The Puppet Show of Memory

In such a place any complicated nursing was out of the question. The main duties of those who attempted to relieve the sick consisted in bringing warm clothes and covering to those who were in rags and shivering; soup to those who were faint and exhausted, and water to those who were crying for it; and during the first few days at San Stefano all the sick were crying for water, and crying for it all day and all night long. You could not go into any of the rooms without hearing a piteous chorus of “Doctor Effendi, Doctor Bey, sou, sou” (sou is the Turkish for water). Luckily the water supply was good. There was a clean spring not far from the school, and water mixed with disinfectant could be given to the sick. The sick and the well at first were crowded together absolutely indiscriminately. A man who had nothing the matter with him besides hunger and faintness would be next to a man who was already rigid and turning grey in the last comatose stage of cholera.

During the first week of this desperate state of things Miss Alt and Madame Schneider worked like slaves. They spent the whole day, and very often the whole night, in bringing clothes to the ragged, food to the hungry, and water to the thirsty. Mr. Frew managed the whole commissariat and the food supply, and he managed it with positive genius. He smoothed over difficulties, he razed obstacles, and in all the creaking joints of the difficult machinery he poured the inestimable oil of his cheerfulness, his good-humour, and his kindness. Major Ford acted with an equal energy in taking over the medical side of the school and in sorting from the heaped-up sick those who were less ill, and separating them from those who were dangerously ill; and in this task he had the help of Mr. Philip. This sounds a simple thing to say. It was in practice and in fact incredibly difficult. During the first days there were scarcely any orderlies at all and few soldiers, and it was a desperately slow and difficult task to get people carried from one place to another. One afternoon, which I shall never forget as long as I live, Major Ford undertook in one of the crowded rooms to shift temporarily all the sick from one side of the room to the other side of it, and while they were there to lay down a clean piece of oilcloth. This was immensely difficult. The patients, of course, were unwilling to move. First of all it had to be explained to them that the thing was not a game, and that it would be to their ultimate advantage; and then they had to be bribed from one side of the room to the other with baits of lemons and cigarettes. Nevertheless, Major Ford managed to do it and get down a clean piece of oilcloth. When one had spent the whole day in this place, and one had seen people like Miss Alt, Madame Schneider, Major Ford, and Mr. Frew working like slaves from morning till night, one still had the feeling nothing had been done at all compared with what remained undone, so overwhelming were the odds. And yet at the end of one week there was a vast change for the better in the whole situation.

Great as was the distress of the wretched victims, they were sublime in their resignation. They consented, like Job, in what was worse than dust and ashes, to the working of the Divine will. They most of them had military water-bottles; they used to implore to have these bottles filled; and when they were filled—thirsty as they were—they would not drink all the water, but they kept a little back in order to perform the ablutions which the Mohammedan religion ordains should accompany the prayers of the faithful. Even in their agony the Turks never lost one particle of their dignity, and never for one moment forgot their perfect manners. They died as they lived—like the Nature’s noblemen they are—always acknowledging every assistance; and when they refused a gift or an offer they put into the refusal the graciousness of an acceptance.

Only those who have been to Turkey can have any idea of the politeness, the innate politesse du cœur, of the Turk. One day when I was coming back from San Stefano on board a Turkish Government launch, and together with an English officer I was talking to the Turkish naval officer who was in command of the launch, the Englishman offered a cigarette to the Turkish officer. He accepted it and lit it. The Englishman then offered one to the officer’s younger brother, who was there also. “He does not smoke,” said the officer. Then he added, after a pause, “I do not either.” “He has lit and smoked the cigarette so as not to offend me,” said the Englishman aside to me. This is typical of the kind of politeness the Turks show. Equally polite were the soldiers who were dying of a horrible disease amidst awful conditions. They never forgot their manners. They were childlike and infinitely pathetic in their wants. One man in a tent where some of the convalescent were assembled cried out in Turkish his need—which was interpreted to me by a Greek. He wanted a candle, by which a man, he said, might tell stories to the others; for, he added, it was impossible for a story-teller to tell stories in the dark; the audience could not see his face. There was no candle in the place, but I am not ashamed to say that I stole a small lamp and gave it to this man to afford illumination to that story-telling. Another man wanted a lemon. There were then no lemons. The man produced a five-piastre piece (a franc, nearly a shilling). This was a large fortune to him, but he offered it to me if I could get him a lemon. One soldier refused either to eat or to drink. He would not touch either soup or milk or water or sour milk, which was the favourite dish of the soldiers there, and which, being a national dish of Turkey, could be supplied to them in great quantities. He kept on reiterating one word. It turned out to mean prune soup. He was hankering after prune soup. He wanted prune soup and nothing else. Another man wanted a pencil above all things, which was duly given him.

The gratitude of these poor people to anyone who did any little thing for them was immense. “Allah will restore to you everything you have done for us a hundredfold,” they would say. Or again: “You are more than a doctor to us; you are a friend.” One day Mr. Philip brought some flowers to the sick soldiers. Their delight knew no bounds. The Turks love flowers. They treasured them. They even sacrificed their water-bottles—and every drop of water was precious to them—to keep the flowers fresh a little longer.

The curious resignation of the Turkish character used often to be manifest in a striking way, in little matters. Here is an instance which struck me. When lemons or cigarettes, or indeed anything else, were distributed to the patients, one cigarette or one lemon, as the case might be, was given to each man all round the room. Sometimes a patient would ask for two, and his demand used to arouse the indignation of his fellow-patients, which they often expressed in violent terms. Nevertheless, he would persist in his demand, and would keep on saying: “Give me two, Doctor, give me two”; and finally one of the Turkish orderlies present would nod his head and say: “Yes, give him two”; and then he would be given two, and the other patients, instead of grumbling, would acquiesce in the fait accompli and say: “Yes, yes, give him two.” It was curious that they never dreamt of all of them asking for two of any one thing; but the importunate were acknowledged to be privileged, if they were sufficiently importunate. One morning, when lemons were being distributed to the soldiers, each man receiving a lemon apiece, one, who like the rest wore a fez, said in a whisper to the distributor: “δῶσέ μοι δύο εἶμαι Χριστιανός” (“Give me two. I am a Christian”). There were several Greeks among the sick, and I regret to say that when they were given shirts they frequently sold them to their neighbours, and then appeared naked the next day and asked for another.

Miss Alt’s plan was to give to all who asked—the undeserving as well as the deserving—and the plan worked out quite well in the long run, for, as she said, they were none of them too well off.

After the first few days the Turkish medical authorities took steps in the matter of the Greek school. During the first week of the work there, a British unit of the Turkish Red Crescent arrived from England under the sound direction of Dr. Baines, and a further recruit joined the helpers in the person of Lady Westmacott, who brought with her an energetic, clever and untiring Russian doctor. Although it was impossible to persuade any of the owners of the houses at San Stefano to allow them to be used as hospitals, a house was found for Dr. Baines’ unit. He soon set up a lot of tents, withdrew from the overcrowded school a number of the patients, and was able to do excellent work. But he received this house for himself and his staff on the express condition that no sick of any kind whatsoever, and not even the owner’s father, should be allowed to go into it. Later on, a unit of the Egyptian Red Crescent arrived, with a staff of German doctors and an Englishman. Wooden barracks were built for them in the plain outside the Greek school, fronting the sea.

Hard words were said about the Turkish medical authorities with regard to this matter; and it is, of course, easy for people who know nothing about the local conditions and the local difficulties to pass sweeping judgments. On the whole, I was told by competent authorities, the Turkish Red Crescent did exceedingly well in dealing with the wounded and the sick in the large field of their operations. But an epidemic of cholera such as that which I have described seemed to paralyse them. It took the Turks unprepared. Steps were taken, but tardily; and to Western minds the procedure seemed incredibly and criminally slow; yet in the East it is impossible to do things in a hurry, and if you try to hustle, you will find that there will be less speed in the long run. If you consider all these things, the Turkish medical authorities, and especially the Turkish doctor in charge at San Stefano, did their best when once they started to work. But when the appalling situation arose at San Stefano, when the cholera victims were lying like flies on the railway embankment, they took no steps to face the situation until they were stimulated to do so by the example of Miss Alt and Madame Schneider and the pressure of foreign opinion. This was partly due to the fatalism of their outlook, to the resignation of their temperament, and partly to the disorder which was rife throughout their military organisation. As to San Stefano, which is the small area I had the opportunity of observing personally, had it not been for the spontaneous efforts of Miss Alt, Madame Schneider, and Mr. Frew, the Turkish and Greek soldiers who were shut up in the cholera camp, without any possibility of egress, would have died of hunger and thirst. It must be remembered, as I have said before, that among the cholera patients there were a great number of soldiers who were suffering simply and solely from exhaustion and starvation.

After the arrival of the British unit of the Red Crescent, and that of the Egyptian Red Crescent, matters were got into shape at San Stefano, and there was no longer need of volunteers. The worst cases had died. Those who had been suffering from exhaustion and starvation recovered and were sent home. Those who had mild attacks of cholera and dysentery became convalescent, and were moved into the tents. Rooms were cleared out for the worst cases, and it was possible to introduce beds, and to clear up matters. What was at the beginning an ante-chamber to Hell was later, I believe, converted into a clean hospital with all the necessary appliances and attendants.

That this was done was due to the initial enterprise of Miss Alt and Madame Schneider. They were the leading spirits and the soul of this undertaking. Their work was untiring and incessant. To have seen Miss Alt at work was a rare privilege. Impervious to disgust, but saturated with pity, overflowing with love and radiating charity, she threaded her way, bowed with age and with silvered hair, like a good angel or a kind fairy, from tent to tent, from room to room, laden with gifts; unconscious of the filth, disdainful of the stench, blind to the hideous sights, she went her way, giving with both hands, helping with her arms, cheering with her speech, and healing with her smile. Miss Alt came to San Stefano like an angel to Hell, and she could have said, like Beatrice:

CHAPTER XXIV
THE FASCINATION OF RUSSIA

From 1912 until the summer of 1914 I spent the greater part of the year in Russia. I was no longer doing journalistic work, but I was still writing books on Russian life and literature. The longer I stayed in Russia, the more deeply I felt the fascination of the country and the people. In one of his books Gogol has a passage apostrophising his country from exile, and asking her the secret of her fascination. “What is,” he says, “the inscrutable power which lies hidden in you? Why does your aching, melancholy song echo forever in my ears? Russia, what do you want of me? What is there between you and me?”

The question has often been repeated, not only by Russians in exile, but by foreigners who have lived in Russia, and I have often found myself asking it. The country has little obvious glamour and attraction. In Russia, as Gogol says, the wonders of Nature are not made more wonderful by man; there are no spots where Nature, art, and time combine to take the heart with beauty; where association, and even decay are indistinguishably mingled; and Nature is not only beautiful but picturesque; where time has worked magic on man’s handiwork, and history has left behind a host of phantoms.

There are many such places in France and in England, in Italy, Spain, and Greece, but not in Russia. Russia is a country of colonists, where life has been a perpetual struggle against the inclemency of the climate, and where the political history is the record of a desperate battle against adverse circumstances. Russia’s oldest city was sacked and burnt just at the moment when it was beginning to flourish; her first capital was destroyed by fire in 1812; her second capital dates from the seventeenth century; stone houses are rare in the country, and the wooden houses are frequently destroyed by fire. It is a country of long winters and fierce summers, of rolling plains, uninterrupted by mountains and unvariegated by valleys.

But the charm is there. It is felt by people of different nationalities and races; it is difficult, if you live in Russia, to escape it, and once you have felt it, you will never be quite free from it. The melancholy song, which Gogol says wanders from sea to sea over the length and breadth of the land, will echo in your heart and haunt the corner of your brain. It is impossible to analyse charm, for if charm could be analysed it would cease to exist; and it is difficult to define the character of places where beauty makes so little instantaneous appeal, and where there is no playground of romance, and few ghosts of poetry and of history.

Turgeniev’s descriptions of the country give an idea of this peculiar magic. For instance, the story of the summer night, when on the plain the children tell each other bogy tales; or the description of that other July evening, when out of the twilight, a long way off on the plain, a child’s voice is heard calling: “Antropka—a—a,” and Antropka answers: “Wha—a—a—a—a—at?” and far away out of the immensity comes the answering voice: “Come ho—ome, because daddy wants to whip you.”

Those who travel in their arm-chair will meet in Turgeniev with glimpses, episodes, pictures, incidents, sayings and doings, touches of human nature, phases of landscape, shades of atmosphere, which contain the secret and the charm of Russia. All who have travelled in Russia not only recognise the truth of his pictures, but agree that the incidents which he records with incomparable art are a common experience to those who have eyes to see. The picturesque peculiar to countries rich in historical traditions is absent in Russia; but beauty is not absent, and it is often all the more striking from its lack of obviousness.

This was brought home to me strongly in the summer of 1913. I was staying in a small wooden house in Central Russia, not far from a railway, but isolated from other houses, and at a fair distance from a village. The harvest was nearly done. The heat was sweltering. The country was parched and dry. The walls and ceilings were black with flies. One had no wish to venture out of doors until the evening.

The small garden of the house, gay with asters and sweet-peas, was surrounded by birch trees, with here and there a fir tree in their midst. Opposite the little house, a broad pathway, flanked on each side by a row of tall birch trees, led to the margin of the garden, which ended in a steep grass slope, and a valley, or a wooded dip; and beyond it, on the same level as the garden, there was a pathway half hidden by trees; so that from the house, if you looked straight in front of you, you saw a broad path, with birch trees on each side of it, forming a proscenium for a wooded distance; and if anybody walked along the pathway on the farther side of the dip, although you saw no road, you could see the figures in outline against the sky, as though they were walking across the back of a stage.

Just as the cool of the evening began to fall, out of the distance came a rhythmical song, ending on a note that seemed to last for ever, piercingly clear and clean. The music came a little nearer, and one could distinguish first a solo chanting a phrase, and then a chorus taking it up, and finally, solo and chorus became one, and reached a climax on a high note, which grew purer and stronger, and more and more long drawn-out, without any seeming effort, until it died away.

The tone of the voices was so high, so pure, and at the same time so peculiar, strong and rare, that it was difficult at first to tell whether the voices were tenors, sopranos, or boyish trebles. They were unlike, both in range and quality, the voices of women one usually heard in Russian villages. The music drew nearer, and it filled the air with a majestic calm. Presently, in the distance, beyond the dip between the trees, and in the middle of the natural stage made by the garden, I saw, against the sky, figures of women walking slowly in the sunset, and singing as they walked, carrying their scythes and their wooden rakes with them; and once again the phrase began and was repeated by the chorus; and once again chorus and solo melted together in a high and long-drawn-out note, which seemed to swell like the sound of a clarion, to grow purer, more single, stronger and fuller, till it ended suddenly, sharply, as a frieze ends. The song seemed to proclaim rest after toil, and satisfaction for labour accomplished. It was like a hymn of praise, a broad benediction, a grace sung for the end of the day: the end of the summer, the end of the harvest. It expressed the spirit of the breathless August evening.

The women walked past slowly and disappeared into the trees once more. The glimpse lasted only a moment, but it was enough to start a long train of thought and to call up pictures of rites, ritual, and custom; of rustic worship and rural festival, of Pagan ceremonies older than the gods.

As another verse of what sounded like a primeval harvest hymn began, the brief glimpse of the reapers, erect and majestic in the dress of toil, and laden with the instruments of the harvest, the high quality of the singing:

made the place into a temple of august and sacred calm in the quiet light of the evening. The sacerdotal figures that passed by, diminutive in the distance, belonged to an archaic vase or frieze. The music seemed to seal a sacrament, to be the initiation into an immemorial secret, into some remote mystery—who knows?—perhaps the mystery of Eleusis, or into still older secrecies of which Eleusis was the far-distant offspring. A window had been opened on to another phase of time, on to another and a brighter world; older than Virgil, older than Romulus, older than Demeter—a world where the spring, the summer, and the autumn, harvest-time, and sowing, the gathering of fruits and the vintage, were the gods; and through this window came a gleam from the golden age, a breath from the morning and the springtide of mankind.

When I say that the singing called up thoughts of Greece, the thing is less fantastic than it seems. In the first place, in the songs of the Russian peasants, the Greek modes are still in use: the Dorian, the hypo-Dorian, the Lydian, the hypo-Phrygian. “La musique, telle qu’elle était pratiquée en Russie au moyen age” (writes M. Soubier in his History of Russian Music), “tenait à la tradition des religions et des mœurs païennes.” And in the secular as well as in the ecclesiastical music of Russia there is an element of influence which is purely Hellenic. It turned out that the particular singers I heard on that evening were not local, but a guild of women reapers who had come from the government of Tula to work during the harvest. Their singing, although the form and kind of song were familiar to me, was different in quality from any that I had heard before; and the impression made by it unforgettable.

Nature in Russia is, broadly speaking, monotonous and uniform, but this does not mean that beauty is rare. Not only magic moments occur in the most unpromising surroundings, but beauty is to be found in Russian nature and Russian landscape at all times and all seasons in many shapes.

For instance: a long drive in the evening twilight at harvest-time, over the immense hedgeless rolling plains, through stretches of golden wheat and rye, variegated with millet, still green and not yet turned to the bronze colour it takes later; when you drive for miles over monotonous and yet ever-varying fields, and when you see, in the distance, the cranes, settling for a moment, and then flying off into space.

Later in the twilight, continents of dove-coloured clouds float in the east, the west is tinged with the dusty afterglow of the sunset; and the half-reaped corn and the spaces of stubble are burnished and glow in the heat; and smouldering fires of weeds burn here and there; and as you reach a homestead, you will perhaps see by the threshing-machine, a crowd of dark men and women still at their work; and in the glow from the flame of a wooden fire, in the shadow of the dusk, the smoke of the engine and the dust of the chaff, they have a Rembrandt-like power; the feeling of space, breadth, and air and immensity grows upon one; the earth seems to grow larger, the sky to grow deeper, and the spirit is lifted, stretched, and magnified.

Russian poets have celebrated more frequently the spring and winter—the brief spring which arrives so suddenly after the melting of the snows, with the intense green of the birch-trees, the uncrumpling fern; woods carpeted with lilies of the valley; the lilac bushes, the nightingale, and later the briar, which flowers in profusion; and the winter: the long drives in a sledge under a leaden sky to the tinkle of monotonous bells; a whistling blizzard with its demons, that lead the horses astray in the night; transparent woods black against an immense whiteness; or covered with snow and frozen, an enchanted fabric against the stainless blue; or, when after a night of thaw, the brown branches emerge once more covered with airy threads and sparkling drops of dew.

The sunset and twilight of the winter evening after the first snow had fallen in December used to be most beautiful. The new moon, like a little sail on a cold sea, tinged with a blush as it reached the earth, flooded the snow with light, and added to its purity; the snow had a blue glint in it and showed up the wooden houses, the red roofs, the farm implements in a bold relief; so that all these prosaic objects of everyday life assumed a strange largeness and darkness as they loomed between the earth and the sky.

What I used to enjoy more than anything in Russia were the summer afternoons on the river near Sosnofka, where the flat banks were covered with oak-trees, ash, willow, and thick undergrowth; and where every now and then, perch rose to the surface to catch flies, and the kingfishers skimmed over the surface from reach to reach. Sometimes I used to take a boat and row past islands of rushes, and a network of water-lilies, to where the river broadened; and I reached a great sheet of water flanked by a weir and a mill. The trees were reflected in the glassy surface, and nothing broke the stillness but the grumbling of the mill and the cries of the children bathing.

Near the village, all through the summer night (this was in June 1914), I used to hear song answering song, and the brisk rhythm of the accordion; or the interminable humming, buzzing burden of the three-stringed balalaika; verse succeeded verse of an apparently tireless song, and the end of each verse seemed to beget another and give a keener zest to the next; and the song waxed faster and madder, as if the singer were intoxicated by the sound of his own music.

But the peculiar manifestations of the beauty of nature in a flat and uniform country are not enough to account for the fascination of Russia. Beauty is a part of it, but it is not all. Against these things in the other scale you had to put dirt, squalor, misery, slovenliness, disorder, and the uninspiring wooden provincial towns, the dusty or sodden roads, the frequent grey skies, the long and heavy sameness.

The advocatus diaboli had a strong case. He could have drawn up a powerful indictment, not only against the political conditions, and the arbitrary and uncertain administration, but also against the character of the people; he could mention the moral laxity, the extravagant self-indulgence, the lack of control, the jealousy which hounded any kind of superiority; and looked with suspicion on all that was original or distinguished; the dead level of mediocrity; the stereotyped bureaucratic pattern which you could not escape from. The Russians, he would say, had all the faults of the Orient without any of its austerer virtues; Russia, he would say, was a nation of ineffectual rebels under the direction of a band of corrupt and time-serving officials. The indictment was true, but however glaring the faults which Russian moralists, satirists, and politicians used so frequently and so loudly to deplore, the faults that used to make foreigners in Russia so angry at times, they seemed to me the negative results of positive qualities so valuable as to outweigh them altogether.

During my stays in Russia I saw some of the worst as well as some of the best aspects of the country and its people. The net result of all I saw and all I experienced was the sense of an overpowering charm in the country, an indescribable fascination in the people. The charm was partly due to the country itself, partly to the manner of life lived there, and partly to the nature of the people. The qualities that did exist, and whose benefit I experienced, seemed to me the most precious of all qualities; the virtues the most important of all virtues; the glimpses of beauty the rarest in kind; the songs and the music the most haunting and most heart-searching; the poetry nearest to nature and man; the human charity nearest to God.

This is perhaps the secret of the whole matter, that the Russian soul is filled with a human Christian charity which is warmer in kind and intenser in degree, and expressed with a greater simplicity and sincerity, than is to be met with in any other people; it was the existence of this quality behind everything else which gave charm to Russian life (however squalid the circumstances might be), poignancy to its music, sincerity and simplicity to its religion, manners, intercourse, music, singing, verse, art, acting—in a word to its art, its life, and its faith.

Never did I realise this so much as one day when I was driving on a cold and damp December evening in St. Petersburg in a cab. It was dark, and I was driving along the quays from one end of the town to the other. For a long time I drove in silence, but after a while I happened to make some remark to the cabman about the weather. He answered gloomily that the weather was bad and so was everything else too. For some time we drove on in silence, and then in answer to some other stray remark or question of mine he said he had been unlucky that day in the matter of a fine. It was a trivial point, but somehow or other my interest was aroused, and I got him to tell me the story, which was a case of bad luck and nothing serious; but when he had told it, he gave such a profound sigh that I asked whether it was that which was still weighing upon him. Then he said “No,” and slowly began to tell me a story of a great catastrophe which had just befallen him. He possessed a little land, and a cottage in the country, not far from St. Petersburg. His house had been burnt. It was true the house was insured, but the insurance was not sufficient to make an appreciable difference. He had two sons; one went to school, and the other had some employment in the provinces. The catastrophe of the fire had upset everything. All his belongings had perished. He could no longer send his boy to school. His second son, in the country, had written to say he was engaged to be married, and had asked his consent, advice, and approval. “He has written twice,” said the cabman, “and I keep silence (i ya molchu). What can I answer?” I cannot give any idea of the strength, simplicity, and poignancy of the tale as it came, hammered out slowly, with pauses between each sentence, with a dignity of utterance and a purity of idiom which used to be the precious privilege of the poor in Russia. The words came as if torn out from the bottom of his heart. He made no complaint; there was no grievance, no whine in the story. He stated the bald facts with a simplicity which was overwhelming. In spite of all, his faith in God and his consent to the will of Providence was unshaken, certain, and sublime.

This happened in 1911. I have forgotten the details; but I knew I had been face to face with a human soul, stripped and naked, and a human soul in the grip of a tragedy. This experience, which brought one in touch with the divine, is one which, I think, could only in such circumstances occur in Russia. I wrote this in the year 1913 when I was summing up my impressions on Russian life, and trying to analyse the nature of the fascination the country had for me. When I had finished, I echoed the words which R. L. Stevenson once addressed to a French novelist: “J’ai beau admirer les autres de toute ma force, c’est avec vous que je me complais à vivre.”

In the spring of 1914 I went back to Russia for the last time before the war. I spent over a month by myself at Sosnofka, writing a book, an outline of Russian literature, and bathing every afternoon in the river where the sweetbriar grew on the banks by the willows, and the kingfisher used every now and then to dart across the oily-looking water.

It was a wonderful spring. The nightingales sang all day long in the garden; and all night long people were singing in the village. Nature was steeped in beauty and calm. It was a month of accidental retreat before tremendous events and the changing of the world.

I knew nothing of public events, but I was suddenly seized with the desire to go home. I debated whether to go or not. I had finished my book, but as I meant to come back to Russia in August it seemed perhaps foolish to go. I thought I would leave it to chance. I decided to take the Sortes Shakespearianæ. I opened a volume at random, and my pencil fell on the phrase: “Pack and be gone” (Comedy of Errors, iii. 2, 158). I waited another day and repeated the experiment. My pencil again fell on the same line. Then I settled to go. I started one evening, and in the morning when I arrived at the Friedrichsstrasse Station at Berlin, I saw in the newspapers the news of the assassination of the Austrian Archduke. I might have said: “Incipit vita nova,” but I didn’t. I didn’t even think it. I was merely conscious of a small cloud on an otherwise stainless sky.

FOOTNOTES

INDEX

• A.D.C., the, 144, 153.
• A. R. at Cambridge, 146.
• Abbé Constantin (L’), 92, 305.
• Abdul Hamid, dethroned, 397.
• Abingdon, 142.
• Acropolis, Athens, 254, 256.
• Addington, 138.
• Adonaïs, Shelley, 161, 163.
• Adrienne Lecouvreur, 232;
• produced by Sarah Bernhardt, 305;
• Scribe and Legouvé’s, 308-9.
• Adventures of Sophy, Violet Fane, 247.
• Afoo, Chinese servant, 276, 279-80.
• Agadir crisis, 212.
• Agincourt, Admiral Glyn’s ship, 47.
• Aiglon (L’), 233, 243;
• first performance, the Hon. Maurice Baring’s article in the Speaker, 199-204;
• Sarah Bernhardt in, 305.
• Ainger’s (House), Eton, 88.
• Airlie, Lady, 62.
• Aladin, deputy, 340, 347.
• Albani, Madame, 27, 52.
• Albanians in Uskub, 415-16.
• Albert Hall, 26, 139.
• — Prince, 131.
• Albo, Pomeranian, 39.
• Alexander, butler, 220, 223.
• — comic actor, 136.
• Alexandra, Queen, 348;
• visit to Copenhagen, 225-26.
• Alexandria, 168.
• Alexandrovna, Marie, 348 note.
• Alexei, boot-boy, 220.
• Alexeieff, Viceroy, 263.
• Alice in Wonderland, 170.
• Allen, Mr. J., 154.
• Alt, Miss, at San Stefano, 421-29 passim.
• Amants, Maurice Donnay, 166.
• Âme païenne (L’), Brewster, 250.
• American-Spanish War, 71.
• Amour de l’Art, Labiche, 86.
• Andersen, Hans, 208.
• Anderson, Mary, in The Lady of Lyons, 53-54.
• Anderton’s Hotel, 151.
• André, watchman, 220, 222.
• Andromaque, 243.
• Angelo, Hugo, 305.
• Angelo, Michael, a farmhouse of, 167.
• Angers, 198.
• Anglo-Saxon Review, poem by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 198.
• Anna Karenina, 219.
• Annie, nursemaid, 2, 8, 19, 37.
• Annunzio, Gabriele d’, poems, 140, 232;
• Vernon Lee on, 187;
• La Gioconda, 305, 309;
• proposed dramatic version of Paolo and Francesca, 246.
• Antoine, actor, 197.
• — Théâtre, 265.
• Antrim, Lord, 24.
• Apostles, Society of the, 145-46.
• April Fools’ Day memories, 24-25.
• Apron Stage, use in Copenhagen theatres, 210.
• Aranci Bay, 395.
• Arbuthnot, 68.
• Archangel, 358, 360.
• Archer, Fred, 83.
• Archibald, photographer, 276-77.
• Arena Nazionale, Florence, 311.
• Army, the Russian, condition at opening of the Duma, 340-41;
• discontent, 353.
• — the Turkish, weapons of the, 413.
• Arnaut refugees, 416.
• Arnim, Frau von, 136.
• Arnold, Matthew, 110, 112, 414.
• Art Theatre, Moscow, 265-66, 323-24.
• Artemis, Mr. Gladstone’s lecture on, 108.
• Arthur, Port, 263, 314.
• Arundel Park, a May night, 4-5.
• As in a Looking-Glass, 93-94, 232.
• Ascot, the school at, 68-86.
• — races, 79-80.
• Ashburton, Lady, 26.
• — Lord, 62.
• Asquith, Raymond, The North Street Gazette, 390-95.
• Assisi, earthquake at, 158-59.
• Assiz Bey, 397.
• Assumption, Cathedral of the, Moscow, 334-35.
  Astrakan, the journey to, 375-79;
• atmosphere, 380.
• Astrophel, Swinburne, 148.
• Atalanta, newspaper, 112.
• Athalie, 233, 235-36.
• Athens, 254-56.
• — Eton, 117.
• Atkins, Dr., 41.
• Aurèle, Madame, 66.
• Austria, Archduke of, assassinated, 438.
• Aventurière (L’), 230.
• Bach, “Passion Music of St. Matthew,” 103.
• Bachelors’ Club, 139.
• Baden, Grand Duchess of, 216.
• Bagshot, 76.
• Baikal, Lake, 269-70, 311.
• Baines, Dr., 427.
• Balakirev, Russian folk-songs, 408.
• Balfour, Reginald, at Angers, 198-99.
• Balkan War, 1912, 395.
• Balliol, 170-72.
• Ballooning experiences, 204-5.
• Balzac, 94, 141.
• Banck, M., 98.
• Bancrofts, the, 51, 53.
• Banville, Théodore de, 228;
• on Sarah Bernhardt, 229 note;
• Camées Parisiens, 243;
• La Femme de Claude, 306.
• Barbier de Seville, 310.
• Baretta, acting of, 93, 230.
• Bariatinsky, Princess, 247.
• Baring Brothers, the financial crisis, 1890, 113.
• — General, 62.
• — Rowland, 82.
• — the Hon. Cecil, 13, 14, 27, 46, 48, 54, 58, 65, 107.
• — the Hon. Elizabeth, 9-13, 22-25, 32, 38, 43-44;
• at Ascot, 79-80;
• marriage, 85-86;
• house of, 113.
• — the Hon. Everard, 13, 14, 32, 37, 65;
• the “Imp,” 40;
• at Eton, 46, 48-49.
• — the Hon. Hugo, boyhood, 2-3, 9, 11, 14, 16, 21, 23, 26;
• in the schoolroom, 36-41;
• yachting, 44;
• Mr. Warre and, 46;
• Membland, 59-60;
• Marlborough House parties, 80;
• Ascot school, 81;
• Eastbourne, 82;
• “Miss Hastings,” 83;
• the game of “Spankaboo,” 83-84;
• Cowes, 85;
• Paris, 93;
• Eton, 105, 107, 113, 115.
• Baring, the Hon. John (now Lord Revelstoke), 13, 14, 20, 27, 44-46, 65, 68, 102, 107, 135.
• — the Hon. Margaret (married Robert Spencer), 8-12, 21-23, 35, 43-44, 85, 107-8.
• — the Hon. Susan, 9-13, 16, 21, 23-25, 35, 44, 74, 85, 86, 91-94.
• — Windham, 82.
• Barnay, Ludwig, 136.
• Barnby, Mr. Joseph, organist, 102-3.
• Barnes Pool, 95.
• Barrack Room Ballads, Kipling, 148.
• Bartet in Le Père Prodigue, 140;
• in Bérénice, 192.
• Bastille, the, 93.
• Bath, visits to, 76, 130.
• — House, 26, 85.
• Battery Cottage, 40.
• Bauman, death, 320;
• funeral, 321-22.
• Bayreuth Festival, 133-35, 153-54, 168.
• Beardsley, Aubrey, 144, 149.
• Béarn, Madame de, 254.
• Beauchamp, editor of the Eton Review, 111.
• Beeching, Mr., 148.
• Beerbohm, Max, 147-48, 155;
• on Rugby football, 74;
• correspondence in the Saturday Review, 195.
• Beer-drinking rules in Germany, 121-125.
• Beethoven, 211.
• Beggars, Russian, 377.
• Belgrade Station, 406, 408.
• Bell, casting of a, 382-85.
• Bell, schoolfellow, 77, 79, 83.
• Belle Hélène (La), 197.
• Belle Maman, 93.
• Belle-Isle, a visit to, 216-18.
• Belloc, Hilary, at Oxford, 170-72;
• “Bad Child’s Book of Beasts,” 171;
• Verses and Sonnets, 171;
• The North Street Gazette, 390-95;
• The Four Men, 391;
• The Eye Witness, 395.
• Ben Hur, 105.
• Benckendorff, Constantine, 263.
• — Count, on Delaunay, 67;
• in Copenhagen, 208-9;
• at the Russian Legation, 212;
• personality, 213-15;
• invitations to the Hon. Maurice Baring, 218-24;
• in London, 261;
• on Russia, 268.
• Benckendorff, Pierre, 223-24, 268.
• Benelli, Signor, 140.
• Benson, Arthur, at Eton, 100, 104, 110-12, 116-17, 147, 259;
• poems, 138;
• house of, 142;
• style, 148.
• — E. F., Dodo, 138, 149.
• — Mrs., 138.
• Benzon, Otto, comedies, 210-11.
• Bérénice, Racine, 192-93.
• Berlin, 133;
• rooms in Unter den Linden, 135-37;
• Friedrichsstrasse Station, 438.
• — University, 136-37.
• Berliner Tageblatt, 276.
• Berliner Theater, the, 136.
• Bernhardt, Sarah, 187, 197;
• in Hernani, 53;
• As in a Looking-Glass, 93-94;
• in La Tosca, 107;
• and Eleonora Duse, 136;
• at Daly’s, 167;
• in L’Aiglon, 199-200, 204;
• her home in Belle-Isle, 216-17;
• personality, 217-18, 227-44;
• her interpretation of Hamlet, 239-41;
• in La Dame aux Camélias, 241;
• Angelo produced, 305;
• in La Femme de Claude, 307;
• Fédora, 309;
• her greatness, 309-10.
• Bertie, Sir Frank, 180.
• Bilky, coachman, 40.
• Bingen, 133.
• Bismarck, 127, 129;
• sayings of, 139;
• on the English, 173, 175;
• remark concerning Constantinople, 419.
• Bizet, tomb, 94.
• Black Gang, in Moscow, 320-23.
• Blackwood, Basil, 71, 171.
• Bletchington, Captain, 44-45.
• Blunt, Lady Anne, 169.
• — Sir Wilfrid, 169.
• Board of Trade, offices of the, 157.
• Bobrinsky, Count, 280.
• — Count André, 388.
• — Count Lev, 388-90.
• — Countess, 389-90.
• Boer War, feeling between Germany and England, 174-75.
• Boileau, reading of, 152.
• Bois de Boulogne, 16, 67, 92.
• Boissier, 36.
• Boito, opera, 310.
• Bolsheviks, national anthem of the, 321 note.
• Bonn, 133.
• Borthwick, Oliver, 268.
• Boris Godounov, 310.
• Bosanquet, editor of the Parachute, 111.
• Boswell, a quotation, 185.
• Bouchier, Mr., 104.
• Bouffons (Les), 233.
• Bourgeois Gentilhomme, 75.
• Bourget, parody on, 194-95.
• Bourke, Harry, 43.
• Bowden, Father Sebastian, 395-96.
• Brachet, Grammaire Historique, 114.
• Brackley, Lord, at Eton, 89.
• Braisne, 89.
• Brandes, Dr. George, 211.
• — Frau, 133.
• Braun, boy at Hildesheim, 120-21;
• explains beer-drinking, 121-23.
• Breguet watches, presents of, 55-56, 115.
• Brewster, 139, 184;
• works of, 249-51;
• L’Âme païenne, 250;
• on Verlaine, 251;
• on the production of Shakespeare, 251-52;
• the Prison, 252;
• in Rome, 259-60.
• Bridges, Robert, pamphlets of verse, 148.
• Brinkman prize, the, 91.
• British Encyclopædia, article by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 226.
• Brizzi, Signor, 52.
• Broadwood, at Ascot, 78-79;
• at Eastbourne, 82-85;
• at Eton, 87.
• — Colonel, 76.
• Brocken, climbing the, 128.
• Brohan, Madeleine, 230.
• Brompton Oratory, 395-96.
• Brontë, Charlotte, 228;
• Jane Eyre, 106.
• Brooke, Guy, 269, 271, 280, 292.
• Brothers Karamazov (The), Dostoievsky, 293.
• Broughton Castle, 204.
• Brown, Mrs., sock-shop, 95-96, 105, 117.
• Browne, Miss Pinkie, 61-62.
• Browning, Oscar, 153.
• — Robert, 151, 169.
• Brusa, 404-5.
• Bucharest, 418.
• Buckstone, art of, 51.
• Bulgarians, spirit of the, 416-17.
• Bullock, Mr., guard at Paddington, 6-7.
• Bulteel, Bessie, 48, 54, 58, 61, 66.
• — Effie (Aunt), 34, 47.
• — Lady Elizabeth, 29-30.
• — (Uncle Johnny), 34, 40, 57-58, 176.
• Burcher, Mr., librarian at Eton, 110, 116.
• Burlington House, 56.
• Burne-Jones, 56, 232, 235.
• Burschenschaft, 125-26.
• Butat, M., 27, 28.
• Byron, 50, 58, 126, 186;
• quoted, 50, 282;
• Arthur Benson and, 112;
• Professor Ihne on, 163;
• the singer of Greece, 255.
• Café de Paris, 92.
• Cairo, the Agency, 168-69.
• Califano, 95.
• Calverley, 145.
• Cambridge, 141;
• King’s College, 143-45;
• debating societies, 143;
• Society of the Apostles, 145-46;
• work done by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 151-53.
• Cambridge A B C, newspaper, 144.
• Cambridge University Press, pamphlet of poems by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 199.
• Camées Parisiens, Banville, 243.
• Cameron, Miss Violet, 28.
• Campbell, Herbert, 24, 83.
• — Mrs. Patrick, 56, 149;
• in The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith, 157-58;
• in Magda, 167;
• in Pelléas, 305.
• — minor, Ascot, 79.
• — Niall, 71.
• Captain Swift, at the Haymarket, 107.
• Card games, German, 124.
• Carducci, 140.
• Carlyle, Arthur Benson and, 112.
• Carmen, 187.
• Carnac, temple of, 169.
• Carr, editor of the Parachute, 111.
• Carr-Bosanquet, parody on Kipling, 144;
• humour of, 144-45;
• rooms of, 153.
• Carregi, 167.
• Carroll, Lewis, 180.
• Caruso, 52.
• Castellane, Count Boni de, 206.
• Castiglione, Madame de, 196.
• Catherine ii., 339, 355.
• Cavalleria Rusticana, 133.
• Cecil, Lord Sackville, 166-67.
• Cemented Bricks Society, 151.
• “Cercle de l’Union,” 184, 196, 206.
• Cercle des Débats (Le), 113.
• Certosa, the, 159.
• Cetonia, schooner, 45.
• Chaika, by Tchekov, 323.
• Chaliapine, 263, 309-10, 376-77.
• Chantilly, 205.
• Charles, Prince and Princess, of Denmark, 225.
• Châtelet, the, Paris, 92.
• Chérie, French governess, 9-138 passim.
• Chernaya, village of, 325-26.
• Cherry Orchard, Tchekov, 266, 268.
• Chesterton, Cecil, The New Witness, 395.
• — Gilbert, 395.
• Chevrillon, André, 195.
• Childe Harold, 112.
• Children, notes on, 373-74.
• Children of the Sun, Gorky, 323.
• Chinese Catholic priests, 283.
• Chit-Chat Debating Society, 144.
• Cholera in San Stefano, 419-29.
• Chough’s Nest, Lynton, 197-98.
• Christians in Uskub, massacre prevented, 414-16.
• Christie, Mrs., education of the children, 11-158.
• Christmas in Germany, 155-56.
• Church, Stories from Homer, 46.
• Churchill, Winston, at Ascot, 71.
• Civil Service Commission, 177.
• Clairin, 217.
• Clapshaw, Mr., 89.
• Clarendon, Lady, 55.
• Clarke, at Eton, 103.
• — Rev. Dawson, 154.
• Clarkson, Mr., 153.
• Clemenceau, M., 195.
• Cleopatra, the M.S., 169.
• Clifford, Lady de, 62.
• Clothes, nationality and, 373.
• Clubs in Heidelberg, 125.
• Cluny Musée, 92.
• Coblenz, 133.
• Cocart et Bicoquet, 92.
• Coleridge, 240;
• “Ancient Mariner” quoted, 270.
• Coliseum, Rome, 246.
• Collins, an essay on, by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 142.
• Cologne, 133.
• Colonial Office, 177.
• Comédie française, 230, 265.
• Compiègne, 198.
• Congreve, 148.
• “Conscripts’ Farewell (The),” 61.
• Constantinople, rebellion 1909, 397-98;
• Russian pilgrims in, 400-1;
• the new Sultan, 401-4;
• Adrianople Gate, 402;
• November impressions, 418-20;
• cholera at San Stefano, 419-429.
• Contrexéville, 56, 65-67, 81, 153.
• Coombe Cottage, near Malden, 3-7, 10, 12, 14, 17.
• Copeman, Miss, at Eton, 87, 99-100, 112.
• Copenhagen, British Legation, 207-26;
• Tivoli music-hall, 209;
• the Bred Gade, 212.
• Coppée, François, Le Passant, 228.
• Coquelin in L’Étourdi, 107;
• in L’Abbé Constantin, 305;
• art of, 51, 199, 230, 243.
• Corfu, 256.
• Corinth, 254.
• Cornish, Gerald, 116.
• — Hubert, at Heidelberg, 118, 124-26, 128, 133;
• in Naples, 141;
• Cambridge, 143, 146;
• journalism, 144;
• criticism of the new poets, 150;
• Devonshire, 198.
• — Mr., at Eton, 88, 98, 117, 141-42, 180.
• — Mrs., 114.
• Cosham, 114.
• Cossacks, fire on crowd at Bauman’s funeral, 322;
• attitude during the Revolution, 353;
• on the Volga steamers, 375.
• Country Girl in St. Petersburg, 324.
• Covent Garden Opera House, Aïda, 53.
• Coventry, Willie, 110, 112, 115-16.
• Cowes Regatta, 44, 85.
• Cowley, 155.
• Cowper, “Hark my Soul,” 50.
• — Lord, 176.
• Crackenthorpe, 147.
• Crawford, Marion, Mr. Isaacs, 50;
• a favourite author, 105-6.
• Crawshay, Mrs., 245.
• Creçy, forest of, 205.
• Cremer’s, Bond Street, 5;
• Regent Street, 7.
• Crime and Punishment, Dostoievsky, 293.
• Croizette, 230.
• Cromer, Lord, 82, 396;
• Modern Egypt, 168-69;
• on Lord Salisbury’s Foreign policy, 178.
• Croome Court, 112.
• Crosbie, Mr., 40, 135.
• Crowds, Russian, 383-85.
• Cruises in 1908, 395.
• Crum, at Eton, 116.
• Cuckoo Weir, 95.
• Cunliffe, at Eton, 108.
• Cuppy, Mr. Hazlitt Alva, 124, 127.
• Curçin, Dr. Milan, 410-11, 412, 417.
• Currie, Lady, 245-47, 261-62.
• — Lord, in Rome, 245-47, 261-62.
• Cust, Harry, 62, 149.
• Cuyp, 16.
• Cyrano de Bergerac, 200-3, 243.
• Daily Mail, 275.
• Daily News, 148.
• Daily Telegraph, 276.
• Daly’s Theatre, Sarah Bernhardt at, 167.
• Damala, M., 53.
• Dame aux Camélias, Sarah Bernhardt in, 136, 231, 241;
• Duse in, 235, 309.
• Damozel Blanche, by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 113.
• Dancing lessons, 25-26.
• Dante, quoted, 140, 404.
• Darmesteter, Madame, 195.
• Dart, the, 374.
• Dartmoor, 31, 57.
• Datchet, regatta, 142.
• Daudet, Alphonse, 105.
• Davantientung, life in, 283-86.
• David Grieve, Mrs. H. Ward, 148.
• Davidson, John, 147-48, 151.
• Day of My Life at Eton (A), 144.
• Deacon, Mr., 6, 27, 39, 63.
• Debating Societies, Eton, 113;
• Cambridge, 143-44.
• Decemviri Debating Society, 143-44, 153.
• Delaunay, art of, 51, 67, 230.
• Delcassé, M., 184.
• Delos, 256.
• Delphi, rocks of, 254.
• Denmark, King of, 209-10;
• and King Edward VII., 224-25.
• Der Wald, Ethel Smyth, 215.
• Derby, the, 167.
• Desclée, 52.
• Devonshire, visits to, 5, 6;
• scenery compared with South Russia, 386.
• Devonshire House, fancy dress ball, 1897, 176.
• Dickens, Charles, reading of, 53;
• humour of, 298.
• Die Alte Tante, 119.
• Die Ehre, Sudermann, 136.
• Dillon, Dr., 324.
• Dimitri, servant, 282.
• Dimitriev-Mamonov, Alexander, 314.
• Dimmock, 9-135 passim.
• Diplomatic Service, examinations for the, 153-56.
• Dittel, Herr, 169.
• Dodo, Benson, 138, 149.
• Doll’s House, Ibsen, 136;
• in Copenhagen, 210-11;
• Duse in, 309.
• Don Giovanni, 186, 211.
• Donizetti, 52.
• Donnay, Maurice, Amants, 166.
• Donne, lines quoted, 226.
• Dostoievsky, novels of, 261, 293;
• Nazarenko’s opinion of, 343.
• Dowson, Ernest, 149;
• poem by, 150.
• Doyle, Conan, 381.
• Drachman, Holger, Gurre, 210, 211.
• Drake, Ingalton, 95.
• Dresden, 118, 133;
• picture gallery, 135.
• Drew, Mr., 97.
• Dreyfus campaign, 184-85, 195-97, 209.
• Drury Lane Pantomimes, Mother Goose, 8, 83, 245;
• Duse at, 167.
• Du Lau, M., 192, 206-7.
• Du Maurier, 55;
• cited, 321.
• Duckworth, at Ascot, 73.
• Dudley, Georgiana, Lady, 196.
• Duels in Heidelberg, 127-28.
• Dufferin, Lord, in Paris, 166.
• Duma, the Russian, opening of first, 332, 339-41;
• dissolution, 341-42;
• discussions about the, 353-54;
• the third, 390.
• Dumas fils, Alexandre, 141, 230;
• Comme Elles sont Toutes, 85-86;
• Dame aux Camélias, 136, 231, 309;
• La Femme de Claude, 235, 305-8;
• La Visite de Noces, 305, 308.
• Dunglass, at Eton, 89, 102, 105-6, 115-16.
• Durnford, Mr. Walter, 46, 63, 116.
• Duse, Eleonora, art of, 52-53, 136, 167, 309-10;
• in La Dame aux Camélias, 184;
• as Magda, 210, 234-35;
• in Fédora, 231, 309;
• at the Waldorf Theatre, 305;
• in La Femme de Claude, 306-8;
• in The Second Mrs. Tanqueray, 309;
• in La Gioconda, 309.
• Dutch Reformed Church, Constantinople, 422.
• Dyce, his Shakespeare, 185.
• E. at Timmes, 161-64.
• Eagle, shop in Edgware Road, 28.
• Earthquake at Assisi, 158-59.
• “East and West,” Hilary Belloc, 391-92.
• Easter in Russia, 155;
• Moscow festivities, 334-39.
• Ebb Tide, Stevenson, 148.
• Edgcumbe, Colonel, 15, 60-61.
• Edgcumbe, Lady Ernestine, 61.
• — Lord Mount, 60-63.
• Edinburgh, Duchess of, 348.
• Édouard, Les Enfants d’Édouard, 21.
• Edward VII., in Denmark, 224-25.
• Edwin and Angelina, Violet Fane, 245.
• Egerton, Francis, 98.
• Egypt, 168.
• Egyptian Red Crescent, 427-28.
• Eiffel Tower, 93.
• Ekaterinoslav Regiment, the, 335.
• Eldorado Paris Music Hall, 66.
• Elgin, Lord, 255.
• Eliot, George, 106, 112.
• Elliot, Charles, 191.
• Ellis, Colonel, 60.
• — Edwin, 149.
• — Gerald, 60.
• — Mr., carpenter, 42, 59.
• Elsinore, 224-25.
• En Paix, 197.
• Encyclopædia Britannica, articles by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 261.
• English Lyrics, Le Gallienne, 149.
• Enver Pasha, 397.
• Epic of Hades, Lewis Morris, 98.
• Esclangon, M., 154-55.
• Eton, Warre’s House, 13, 14;
• 4th of June, 65, 106-7;
• Lower Chapel, 89;
• first summer half, 94-95;
• sock-shops, 95-96;
• duty of the prepostor, 96, 100;
• masters, 96-100;
• religious instruction, 100-1;
• music lessons, 101-3;
• ragging of masters, 103-4;
• breakfasts with the Head Master, 107;
• New Schools opened by Queen Victoria, 108;
• Mr. Gladstone’s speech on classical education, 108-9;
• system of punishments, 109-10;
• the School library, 110, 116;
• the boats, 112-13;
• Debating Societies, 113-14;
• Tercentenary, 1891, 114;
• the Prince Consort prize (1891) won by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 114-16;
• House matches, 115;
• the playing fields, 117;
• Mr. Cornish Vice-Provost, 141-42;
• newspapers and books about, 144;
• compared with Cambridge, 170;
• Cloisters, 180.
• Eton and Harrow match, 64-65, 115.
• Eton Boating Song, 103.
• Eton Chronicle, 144.
• Eton Review, the, 111.
• Eton Volunteers, 108.
• Étourdi (L’), Coquelin, 107.
• Evans’ House, Eton, 88.
• Executions, Turkish, 398-99.
• Exhibition, the Paris, 1900, 93.
• Eye Witness (The), editors, 395.
• Eyoub, Mosque of, 402, 403.
• Faguet, M. Émile, 242;
• Propos de Théâtre, 243.
• Fair at Nijni-Novgorod, 371-73.
• Falka, 28.
• Fanshawe, Miss, 50.
• Fantasio, Ethel Smyth, 216.
• Fargeuil, 53.
• Farms in South Russia, 387.
• Fashoda crisis, 178.
• Faure, President, death of, 187.
• Faust, Goethe, 26, 136, 164;
• Gounod, 136.
• Favart, Madame, 230.
• Febvre, 230.
• Fechter, 51.
• Fédora, Sardou, 231, 305, 309.
• Femme de Claude (La), Duse in, 305-9.
• Feodor, peasant, 348-49.
• Feuillet, Octave, 106.
• Fidelio, 324.
• Field, Michael, 151.
• Fielding, 111.
• Figaro, the, 143.
• Fires, Russian village, 382.
• First Siberian Corps, 298.
• Fish, Hamilton, 71.
• Fisher, Commander, 395.
• Fitzgerald, Arthur Benson and, 112.
• Fletcher, 171.
• Flete, 33-34.
• Florence, 140-41, 158;
• June nights, 4;
• the earthquake, 158-60;
• Giotto’s Tower, 167.
• Foire de Jambon, La, Paris, 92.
• Foix, Gaston de, statue at Milan, 302.
• Folkestone, Lady, 54.
• Fontaine, La, Fables, 20, 352.
• Fontainebleau, 205;
• forest of, 198.
• Fontanka, the, Countess Shuvaloff’s house, 263.
• Food of the Gods, Wells, 285.
• Ford, Major, 420-29.
• Foreign Office, African Department, 177-80;
• the Commercial Department, 260-61.
• Forster, Birket, 16.
• Fort des Poulains, house of Sarah Bernhardt, 216-17.
• Fortune-telling, 352.
• Forum, the, 259.
• Four Men (The), Belloc, 391.
• Foyod, 92.
• France, Anatole, works, 141;
• criticism by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 156-57;
• parody on, 194-95, 213;
• his receptions, 184-85, 195-96;
• Count Pasolini and, 249.
• Franconia, the, 125.
• Franco-Prussian War, 51, 129.
• Frank, footman, 27.
• Frank Fairleigh, 68.
• Frankfort, 133.
• Frascati, 259.
• Fräulein Schmidt und Mr. Anstruther, 370.
• Frederick, Empress, 88, 129.
• — the Great, rooms at Potsdam, 129.
• Frew, Mr., 422-29.
• Fullerton, Lady Georgiana, Too Strange not to be True, 48.
• Fun-chu-Ling, village, 299.
• Gaedke, Colonel, 276-77, 281.
• Galata Bridge, executions, 398-400.
• Gale, Norman, 153;
• Country Lyrics, 148.
• Galgenberg, the, 119.
• Gallienne, Richard le, 147;
• English Lyrics, 149;
• “What of the Darkness,” 150;
• friendship of, 151.
• Galliffet, General, 184, 196-97, 206-7.
• — Madame de, 193.
• Gamberaia, villa, 167.
• Garrick, 227.
• — Chambers, London, 154, 156.
• — Club, 154.
• — Theatre, 157, 310.
• Geissler, Dr., 422.
• Gémier, actor, 197.
• Genesis, Andrew Lang, 148.
• “Georgian poets,” 412;
• Books of Georgian Poetry, 147.
• Géradmer, 67.
• Géricault, tomb, 94.
• German Crown Prince, in Jubilee procession, 85.
• — Emperor, 44;
• visit to Eton, 108;
• at Queen Victoria’s funeral, 216.
• Germany, antipathy towards England, 129;
• remarks on, 172-73.
• Ghosts, Ibsen, 323.
• Gievko, 386-88.
• Gilbert and Sullivan operas, 24, 25.
• “Gilles,” 67.
• Gioconda, D’Annunzio, 305;
• Duse in, 309.
• Giorgione, 185.
• Giroux, 35.
• Gladstone, Hon. W. E., Lady Dorothy Nevill on, 15;
• reputation at Ascot, 77-78;
• lecture at Eton, 108-9.
• Glenesk, Lord, 268.
• Gluck, 185, 210;
• Orpheo, 211.
• Glyn, Admiral, 47.
• Godziadan, 312.
• Goethe, poetry of, 51, 126;
• Faust, 136, 164, 311.
• Gogol, novels, 261, 364;
• humour of, 298;
• on Russia, 430, 431.
• Golden Horn, view, 397.
• Goldoni, La Locandiera, 305.
• Goomes, Captain, 44.
• Gorky, The Children of the Sun, 323-24.
• Goschen, Sir E., 208, 209;
• work of the Legation, 214-15, 225.
• Gosse, Mr. Edmund, 142, 147-48;
• verses published 1894, 148;
• friendship, 151;
• literary discussions, 155-57, 185;
• in Copenhagen, 209;
• Hypolympia, 209.
• Got, art of, 51, 230.
• Gotha, school at, 130-31.
• Gounod, Faust, 136.
• Grace, 19, 37.
• Graham, 106.
• Grain, Corney, 17.
• Grand d’Hauteville, at Eton, 114.
• Granier, Jeanne, in Amants, 166.
• Granville, Lady, 26.
• — Lord, 62.
• Grassina, village, 159.
• Gray’s Elegy, 18.
• Great Western Railway, Swindon works, 76.
• Greece, Sarah Bernhardt on, 217;
• visits to, 254.
• — King of, 225.
• Greek Church, Paris, 187.
• — School, San Stefano, cholera hospital, 421-29.
• — traders in Kharbin, 275.
• Green, Mr. Nathaniel, 22.
• — C. A., 149.
• Greffuhle, Madame, 199.
• Grévin, Musée, 92.
• Grey, Lady de, 60.
• Grey, Lady Georgiana, 58, 59.
• Grisi, 52.
• Grosvenor House parties, 54.
• Guatemala, 180.
• Guidarelli, Guidarello, statue at Ravenna, 302.
• Guildhall concerts, 27.
• Guitry in Amants, 166.
• Gunchuling, 312.
• Gunter, A. C., That Frenchman, 106.
• Gurko, Colonel, 283.
• Gurre, Holger Drachman, 210-11.
• Gymnase, Paris, 93, 265.
• Gymnasium, Hildesheim, 120-21.
• H. B., 195.
• Haggard, Rider, 105, 107, 155.
• Haichen Station, 281-82.
• Hale, Mr. Badger, 97.
• Halévy, 199;
• L’Abbé Constantin, 106.
• Half-hours in the Far South, 75.
• Halifax, Lord, 88.
• Hallé, Sir Charles, 62.
• Hamilton, Leslie, 116.
• — war correspondent, 269.
• Hamlet, review in North Street Gazette, 392-93;
• Sarah Bernhardt’s, 231, 233, 239-41.
• Hammonet, M., 114.
• Hampton Court residences, 58.
• Hands, Charles, 275-76.
• Hanover, 118.
• Harben, at Eton, 98.
• Harbin, 275, 293.
• Harbord family, 59.
• Hardinge, Arthur, 191.
• Hardy, Thomas, 126;
• works, 146;
• Tess of the D’Urbervilles, 148.
• Hare, Sir John, art of, 51, 157;
• in The Colonel, 53;
• in A Pair of Spectacles, 310.
• Harland, Henry, 155.
• — The Yellow Book, 157.
• Harriet, housemaid, 27.
• Harris (Uncle Willie), 34.
• Harz Mountains, 128, 175.
• Hasse, Hildesheim, 121, 129.
• Hatchard’s, 20.
• Hatfield, garden-parties, 178.
• Hauptmann, Lonely Lives, 266.
• Hawthorne, Julian, Mrs. Gainsborough’s Diamonds, 106.
• Haymaking near Moscow, 349-51.
• Haymarket Theatre, 53;
• Captain Swift, 107.
• Hearts of Men (The), 260.
• Hedda Gabler, Ibsen, 210-11.
• Heidelberg, 4, 133, 135, 163-64;
• view of the Castle, 124;
• the University, 124-26.
• Heine, Heinrich, 119, 156, 172, 228.
• Hele, M., 86.
• Heligoland, cession, 173.
• Hems, Mr. Harry, 40.
• Hengler’s Circus, 17.
• Henley, 148.
• — Antony, at Oxford, 170-72.
• Hennings, Fru, in the Doll’s House, 210-11.
• Henry, Mlle Ida, 12-13.
• Herbert, Auberon, at Oxford, 170, 176;
• experiences, 284-85.
• — Aubrey, 402.
• — First Secretary, Copenhagen, 215.
• — Michael, 212;
• in Paris, 181, 183;
• personality, 190-92.
• Heredia, poems, 255.
• Hermann and Dorothea, 126.
• Hernani, 35, 229.
• Hervieu, Paul, 199.
• Herz, at Eton, 103.
• Hetherington, Grace, nursery maid, 2, 8.
• Heygate, Mr., 87, 96.
• Heywood-Lonsdale, 88.
• Hildesheim, life at, 118-31, 135, 153-161, 172.
• Hildesheim, pamphlet by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 195.
• Hillier, Arthur Cecil, 149.
• Hilly, nurse, 2, 3, 5, 8, 9, 37, 39, 41.
• Hliebnikov, officer, 289, 290-91, 300.
• Hobbes, John Oliver, 147, 149.
• Hofteater Theatre, Karlsruhe, 216.
• Holberg, comedies, 210.
• Holywell, Oxford, 170.
• Hook, poem by, 50.
• Hope, schoolfellow, 70.
• Horace, Odes, 100, 259.
• Houghton, Lord, 110.
• Hound of Heaven, Thompson, 150.
• House Debating Society, Eton, 113.
• Houses in South Russia, 386-87.
• Houssaye, Henry, 199.
• Hua, M., 97, 114;
• Eton, 87;
• Le Cercle des Débats, 113.
• Hugo, Victor, 230, 233, 242-43;
• Angelo, 21, 305;
• his tomb, 92;
• Ruy Bias, 114;
• “La Chanson d’Eviradnus,” 237-39.
• Humanists’ Library, 261.
• Hunter, Mrs. Charles, 139.
• Huret, Jules, or Sarah Bernhardt, 217-218.
• Hurstmonceux, 83.
• Ibsen, The Doll’s House, 136-37, 210, 309;
• Hedda Gabler, 210;
• Ghosts, 323.
• Ida, Mlle, 15, 21-22, 26, 66.
• Idiot (The), Dostoievsky, 293.
• Ihne, Professor, at Hildesheim, 124-26, 133, 135, 163-64, 173.
• Illustrated London News, 148.
• Impey, Mr., 107.
• Indomitable, the, 395.
• Innerste River, the, 129.
• International Law, examination in, 207.
• Invalides, the, 92.
• Iphegenie auf Tauris, 126.
• Iphigénie, Racine, 228.
• Irkutsk, the journey to, 269-72, 314.
• Irving, Sir Henry, art of, 24, 51-52;
• as Becket, 310.
• Italian language learned at Florence, 140.
• — Opera, appreciation of, 52.
• Italy, childish impressions, 38-39.
• Ito, Marquis, 273.
• Ivan the Little Fool, Russian story, 272-73.
• Ivan the Terrible, 310.
• Ivan Veliki, Cathedral of, 335.
• Ivanov, Tchekov, 265.
• Ivy Bridge, 31, 41.
• Jagow, Herr, 248.
• James, Henry, 147-49;
• The Tragic Muse, 228.
• Jane Eyre, 105.
• Janiculum, the, 259.
• Janotha, Mlle, 24.
• Japan, Russian policy, 261-62;
• the attack on Port Arthur, 263.
• Jardin d’Acclimatation, 92.
• Jaucourt, Françoise de, 206.
• — Madame de, 205-6.
• — Monsieur de, 21, 82-83, 194, 205-6.
• — Pierre de, 82, 84.
• Jen-tsen-Tung, 312-14.
• Jerome, J. K., 381;
• Paul Clever, 324.
• Jessen, M. de, 275, 277.
• Jews, discussions concerning, 354-55;
• Count Witte and the, 367-68;
• pogroms, 389-90.
• Joachim, 55.
• John, Father, of Kronstadt, 325.
• John Inglesant, 50.
• Johnson, Dr. 127, 213;
• Lives of the Poets, 185-86;
• opinions of, 252-53.
• — Lionel, 149-50.
• Johnstone, Sir Alan, 209, 215.
• Joie fait peur (La), 189.
• Journal, the, Ludovic Naudeau, correspondent, 276.
• Jowett, quoted, 364.
• Joynes, Jimmy, 89.
• Jubilee year festivities, 85.
• Jump, Mr., 22.
• Jusserand, M., 208.
• Justinian, Palace of, 398.
• Kadets, the, 332;
• opening of the Duma, 340-41;
• Count Witte and the, 367-68.
• Kalnikoff, General M., 414-15.
• Kama River, the, 374.
• Karlovna, Marie, 347-48.
• Karlsruhe, 216.
• Kasten’s Hotel, Hanover, 118.
• Kazan, 374-75.
• Keate’s’ Lane Papers, 111.
• Keats, 4, 5, 110, 140, 235, 246.
• Keeley, Mrs., 51.
• Kendal, Mr. and Mrs., 28.
• — Mrs., art of, 51, 310-11;
• in The Ironmaster, 53;
• in The Likeness of the Night, 310.
• Kenmare river, 85.
• Kerensky, 341.
• Kershaw at Balliol, 176.
• Kharbin, 274-75, 311, 314.
• Kharkov, 386.
• Kholodovsky, General, 275.
• Khovantincha, 310.
• Kiev, 388.
• Kilkov, Prince, 315.
• Killarney, 85.
• King Lear, 163.
• King Solomon’s Mines, 107.
• Kingsley, Charles, Westward Ho!, 106.
• Kipling, 152;
• popularity of, 126, 200;
• parody on, 144;
• publications 1891-92, 148;
• The Gate of the Hundred Sorrows, 309.
• Kirsanov, 222, 314.
• Kislitsky, Lieutenant, 283, 287-91, 295-96, 299, 302, 313.
• Knagenhjelm, M. de, 209.
• Kneipe, entertainment, 125-26, 129, 133, 161.
• Kologrivo, village, 345.
• Kongelige Theatre, Copenhagen, 210-211.
• Kotz, Marie Karlovna von, 263-64, 325, 328.
• Kousnetsk, 315.
• Kovolievsky, Professor, 340, 342.
• Kraus, Mlle, 92.
• Kremlin, Moscow, 334-36;
• Nijni-Novgorod, 371;
• Kazan, 374.
• Kronstadt, disorders at, 359-60.
• Krumbacher, Professor, 254, 256.
• Kuan-chen-tse, 293.
• Kuhn, Mr. Otto, 124.
• Kumanovo, battle of, 407, 412-16.
• Kuprulu, 414.
• Kuroki, his turning move, 291.
• Kuropatkin, General, 274, 280, 287, 312.
• Kursk, 352, 385.
• Kutchuk, Tchekmedche, 419.
• Labiche, La Grammaire, 43.
• Labour meeting at Terrioki, 345-47.
• Lady Windermere’s Fan, Wilde, 148.
• Lamb, Charles, 145.
• Lambton, Claud, 48.
• Lamsdorff, Count, 273.
• Lane, Mr. John, 151.
• Lang, Andrew, writings, 148;
• and the Dreyfusards, 197.
• Langtry, Mrs., 25.
• Lansdowne, Lady, 62.
• — Lord, 62.
• Last Abbot of Glastonbury (The), 71.
• Latude, escape, 93.
• Lays of Ancient Rome, 158, 167.
• Leavenworth Case (The), 74.
• Lee, Vernon, 141, 147, 256, 259, 370;
• Belcaro, 20;
• a saying of, 142;
• and the earthquake, 160;
• home of, 167;
• on Wagner, 186-87.
• Lee-Hamilton, Eugene, 167.
• Legouvé, 305.
• Leigh, R. Austen, 91, 144.
• Leighton, Sir Frederick, 55.
• Leighton’s in Windsor, 95.
• Leipzig, 133; an incident at, 154.
• Lemaître, Jules, 199;
• on Duse’s Magda, 210;
• on Sarah Bernhardt, 227, 231, 233-34;
• Les Rois, 233;
• on Duse in La Dame aux Camélias, 235;
• on Rostand, 242.
• Lemerre, publisher, 194-95.
• Léna, 232.
• Lenin, 341.
• Leno, Dan, 245.
• Lenôtre, 168.
• Leo XIII., Pope, 253.
• Leopardi, 140.
• Lermontov, 365;
• “The Demon,” 295.
• Lewes, Life of Goethe, 126.
• Liao-he, the, 374.
• Liaoyang, 282, 286;
• the Hôtel International, 280.
• — battle of, 287-92.
• Liberty, 7.
• Lido, the, 141.
• Lieskov, 294.
• Life’s Handicap, Kipling, 148.
• Likeness of the Night (The), 310.
• Limfa, 256.
• Linevitch, General, 311.
• Livre de Mon Ami, France, 156-57.
• “Lira,” musical instrument, 387-88.
• Lisle, Lecomte de, 203.
• Lister, Reginald, reminiscences, 182-83, 194;
• personality, 188-90.
• Liszt, the Erlkönig, 211.
• Little Russians, 371-72, 386 et seq.
• Littré, 117.
• Locandiera (La), Goldoni, 308.
• Lohengrin, 153.
• Lokal Anzeiger, 276.
• London Library, 11.
• Lonely Tree Hill, 298-99, 302.
• Longman’s Magazine, 148.
• Lord of the Isles, 91.
• Lords, the Eton Eleven at, 115-16.
• Lorelei, rocks of the, 133.
• Lorenzaccio, 231, 233;
• Sarah Bernhardt in, 233-34.
• Loti, Pierre, 137;
• parody on, 194-95;
• attack on the Serbiana, 411.
• Louvre, 92;
• Mona Lisa, 67;
• Galérie d’Apollon, 67.
• Low Mass in Notre Dame, 199.
• Lowther, Lady, 404.
• Lucas Stanley, music shop of, 12.
• Ludwig, Herr, 13.
• Luxmoore, Mr., at Eton, 116-17.
• Luxor, 169.
• Lyall, Edna, 105.
• Lyceum Theatre, La Tosca, 107-8.
• Lycidas, 161.
• Lynton, 197-98.
• Lyttelton, Edward, at Eton, 104.
• Lytton, Bulwer, Harold, 75;
• Last Days of Pompeii, 106.
• M’Cullagh, 292.
• Macmillan’s Magazine, essay sent to, 142.
• Macready, 51.
• Madeleine, the, 187.
• Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle, 229.
• Maeterlinck, 232.
• Magasin du Louvre, 67.
• Magda, Mrs. Patrick Campbell in, 167;
• Sarah Bernhardt and Duse compared in, 233-35, 242, 309.
• Magpie Debating Society, 143.
• Maisy, coachman, 26.
• Maître Guérin, 93.
• Malcolm, at Eton, 90.
• Malinovsky, 283, 287.
• Mallet, Sir Edward, in Berlin, 136;
• his “Villa White,” 166-67.
• Malten, 134.
• Mamonov, 316, 329-30.
• Manchuria, 311, 363.
• — Station, 274.
• Manège, the, Moscow, Easter festivities, 335-36.
• Mannheim, 133.
• Mantle, maid, 18.
• Many Inventions, Kipling, 148.
• Marcello, 185.
• Marie Feodorovna, Empress, 348.
• Marindin, 105.
• Mario, 52.
• Maritch, Alexander, 412-413.
• Marlborough House parties, 24-25, 80-81.
• Marmora, Sea of, 419.
• “Marseillaise,” the, in Moscow, 320.
• Maskelyne and Cook, 17.
• Mason, Mrs., 25.
• Materna, 134.
• Maubant, 230.
• Maupassant, Guy de, 141, 155, 343;
• Boule de Suif, 317.
• Maxse, Admiral, 195.
• Mayfly, the, 111.
• Medd, Cubby, 170.
• Meistersinger, 133-34, 186.
• Membland, life at, 6, 8, 14, 31-42, 58-62, 75, 135, 137;
• lines on Christmas at, by Godfrey Webb, 42-43;
• “my path,” 55-56;
• visitors to, 62;
• the organ, 86;
• visit of Willie Coventry, 112;
• Christmas 1890, 113;
• good-bye to, 177.
• Memnon, temple, 169.
• Men I Have Met, Jessen, 276.
• Mendès, Catulle, La Vierge d’Avilon, 217.
• Mensur, the, Heidelberg, 127-28.
• Meredith, 126, 148.
• Merimée, 141.
• Merrymount Press, Boston, 261.
• Metternich, 202, 204.
• Mewstone, the, 40.
• Michel Strogoff, 92.
• Miskchenko, General, 292.
• Middlemarch, 267.
• Mikado, at Frankfort, 133;
• in Moscow, 265.
• Mildmay, boys at Eton, 88.
• Mildmay, Mr. H. B., 1.
• — Mrs. Bingham (Aunt Georgie), 33-34, 59-60.
• Milioukov, deputy, 340.
• Millard, 276.
• Milton, 162, 163;
• Lycidas, 112;
• Paradise Lost, 118, 127.
• — at Eton, 87, 89.
• Mint, a visit to the, 76.
• Mirski, Prince, 386-87.
• Mitre, a dinner at the, 176.
• Modern Egypt, Lord Cromer, 168-69.
• Moe-tung, village, 290.
• Molière, 210, 230;
• L’Avare, 114.
• Mona Lisa, the, 67.
• Monde ou l’on s’ennuie (Le), 92.
• Mongolia, borders of, 313;
• singing in, 351.
• Monro, Harold, stories of, 332-33.
• Monson, Sir Edmund, in Paris, 181-84;
• personality, 190.
• Montagu House, 176.
• Monte Carlo, 166-67.
• Monte Cristo, 96, 105.
• Montesquieu, Robert de, 199;
• on L’Aiglon, 203-4.
• Montgomery, Mr. Alfred, 15.
• Montmartre, 197.
• Moonstone (The), 74.
• Moore, George, 147, 149, 155.
• Moreau, 232.
• Moritzberg, the, 119.
• Morley, John, Compromise, 381.
• Morning Post, the Hon. Maurice Baring correspondent in Manchuria, 268-304;
• Whigham correspondence, 275;
• Mr. Baring’s dramatic criticisms, 305;
• Mr. Baring correspondent in Moscow, 332;
• in St. Petersburg, 356, 381;
• and in Turkey, 395.
• Morris, Lewis, Epic of Hades, 98.
• Morsh, Mr., Eton, 102.
• Moscow, the Kremlin, 224, 334;
• Testoff’s restaurant, 224;
• life in, 263-64;
• the Art Theatre, 265-66, 323-24;
• train journey from Pensa, 318-19;
• the Hôtel Dresden, 319-20, 329;
• the Emperor’s manifesto read, 319-20;
• the Métropole Restaurant, 320, 323;
• Bauman’s funeral, 321-22;
• the University, 322;
• the Riding School, 322;
• the Black Gang, 322-23;
• events of December 1905, 324, 328-29;
• Nikolayev Railway Station, 329, 331;
• Riask Station, 331;
• rooms of the Hon. M. Baring, 332;
• Easter festivities, 334-39;
• markets, 338-39;
• the journey to, 363-64.
• Moscow, River, 336, 350.
• Mothecombe Bay, 59.
• “Mothecombe” House, 59-60.
• Mottl, conductor, 134, 153, 168, 216.
• Mounts Bay, 85.
• Mozart, 52, 186, 210.
• Mozley, Mr., Eton, 103.
• Mukden, 292, 304, 362, 410;
• Chinese of, 275-76;
• life in, 277-80.
• Mukden Nichevo, the, 279.
• Munkebjerg, 209.
• Musset, Alfred de, 184;
• tomb of, 94;
• On ne badine pas avec l’Amour, 67;
• Fantasio, 216;
• Lorenzaccio, 233.
• Nagasaki, 273.
• Nan-chin-tsa village, 298.
• Naples, 141, 254.
• Napoleon II., 202-3.
• National Observer, Henley’s verse, 148.
• National Review, articles by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 261.
• Naudeau, Ludovic, 276.
• Nazarenko, deputy, 342-43.
• Nebogatov, Admiral, 349.
• Neckar, the, 374;
• view of the hills, 124.
• Neckarsteinar, 120.
• Nemi, lake of, 259.
• Nencioni, Professor, praise of the Hon. Maurice Baring, 160.
• Neruda, Madame, 24, 28, 42, 43, 54, 55, 62.
• Nevill, Lady Dorothy, 15.
• New Forest, 79.
• New Statesman 1921, 147.
• New Witness (The), editors, 395.
• New York World, 276.
• Newton Ferrers, 39.
• Newton village, 6.
• Newton Wood, 43.
• Nicholls, Harry, 24, 83.
• Nick, Herr, 119, 131.
• Nietzsche, 187.
• Nijni-Novgorod, 369;
• the fair at, 371-73.
• Nile, the, 374;
• a journey up, 169.
• Nilsson, 52.
• Nish, 408-10;
• military hospital at, 416-17.
• Norman Tower, Windsor, 110, 114, 117, 124.
• Normandy Hôtel, 91.
• North Street Gazette (The), 390-95.
• Northcourt Nonsense, by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 142.
• Noss Mayo, 6;
• building of the church, 34, 39-40.
• Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith, 157-58, 310.
• Notre Dame des Victoires, 92, 199.
• Nozze di Figaro, 211.
• Nuremberg, 133.
• Ober-Förster, Frau, 131.
• Odéon Theatre, the, 228.
• Odette, Sardou, 305;
• Duse in, 309.
• Odyssey, Virgil, 100.
• Ohnet, Georges, La Grande Marnière, 92;
• style, 151.
• Ole, Dane, at the Legation, 209, 214.
• Olympia, 254.
• Olympus, Mount, 404.
• “One Oak,” house of Miss Ethel Smyth, 140.
• “Onkel Adolph,” 119, 129, 131, 135, 216.
• Opéra Bouffe, 324.
• — Comique, 93.
• Oppidans, the, 65.
• Organ-building at Charles Street and Membland, 86.
• Osborne, the, 224, 225.
• Othello, 163;
• Dr. Timme on, 127.
• Otrante, Charlie d’, 216.
• Otway, Mrs., Ascot, 69.
• Ourousoff, Princess, 248.
• Ours, at the Haymarket, 53.
• Ousley, 114.
• Owl (The), 147.
• Oxford, Smalls at, 141;
• rooms at King Edward Street, 170-72.
• Paderewski, 211.
• Paget, Miss Violet. See Lee, Vernon.
• Paillard, Madame, 66.
• — Thérèse, 66.
• Paine, Harry, 64.
• Pair of Spectacles (A), 310.
• Palatine, the, 259.
• Pall Mall Gazette, 149.
• Pamflete, the Bulteels’ house, 34, 58-59.
• Panshanger, 167.
• Panthéon, Paris, 92.
• Papal Guard, the, 253.
• Parachute, 111, 144.
• Paradis des Enfants, 67.
• Paradise Lost, 138.
• Paris, childish impressions, 33, 36;
• visits, 66-67, 91-94, 166, 236;
• the Embassy, 180-207;
• exhibition of 1900, 199, 204;
• Jardin d’Acclimatation, 204-5.
• Paris, Archbishop of, 92.
• Parker, Alexander, 65.
• Paros, 256.
• Parratt, Sir Walter, 103.
• Parry, Hubert, 114.
• Parsifal, 134, 153-54.
• Parthenon, the, 254-55.
• Pasca in La joie fait peur, 53.
• Pasolini, Count, 248-49.
• — Countess, 248-49, 256.
• Passant (Le), Coppée, 228.
• Pater, 137.
• Patmore, Coventry, “Ode,” 193.
• Patti, 26-27, 52.
• Pechom, Robert, epitaph, 199.
• Pekin, 275, 277.
• Pelléas et Mélisande, 305.
• Pensa, 317, 318.
• Pera, the Little Club, 397-98, 420.
• Père Lachaise, tombs, 94.
• Père Prodigue (Le), 140.
• Perlepe, battle of, 416.
• Perrin, M., 229.
• Persimmon, 167.
• Perugia, 158.
• Peter, Danish servant, 225.
• Peterhof, 342.
• Petrukin, deputy, 344-45.
• Pheidias, 255.
• Phèdre, Sarah Bernhardt in, 227, 229, 231, 233, 243, 305.
• Philemonov, Colonel, 283, 287-304 passim.
• Philip, Mr., of the U.S.A. Embassy, 420-29.
• Phillimore, at Ascot, 75-76.
• Piatti, Signor, 24, 55.
• Pickwick, reading of, 74.
• Pierson, acting of, 93.
• Pieterbourski Listok, the, 362.
• Pincio, the, 246, 257.
• Pinero, The Hobby Horse, 53;
• Second Mrs. Tanqueray, 148, 309.
• Piræus, 256.
• Pitt Club, Cambridge, 153.
• Pius IX., Pope, 38.
• Planchette writing, 143.
• Plarr, Victor, 149.
• Plattner Story, Wells, 170.
• Plehve, M., 368.
• Ploetz, M., 109.
• Plutus, 142.
• Plymouth, 40, 41, 45.
• Plympton, 41.
• Poe, Edgar Allan, 112.
• Pogroms, 389-90.
• Ponsonby, Betty, 35, 54, 65, 88, 110, 112.
• — Arthur, 65;
• at Eton, 88;
• in Berlin, 135-37.
• — Sir Henry, 35, 65, 88, 124, 138;
• announces result of the Prince Consort prize, 114-15;
• quotes Paradise Lost, 138.
• — Frederick, 101.
• — John, 65, 88.
• — Fritz, 65.
• — Maggie, 88.
• — Lady, 35, 52, 65, 88, 112, 114.
• Pope, quoted, 201.
• Popoff, Nicholas, 277.
• Porte Saint Martin Theatre, 92.
• Porter, Mr., 97-98.
• Porteuse de Pain (La); Zampa, 93.
• Portia, Shakespeare’s, 163.
• Potapoff, Colonel, 275-76.
• Potemkin, 339.
• Potsdam, 129.
• Pourtalès, Madame de, 193-94.
• Poutilov, General, 298-99.
• Princesse Lointaine, 243.
• Prison (The), Brewster, 250, 252.
• Procès de Jeanne d’Arc (Le), 233.
• Prophète (Le), 92.
• Prudhomme, Sully, article on, by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 226.
• Punch, the “Hornets,” 171.
• Pushkin, 248;
• prose stories, 257.
• Pygmalion and Galatea, 54.
• Pyke-Nott, 83.
• Pyramids, the, 169.
• Quiller-Couch, 149.
• Quincey, De, “Our Lady of Sorrows,” 309.
• R.Y.S. Club, 45.
• Rachel, 52;
• genius of, 227-28.
• Racine, 203, 228, 230;
• Bérénice, 192-93;
• resuscitated by Sarah Bernhardt, 243.
• Radcliffe’s (House), Eton, 88.
• Radford, Ernest, 149.
• Ralli, boy, at Tatham’s, 143.
• Ram Head, 40.
• Ramsay, at Cambridge, 146.
• — editor of the Mayfly, 111.
• Rashleigh, at Eton, 89-90.
• Rawlins, Mr., 104.
• Rawlinson, 29.
• Reade, Charles, Foul Play, 106.
• Reading Biscuit Factory, 76.
• Real Gymnasium, the, Hildesheim, 119-20, 128-29.
• Recouly, of the Temps, 276.
• Reed, German, 17.
• Reform Club, 147.
• Regattas, 44-45.
• Régnier, M. Henri de, on parodies by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 194-195.
• Reichemberg, acting of, 92, 230.
• Réjane, in Zaza, 197;
• as Nora, 210.
• “Rekrutskaya,” 408.
• Renaissance theatre, 92, 233, 242.
• Renan, parody on, 194-95.
• Rennes verdict, the, 196-97.
• Residenz Theater, 136.
• Reske, Jean de, 52, 92.
• Retvizan, torpedoed, 263.
• Revelstoke Church, 36, 40.
• — Lady, 15, 16, 22, 27, 37, 39;
• and Madame Neruda, 28;
• yachting, 45;
• chess-playing, 47-48;
• Schiller’s “Die Glocke,” 50-51;
• and the opera, 52-53;
• at Stafford House, 54-55;
• a pantomime, 63-64;
• Contrexéville, 66;
• the Ascot school, 68-69;
• the first half-term report, 73-75;
• school incidents, 76, 80-81;
• Ascot races, 79-80;
• the Eastbourne school, 84;
• the organ at Charles Street, 86;
• her son’s confirmation, 101;
• the financial crisis, 113;
• visits to Eton, 114;
• and the Prince Consort Prize, 115;
• death, 135.
• — Lord, 14, 27, 47, 130, 157;
• appreciation of acting, 24, 51-53, 63-64;
• yachting, 44;
• versatility of, 50-51;
• gifts of, 55-56;
• bigness of his character, 56-57:
• Contrexéville, 65-66;
• at Cowes, 85;
• the financial crisis, 113;
• death, 177.
• Rêves de Marguerite (Les), 86.
• Revue Bleue, 234.
• Rhodes, 256.
• Rhymers’ Club, 147-48;
• Book of the Rhymers’ Club, 147, 149, 150;
• Second Book of the Rhymers’ Club, 147, 150.
• Rhys, Ernest, 149.
• Riazan Station, 318.
• Riazhk, 318.
• Ribinsk, 368, 369.
• Ries, Mr., 12, 24.
• Ristori, Madame, 227, 245-46.
• Ritchie children, the, 180.
• Ritz Hotel, Sarah Bernhardt at the, 237-39.
• Robe Rouge (La), 197.
• Robert Macaire, 93.
• Roberts, Arthur, 8.
• Robertson, Sir Forbes, 239.
• Roche, M., on the Hon. Maurice essay, 177.
• Rod, Edouard, 184, 195.
• — Sir Rennell, 245.
• Roe, Mr., 34.
• Roebuck shooting in South Russia, 388-89.
• Rois (Les), Lemaître, 233.
• Rolleston, T. W., 149.
• Roman de la Rose (Le), 143, 152.
• Romanesques (Les), 233.
• Rome, life at the Embassy, 245, 259-60;
• Appian Way, 246;
• Campagna, 246, 258-59;
• Palazzo Sciarra, 248;
• Palazzo Antici Mattei, 249-50;
• expeditions, 256;
• the Pincio, 257;
• Villa d’Este, 258-59;
• Tivoli, 259.
• Romney Weir, 117.
• Ronconi, 52.
• Rose, Mlle, of the petits chevaux, 66.
• Rossetti, 112, 139, 170.
• — Christina, 148.
• Rossini, 52.
• Rostand, M., L’Aiglon, 199-204;
• Les Romanesques, 232-33;
• Samaritaine, 233;
• the creation of Sarah Bernhardt, 242.
• — Madame, 204.
• Rothschild château, 205.
• Rotten Row, 25.
• Roublot, M., 98.
• Rowland, sock-shop, 95.
• Rubini, 52.
• Rudel, Geoffrey, 244.
• Rundreise, 133.
• Runnymede, 114.
• Ruskin, 381;
• The King of the Golden River, 20;
• Arthur Benson and, 112.
• Russell, Bertram, 145.
• — Claud, 166, 168-70.
• — Miss Katie, 62.
• — Miss Maud, 62.
• Russia, dark nights in Central, 4;
• the October manifesto, 212;
• the journey to, 218-19, 261;
• life among the intelligentsia, 264-65;
• the State-paid theatres, 265;
• constitutional government promised, 319;
• beginning of the Revolution, 332 et seq.;
• the Empress at Peterhof, 342;
• the people and the priests, 354-55;
• effect of M. Stolypin’s policy, 357-58;
• the second Duma, 367;
• the beggars of, 377;
• South Russia, 386-90;
• the third Duma, 390;
• books on Russian matters, 395;
• pilgrims from, in Constantinople, 400-1;
• the fascination of, 430 et seq.
• Russkoe Slovo, the, 349.
• Ruy Blas, Hugo, 228, 243.
• St. James’s Hall concerts, 23-24, 139.
• St. James’s Theatre, A Scrap of Paper, 28;
• Mr. Hare at the, 53;
• Mrs. Kendal’s acting, 310-11.
• St. John Lateran, church of, 199.
• St. Michael’s Mount, 85.
• St. Peter’s, 246, 259-60;
• Holy Week ceremonies, 253.
• St. Petersburg, 269, 311, 324;
• the Winter Palace, 263;
• Art Theatre, 266;
• opening of the Duma, 339-41;
• journey from Moscow, 352-55;
• a journey down the Volga, 368.
• St. Sophia, Constantinople, 398.
• Saint Victor, M. Castillon de, 204.
• St. Vincent’s School, Eastbourne, 82.
• Sainte Beuve, 117.
• Sainte Chapelle, 92.
• Sainte Geneviève, 92.
• Salisbury, Lord, foreign policy, 166, 173, 178-79.
• Salle, M. Georges La, 269.
• Samara, 314, 315, 375, 378.
• Samaritaine (La), 243.
• Samary, acting of, 92.
• Samsonoff, General, 280.
• San Marino, Duchess of, 38.
• San Stefano, the cholera at, 419-29.
• Sand, George, 235.
• Sanderson, Lord, 179-80.
• Santley, Sir Charles, 24, 27.
• Sappho, “Ode to Aphrodite,” 256.
• Saratov, features, 375, 378.
• Sarcey, on Sarah Bernhardt, 228-29;
• on Racine, 243.
• Sardou, 141, 199;
• Pattes de Mouche, 28;
• Belle Maman, 93;
• plays of, 231, 233;
• Fédora, 305, 309;
• Odette, 305, 309.
• Saturday Review, 158, 195;
• articles by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 261.
• Sazonoff, M., 247-48.
• Scenes from Country Life, 267.
• Schauspielhaus, the, 136.
• Scheidemantel, 134.
• Schneider, Madame, at San Stefano, 421-22, 424-29.
• Schiller, 126-27;
• “Die Glocke,” 50-51;
• Wallenstein’s Tod, 120;
• Brant von Messina, 128;
• compared with Shakespeare, 163;
• and Goethe, 164;
• quoted, 382.
• Schliemann, Dr., 112.
• Schön, M., 208.
• School, at the Haymarket, 53.
• Schools, Russian evening, 326-29.
• Schubert, “Der Leiermann,” 388.
• Schultzen, Fräulein, 131.
• Schumann, Clara, 335.
• Schwartz, Lieut. von, 276.
• Schwerin, boy, 128.
• Scoones, Mr., establishment of, 154-56, 167-69.
• Scott, Herbert, 88, 89.
• — Sir Charles, 263.
• — Sir Walter, 49, 53, 112.
• Scribe and Legouvé, Adrienne Lecouvreur, 308-9.
• Scyra, 256.
• Seagull, Tchekov, 265-66.
• Second Mrs. Tanqueray, Pinero, 148, 309.
• Sedan, 196.
• Servia, occupation of Uskub, 414-16;
• patriotism, 416-17;
• Bulgarian and Servian language compared, 411-12.
• Seven Summers, Carr-Bosanquet, 144.
• Sforza, Catherine, 248.
• Sha-ho river, battle of the, 297-303.
• Shakespeare, German cult of, 126-27;
• and Schiller, 163;
• in Copenhagen, 210;
• Brewster on the production of, 251-52;
• Julius Cæsar in Moscow, 266;
• Nazarenko’s opinion of, 343;
• Sonnets of, 365.
• Shaw, Mr. Bernard, on Mrs. Campbell’s acting, 157-58;
• Dramatic Opinions and Essays, 234;
• on Mrs. Kendal’s acting, 311.
• She, 107.
• She Stoops to Conquer, 83.
• Shelley, 110, 140, 186;
• Arthur Benson and, 112;
• reputation, 126;
• Adonaïs, 161, 163;
• grave in Rome, 246.
• Shelton, Mr., 83.
• Sheppy, housekeeper, 9, 27-28, 81.
• Shorthouse, 105.
• Shuvaloff, Countess, 263.
• Sichkhov, General, 283.
• Siddons, Mrs., 227.
• Simpson of the Daily Telegraph, 276.
• Singing, Russian, 273-74, 351, 432-33.
• Sin-min-tin, 292.
• Sixtine Chapel, Mass in the, 253.
• Skat, card game, 124, 131.
• Slap’s band, 176.
• Sleuthhound, cutter, 45.
• Slough, 84.
• Smielo, 388-89.
• Smith, George, 113.
• — Sidney, 30.
• Smyth, Dr., on Tosti’s art, 61.
• — General, 139.
• — Miss Ethel, her Mass at the Albert Hall, 138-39;
• songs, 139-40;
• in Copenhagen, 215;
• Fantasio, 216.
• Sofia, 417;
• the railway station, 409-10.
• Somotka, 382.
• “Song of the Scug (The),” 111.
• Sophy, or the Adventures of a Savage, Violet Fane, 245.
• So-shan-tse hill, 287-90.
• Sosnofka, visits to, 218-24, 260, 382, 438.
• Sothern, Sam, 51.
• Souris (La), 86.
• South African War, 236-37.
• Speaker, the, 147, 149;
• the Hon. Maurice Baring’s article on L’Aiglon, 200-3.
• Spencer, Herbert, works, 343.
• — Lady Sarah, 68-69.
• — Robert, 15, 135.
• Spring-Rice, Cecil, 191, 263, 324.
• Stackelberg, General, 288, 292.
• Stafford House parties, 54-55, 74.
• Stamboul, 397-400, 411.
• Standard, the, 304.
• Stanislavsky, M., 265, 323.
• Stanley, Arthur, 171.
• — Miss Maude, 62.
• Steamers of the Volga, 375-76.
• Stephen, J. K., poem by, 111;
• at Eton, 112.
• Stevenson, R. L., 53, 105-7, 137, 185;
• Ebb Tide, 148;
• saying of, quoted, 437-38.
• Stewart, at Eton, 89.
• Stolypin, M., 332;
• and Russia’s future, 341-42;
• policy of, 356-57;
• Count Witte on, 368.
• “Stop-shorts,” 313.
• Story-tellers, Russian, 272-73.
• Strong, Arthur, and the Dreyfus case, 185-86;
• on L’Aiglon, 204.
• Studd, at Eton, 103-4.
• Students’ Humour (The), 111.
• Stump Debating Society, 143.
• Sturmer, Miss Van, 22.
• Sucher, Rose, 134.
• Sudermann, Die Ehre, 136;
• Magda, 233.
• Sully, Mounet, 92, 230.
• Sunflower season in Russia, 381-82.
• Sunium, 255.
• Surley, 95.
• Sveaborg, 362.
• Swinburne, 126, 137, 139, 170, 232;
• Eton “Ode,” 102, 114;
• Atalanta in Calydon, 112;
• Astrophel, 148;
• opinions on, 155;
• Jowett and, 364.
• Switzerland, appreciation, 130.
• Sylvie and Bruno, 180.
• Symons, Arthur, 147-49, 155.
• Tauchnitz, Baron, 154, 370.
• Taurid palace, meeting of the Duma in, 339-40.
• Taglioni, Madame, 26.
• Taine, 186;
• Voyage aux Pyrénées, 114;
• article on, by M. Barry, 226.
• Takmakov, officer, 297.
• Talaat Bey, 398.
• Tambov, 380-81.
• Tamburini, 52.
• Tannhäuser, 120, 134, 153, 162.
• Tarver, Lily, 142.
• — Mr. Frank, 99.
• Tashichiao, battlefield of, 280-81.
• Tasso, 126.
• Tatham, Mr., 142-43.
• Tchataldja, 419.
• Tchekov, tomb of, 264;
• plays of, 265-68.
• — Uncle Vania, 269;
• Chaika, 323.
• Tchelabinsk, 352-53.
• Tea-drinking in Russia, 350.
• Temple Bar, poem by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 113.
• Temple, Bishop, 40.
• Temps, the, 276.
• Tennyson, 110, 126, 148, 150;
• “May Queen,” 56.
• Terrioki, Labour meeting at, 345-47.
• Terry, Ellen, art of, 24, 52, 56;
• as Beatrice, 310.
• Tess of the D’Urbervilles, Hardy, 148.
• Thackeray, Vanity Fair, 112.
• Thalers, reckoning by, 129.
• “The Game,” 161-63.
• The Greatest of These, 310.
• Théâtre Antoine, 197.
• Théâtre français, 36, 53, 92, 93, 140, 192;
• Sarah Bernhardt’s connection with, 228-31.
• Théâtre Sarah Bernhardt, 187.
• Thekla, Schiller’s, 163.
• Théodora, Sardou, 231.
• Thompson, Francis, The Hound of Heaven, 150.
• Thompson, Mr., 39.
• Thoughts on Art and Life, Leonardo da Vinci, 260-61.
• Tillet, M. J. de, 234.
• Times (The), 115, 127, 163, 247, 418;
• the Hon. Maurice Baring and, 395.
• Timme, Dr., house of, 118-19, 124, 128-32, 135, 154, 160-61, 172-73;
• on the English poets, 126-72;
• death, 176.
• Todhunter, John, 149.
• Todten-Insel, 256.
• Tolstoy, 137, 219, 235, 248;
• War and Peace, 168;
• Powers of Darkness, 210;
• Nazarenko’s opinion of, 343.
• — Alexis, Tropar, 257-58.
• Toole, art of, 51.
• Toombs, Mr., carpenter, 7-8.
• Tosca (La), Sarah Bernhardt in, 107-8, 231-32.
• Tosti, art of, 61.
• Toula, 315.
• Tourgenev, 219, 248, 259.
• Tovey, Donald, at Balliol, 171-72, 180.
• Transbaikalian railway, 311.
• Trans-Siberian railway, experiences, 277, 314.
• Traverso, Madame, 140, 156-59.
• Treasure Island, 50, 74.
• Trebelli, 52.
• Tree as Svengali, 310.
• Trepov, General, 341, 355.
• Tresco, 85.
• Trevelyan, Robert, 145.
• Trevi, 259.
• Trianon, 206.
• Triolets, 142-43.
• Tristan und Isolda, 134.
• Trollope, 48.
• Tropar, Alexis Tolstoy, 257-58.
• True Cross, a relic of the, 38.
• Tsaritsina, near Moscow, 347, 378, 380-81.
• Tudgay, Mrs., 38-39, 42, 62.
• Turgeniev, 431.
• Turkish character, 425-27.
• — Red Crescent, 422, 427-28;
• British unit, 427-28.
• Turkey, Revolution of May 1909, 395, 397-98.
• Turin, 169.
• Tusini, Mlle, 66.
• Tver, 368.
• Twain, Mark, in German, 223.
• Unbearable Bassington (The), 333.
• Uncle Vania, Tchekov, 266-69.
• Ushitai, town of, 312.
• Uskub, 407, 410, 411;
• Serbian occupation, 412-17;
• Hôtel de la Liberté, 413.
• Vandal, Albert, 199.
• Vandyk in Lohengrin, 153.
• Vardar river, the, 413.
• Vassili, coachman, 326.
• Vaudeville, the Paris, 265.
• Vaughan, Kate, 24.
• Vaux, château of, 206.
• Venice, 141;
• nights in, 4.
• Verdi, 52;
• Otello, 120.
• Verlaine, Paul, 139;
• poetry of, 184;
• Brewster on, 250-51.
• Verne, Jules, 49;
• Michael Strogoff, 220.
• Verrall, Dr., on Boileau, 152;
• stories by, 152-53.
• Versailles, 92, 153, 198.
• Vesuvius Mount, 167.
• Viatka, 358.
• Victoria, Queen, 8;
• Jubilee, 85, 176;
• opens New Schools at Eton, 108;
• bestows the Prince Consort prize on the Hon. Maurice Baring, 114-15;
• a story of Prince Albert and, 131;
• funeral procession, 215-16.
• Vieux Paris (Le), reconstruction of, 93.
• Vigny, Alfred de, 203;
• Cinq Mars, 114.
• Villa Felseck, 124-25.
• Vinci, Leonardo da, Thoughts on Art and Life, 260-61.
• “Vindt,” game of, 374, 387.
• Virginia water, 76.
• Visite de Noces (La), Duse in, 308.
• Vogt, Heinrich (Tristan), 134.
• Vogüé, Melchior de, 195.
• Volga, a journey down the, 368;
• aspect beyond Nijni, 374;
• towns of the Upper, 378-79.
• Vologda, a journey to, 358-66.
• Voltaire, Zaïre, 229.
• Voronezh, 401.
• Vranja, 412.
• Wagner, 52, 133-35;
• Tannhäuser, 120;
• Arthur Strong on, 186;
• Vernon Lee on, 186-87;
• in Copenhagen, 210.
• Wagram, battle of, 202.
• Waldorf Theatre, Duse at the, 305.
• Wales, Prince of (Edward VII.), marriage, 25;
• in Paris, 193.
• — Princess, 24-25;
• parties at Marlborough House, 54-55, 80.
• Walkley, Mr., 149;
• on Sarah Bernhardt, 232-33.
• Wallace, Lew, Ben Hur, 106.
• Wallington, 38.
• War and Peace, Tolstoy, 168.
• Ward, Arnold, 170;
• at Eton, 111;
• Arthur Benson and, 112.
• — Mrs. Humphry, 111;
• Robert Elsmere, 106;
• David Grieve, 148.
• Warre, Dr., at Eton, 14, 46, 81, 99.
• Warsaw, 218-19.
• Wasp, steam launch, 45.
• Waterlooville, home of Chérie, 114.
• Waterwitch, the yacht, 44-45, 85.
• Watson, Mr., butler, 27.
• — William, poems, 147-48, 157.
• Watteau, at the Louvre, 67.
• Watts, exhibitions, 56.
• Webb, Godfrey, 62;
• lines on Christmas at Membland, 42-43.
• Wells, Mr. H. G., History of the World, 47;
• Plattner Story, 170;
• Food of the Gods, 285.
• Westmacott, Lady, 427.
• Westminster Abbey, underground passage to, 390.
• Westminster Gazette, 333.
• Westwater, Dr., 280, 282.
• When we Dead Awaken, 211.
• When William Came, 333.
• Whibley, Charles, 148.
• Whigham, correspondent, 275.
• Whyte-Melville, 48, 106.
• Wigans, the, 51.
• Wilde, Oscar, 324;
• Lady Windermere’s Fan, 148.
• Wildenbruch, Count, 208.
• Williams, stationer, Eton, 95, 117.
• Wilton, Marie (Mrs. Bancroft), 53.
• Winchester match, the, 112.
• Windsor, Norman Tower, 65, 87-88;
• shops, 95;
• St. George’s Chapel, 103.
• Wippern, Eric, 161, 175, 311.
• — Hans, 132-33, 161.
• Witchcraft, in Moscow, 349-50.
• Witte, Count, 332;
• interview with, 367.
• Wood, Charlie, 88.
• — Francis, 88.
• Wordsworth, 186.
• Worms, 93.
• Worthington, schoolfellow, 70, 79.
• Wrest, 167-68.
• Wyndham, Mr. Percy, 62.
• — Mrs. Percy, 62.
• Yantai, battle of, 295-96.
• Yapsley, Mr., 40.
• Yaroslav, journey to, 363-64, 370.
• Yashville, Prince, 389.
• Yealm River, 6, 39, 44.
• Yealmpton, 34.
• Yeats, W. B., 149-50.
• Yellow Book (The), 147;
• article on Anatole France by the Hon. Maurice Baring, 157.
• Yonge, Miss, 49.
• York, Duke of, at Heidelberg, 135.
• Young Turk Party, 397-98.
• Zacchoni, actor, 311.
• Zacharoff, General, 311-12.
• Zaïre, Voltaire, 229.
• Zaza, 197.
• Zerbini, 24.
• Zhilkin, M., 346.
• Zola, 163, 343.