We lingered a little on the terrace overlooking the river where there is a fine view of the town, and came out by the Porte St. Sauveur, where everyone, Emperor and peasant, uncovers. I was glad to get home and rest a little before dinner, but I have had a delightful afternoon.
I will finish this evening, as the bag goes to-morrow. We had a pleasant dinner, our personnel only, and Colonel Benckendorff, who told us all we had to do these days. The day of the Coronation we meet at the German Embassy (General Schweinitz, who married Anna Jay, is Doyen of the Corps Diplomatique), and go all together to the Kremlin. The hour of rendezvous is 8 there, and as it is quite far off, and the gala carriages go on a walk, we must leave here at 7, and get up at Heaven knows what hour. What do you think we will look like in full Court dress at that hour in the morning? Our dinner was very good—wines, fruit, etc. W. complimented Lhermite.
To-morrow we start at 11 for the Palace of Prince Dolgourouky, Governor of Moscow, from where we see the Emperor pass on his way to the Kremlin. It is not far away, but the streets are so barricaded and shut up that we must make a long détour. The most stringent measures are taken, all windows closed, no canes nor umbrellas allowed, and a triple line of troops all along the route. The maids are much excited. They have places in one of the Tribunes, and M. Lhermite is going to escort them. In some marvellous way they have been able to communicate with the Russian maids, and have given me various pieces of information. I have left the gentlemen all smoking in the serre, except W., who retired to his own quarters, as he had some despatches to write. He has had a long talk with Jaurès this afternoon, and has also seen Sir Edward Thornton, British Ambassador. The house is quite quiet—the court-yard asleep, as no carriages or horses have been out to-night. We have two ordinary Russian landaus, with those fast little horses, for our every-day outings, as the big coupé d'Orsay only goes out on state occasions.
The detective has made his report, and says the Nihilists will do nothing to-morrow—perhaps the night of the gala at the Opéra. It is curious to live in such a highly charged atmosphere, and yet I am less nervous—I wonder why—the excitement I suppose of the whole thing. Well, Good-night, Dear; I would say it in Russian if I could, but so far all I have learnt is "Tchai," which means tea, and "Karosch," which seems to be an exclamation of delighted admiration. The little maid says it every time I appear in a new garment.
To H. L. K
How shall I ever begin to describe to you, Dear, the wonderful life we are leading. Everything is unlike anything I have ever seen. I suppose it is the beginning of the real far-off East. This morning I am sitting at the window reading and writing, and looking out into the court-yard, which is a never-failing interest—such quantities of people always there. The first thing I hear in the morning is Pontécoulant's voice. He is there every day at eight o'clock, conferring with Leroy and Hubert, examining the horses and carriages, deciding which ones are to be used, and giving orders for the day.
Then arrive the two Russian landaus which go all day, and very different they look from our beautiful equipages and big important servants. Then comes Lhermite, rattling off, in a low pony cart, with the boy from the Consulate along-side of him. He goes to market every day, and nearly has a fit because he can't talk himself, and he knows they are all lying, and stealing, and imposing upon him generally. In one corner there is a group of little Russian horses tied to the stable doors, with Russian soldiers fussing over them. They have been sent from one of the cavalry barracks for the gentlemen to ride.
In every direction men are cleaning carriages, saddles, harness, liveries; and with such little noise—they are extraordinarily quiet.
We have just got back from the Governor's palace; and to-night the Emperor is safe in the Kremlin.
It was a marvellous day. We started (the whole Mission) at 10.30 this morning, W. and I alone in the d'Orsay, which looked very handsome. It is dark blue with white stripes, like all our carriages, and lined with blue satin of rather a lighter shade. The men were in demi-gala, blue plush breeches, white silk stockings, and high hats (not tricornes), with silver bands and cords. Thornton, the English coachman, looked very smart, and handled his big black horses perfectly. The gentlemen told us he used very strong language when he got back to the stables over the abomination of the Moscow pavement. We were preceded as usual by Richard and Benckendorff in a light carriage. I wore one of Philippe's dresses, brown gauze embroidered in velvet flowers, all the front écru lace, and an ecru straw bonnet, with a vieux rose velvet crown.
I was much amused while I was dressing to hear various members of the party in the lingerie, "Madame, voulez-vous me coudre un bouton," "les plumes de mon chapeau ne tiennent pas," etc., even Thornton came in to have his lace cravate tied. We were a long time getting to Prince Dolgourouky's palace; not that it is far away, but the streets are barricaded in every direction, however I didn't mind—the crowd was so interesting, packed tight; they had been standing for hours, they told us, such pale, patient faces, but so unjoyous; no jokes, nor bits of songs, nor good-natured scuffling; so unlike our Paris crowd on a great fête day, laughing and chaffing, and commenting freely on everything; and certainly very much unlike the American-Irish crowd at home in New York, on the 4th of July or St. Patrick's day. I remember quite well putting boxes of fire-crackers in a tin pail to frighten the horses, and throwing numerous little petards under people's feet, but no one seemed to mind. Fancy the effect of a pailful of fire-crackers exploding in any part of Moscow to-day. The tribunes covered with red cloth, or red and gold, crammed; and armies of soldiers, mounted and on foot, in every direction; and yet we were only in the side streets. The real crowd was in the Tverskaya where the cortége was to pass.
When we finally arrived we were received by the Governor's two nieces, Madame Mansouroff and Princess Obolenski. The Prince, like all the other Russian noblemen, took part in the cortége. All our colleagues were there, but the Duc de Montpensier was the only special envoy. All the other foreign Princes were riding with the Emperor's suite. It was almost a female gathering, though of course all the men of the Corps Diplomatique were there. We waited some little time in the large drawing-room, where many presentations were made; and then had a very handsome breakfast, people talking easily, but the Russians visibly nervous and preoccupied. As soon as it was over we went out on the balconies, where we remained until the cortége had passed. They brought us tea at intervals, but I never stirred from my chair until the end.
It was a beautiful sight as we looked down—as far as one could see, right and left, flags, draperies, principally red and gold, green wreaths, flowers and uniforms—the crowd of people well kept back behind a triple row of soldiers, the middle of the street perfectly clear, always a distant sound of bells, trumpets, and music. A salute of cannon was to let us know when the Emperor left Petrofski, the small palace just outside the walls where he has been all these days. As the time drew near one felt the anxiety of the Russians, and when the first coup sounded, all of them in the Palace and in the street crossed themselves. As the procession drew near the tension was intense. The Governor's Palace is about half way between the gate by which the Emperor entered and the Kremlin. He had all that long street to follow at a foot's pace. As soon as he entered the Kremlin another cannon would tell his people he was safe inside.
At last the head of the gorgeous procession appeared. It was magnificent, but I can't begin to tell you the details. I don't even remember all I saw, but you will read it all in the papers, as of course all their correspondents are here. There were quantities of troops of all descriptions, the splendid chevaliers-gardes looked very imposing with their white tunics and silver cuirasses; both horses and men enormous. What I liked best were the red Cossacks (even their long lances red). They look perfectly wild and uncivilized and their little horses equally so, prancing and plunging all the time.
The most interesting thing to me was the deputations from all the provinces of this vast Empire—Kirghis, Moguls, Tartars, Kalmucks, etc. There was a magnificent chief from the Caucase, all in white, with jewelled sword and