Page 36 - Life of Gertrude Bell
P. 36

24                    GERTRUDE BELL
                      Spain: ‘That old scoundrel Pigottl—peace be to his ashes!
                      What apes the Times people have been. Fancy building a Palace
                      of Justice with Pigott for a foundation stone ... I never could sec
                      myself that Mr Parnell’s private character had much bearing on
                      the Union.’
                        Her audacious approach to the male-dominated world in
                      which she moved found another expression in her retort to a
                      foreign statesman who was discussing weighty matters of
                      European politics with Sir Frank Lascelles. To the dismay of
                      her hostess she told him: T1 me semble, Monsieur, que vous
                      n’avez pas saisi l’esprit du peuple allemand.’ Her stepmother,
                      commenting many years later, observed: ‘There is no doubt
                      that ... it was a mistake for Gertrude to proffer her opinions,
                      much less her criticisms, to her superiors in age and experi­
                      ence.’
                        She did not neglect the social side of her visit. ‘I can’t attempt
                      to tell you whom I danced with for it was impossible to remember
                      them all... ’ At a concert she shared a box with Uncle Frank and
                      the two boys opposite that of Rumania’s poet Queen Elizabeth,
                      who was better known by her literary name of Carmen Sylva.
                      And the highlight of the stay was a charity ball at which the
                      Queen went over to Mary Lascelles and Gertrude and had a long
                      talk with them. She finally presented Gertrude with ten francs
                      and sent her to buy tombola tickets. ‘I drew nothing but blanks.
                      But wasn’t it sweet of her?’
                        She spent nearly four months altogether in Bucharest before
                      leaving for Constantinople. Even at the last moment the leisured
                      party put off its departure. On April 20th she wrote to her father:
                      ‘We have put off our going to Constantinople till Saturday, for
                      the weather has become deliciously warm again and we are all
                      going down to Sinaia tomorrow. Last night Mr Chirol, Uncle
                      Frank, Billy and I went to see one of the great midnight services ... ’
                      There followed one of those descriptive essays that were to flow
                      more frequently from Gertrude’s pen as the years went by.

                        The whole sight of the church crowded with people carrying
                        lighted tapers, the splendidly dressed priests, the smell of
                        incense and the curious ceremonies was rather interesting but
                        it gave me a disagreeable impression I think. It was so extra­
                        ordinarily undevout; the people stopped in the middle of a sign
                        of the cross to gossip with their neighbours and the very
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