled from well-intentioned friends at different stations on the road, my maid and Johan's valet bringing up the rear with the overflow of small baggage, passed unnoticed. Now we are quite established here, and I have already commenced my diplomatic duties. There seems to be no end of card-leaving and card-receiving, and a list of rules on etiquette (the Ten Commandments of a Diplomat) as long as your arm. I never knew of anything so confusing. I try to remember the things that I must do and the things that I must not do. How many cold shower-baths of reproval have I already received; how many unruly things have I already done! We are invited to many dinners, luncheons, and entertainments of all kinds. I am knee-deep in engagements, actually wading in them. The engagement-book you gave me is already overfilled.
We were very much amused at the collection of newspaper cuttings you sent us. Johan thought the one describing him as "a massive blonde of magnificent proportions, whose pure heart and clean hands had won all hearts in Washington" [previous to winning mine], was much too personal. "The medals [his prized decorations] were not his fault, and should not be laid up against him; and as for the gold key which he wears on his back, it is considered