August 24th.—The day for leaving Khabarovsk came at last. We started this afternoon for the Land of Desire, to St. Petersburg, darling place. Colonel Serebriakoff, his wife and Mr. Shaniavski, accompanied us on our long voyage.
There was a great crowd on the quay to see us off and wish us a pleasant journey. We embarked on the ship Neptune to Iman, from where we take the train to Vladivostock. We hasten to say our good-byes. The flying-bridge is taken off, the last whistle is blown, and we are off to Europe.
It was growing dark when we weighed anchor at Kasakevitchi, a Cossack settlement, where a Te Deum was sung in the village chapel for our safe journey. Log-fires burnt along the shore, and the Cossacks cheered us enthusiastically.
August 26th.—It was about seven in the morning when we arrived at Iman and made our way to the special train which was waiting for us. It was composed of three saloon-cars. We advance slowly, with great precautions, going twenty miles an hour only, because the ballast is not firmly set yet. Just about a year ago we drove in these parts in an antediluvian carriage, by impossible roads covered with untrodden forests, and now we proceed by train, with all the comfort of modern communication. It took formerly a whole week to reach Vladivostock, and now the journey is made in three days! Scores of “manzas,” Chinese workmen, are completing the railway-line. Their heads are enveloped in a rag, to protect them from the bites of the mosquitoes, which abound here. We do not stop at the stations because of the cholera raging in these parts.
August 27th.—We arrived at Nikolskoe two hours late, and put up again at the house of General Kopanski. We’ll stay a few days here, for Sergy wants to assist at the manœuvres.
August 28th.—I accompanied my husband to the camp this morning. The soldiers cheered loudly as we passed. After the manœuvres my husband invited to dinner all the commanders of the troops.
August 30th.—The weather is heavy and stormy; it has been raining for the last twenty-four hours. I remained all day indoors.
August 31st.—We left Nikolskoe this morning. A platoon of Cossacks escorted us to the railway station, where a great crowd had gathered to see us off. Sergy stood at the window of his car answering the loud cheers of the population.
We passed in the afternoon a sandy slope called “Gliding Hill,” which approaches progressively the railway line, and soon perceived the sea in the distance. Towards midday we arrived at Vladivostock where the reception was enthusiastic.
The house of the Military Club is put at our disposal. Our windows look on the “Golden Horn.” Russian and foreign cruisers are anchored in the vast bay. Every day a new steamer arrives. Here is a trading vessel carrying the Dutch flag, advancing towards the pier. I see numerous fishing-smacks plying towards the open sea.
Official visits have been exchanged between my husband and the admirals. Sergy went over to the cruisers in a steam-launch carrying his standard. He called first on Admiral Tirtoff, the chief of the Russian fleet, on his man-of-war Pamiat Azova, on which our Emperor made his voyage around the world when he was heir to the throne. According to naval etiquette, every time my husband left a vessel cannons were fired.
September 1st.—This morning we were awakened by a loud cannonade; it was the cruisers who were saluting each other as they usually do every morning. To-day we are giving a dinner to a hundred guests. All the admirals and commanders of the troops are invited with their families.
September 5th.—This afternoon twenty-five naval officers came to be presented to me; they were sent by their commanders, who wanted to entertain me on their cruisers.
September 6th.—There came an invitation to dinner to-day from Admiral Tirtoff, which I wanted to decline because Sergy was unwell, but I had to go all the same. I started off at seven o’clock in a steam-launch, accompanied by Colonel and Mrs. Serebriakoff, Mr. Shaniavski, and one of Sergy’s aide-de-camps. Before boarding the cruiser we had to undergo an examination. On seeing our approach the officer on duty shouted out: “Who are you?” and the lieutenant who commanded our launch gave him the password: “Officer.” The cruiser was illuminated in our honour by lamps of different colours. The officers helped me along the foot-bridge, and Admiral Tirtoff advanced to meet us. He offered me his arm and took me to the brilliantly illuminated dining-room flooded with electric light and full of guests. The Admiral put me at his right hand. I was made much of; the officers were charming to me. Everyone seemed in the best of spirits and everything was unceremonious and cosy. I enjoyed myself tremendously. Here I was in the midst of life once more; formalities were quickly forgotten, and my modesty was not a bit shocked by the complimentary speeches of our amiable hosts. I also was in one of my most reckless and vivacious moods, and threw all my reserves to the winds. It was delightful to be treated without any manner of deference by our hosts, and I had rather be admired than esteemed. I am not made of wood altogether! Directly after dinner the pet of the crew was presented to me: a baby-bear. The animal was very clever, he performed many tricks, and amused us with his antics; he drank champagne at a gulp, straight from the bottle, and got drunk. I was suddenly aware that it was getting late, but it was in vain that Mrs. Serebriakoff tried to hurry me home; our hosts would not let me go, and I, on my part, had no wish to leave the ship, just when the fun was at its height. It was not often I got a chance of amusing myself like that! It was past midnight when we said good-bye to the gallant mariners. The second officer escorted us back to the shore. An enormous electric search-light showed us our way. During our short crossing the officer found time to tell me that I did not look at all like a hermit, and was not made for dull existence; he pitied me that my social position hindered me from profiting of the joys of life, and advised me to shake myself up a bit. Wicked Mephistopheles!
September 7th.—Sergy went to the camp to inspect the troops, together with the representatives of the civil, military and naval forces. Before they left the camp, reciprocal hurrahs cheered our Emperor, the army and the navy.
September 10th.—Our stay at Vladivostock was a long round of gaiety and pleasure. I lived in a whirl of excitement. To-day we were invited to dine on the flagship “Nicholas II.” As we approached the cruiser we heard the sounds of a band striking up a march. The officer gave us a warm reception and the Admiral offered me a big bouquet tied with a lovely piece of Japanese silk, embroidered with fantastical arabesques. I saw in the dining-room amongst other guests a young opera singer, Señorita Estrella Bellinfanti, a pupil of Tosti, who had arrived from Japan for a few days. The young diva is going on to America on a tournée, escorted by a lady-companion. After a long illness that she has gone through, the poor señorita begins to lose her sight. She told me that in the space of another year she would be quite blind, which will oblige her to abandon the artistic career, which she adores. Seeing her so gay and bright, nobody could dream of the tragedy awaiting the poor girl. After dinner we had an improvised concert. One of the officers sat down at the piano to accompany Señorita Estrella, who sang in a sweet mezzo-soprano voice lovely Spanish songs, after which the officers sang in chorus Russian songs, in very good time and rhythm, to the accompaniment of guitars. I was asked to play on the mandolin; the officers were so insistent that it was not easy to refuse, and finally I yielded to their entreaties, but I couldn’t be induced to sing. The officers, thinking that it was my husband’s presence which kept me back, proposed to detain him on deck during my performance, but it was all in vain, I would not sing. We returned on shore very late and went to bed with the evening star.
September 11th.—We have visited the young ladies’ gymnasium this afternoon. The pupils presented me with a richly embroidered table-cloth of their own work.
September 12th.—Sergy has gone to Possiette, to the extreme point of Oriental Siberia on the frontier of Corea, to review the troops. The Admirals accompanied him on their cruisers.
September 14th.—My husband has returned to-day from his voyage. How long the time has seemed to me in his absence!
A steamer has just arrived, bringing a battalion of sappers. The boat had nearly perished on its way, having been caught by a tempest near Singapore. When the boat moored to the quay a band struck up a march to the sappers, with a flourish of trumpets, whilst the soldiers stood in ranks on the deck and shouted hurrah.
September 15th.—To-day the naval officers arranged a concert for me at the Naval Club. The entertainment was quite a success. Señorita Estrella took part in it; sitting on the floor, she sang Spanish songs charmingly, to her own accompaniment on the guitar. She was much applauded and sang song after song. The audience crowded around the platform and threw flowers to her. The marine officers sang in chorus Russian folk songs, and shared Señorita Estrella’s success, sending the audience wild. One of the officers played a solo on the balalaika. He is a virtuoso of that Russian national instrument; it was marvellous how he could draw such rich sounds from that primitive three-corded thing.