Sept. 11th.—We are passing the most shallow part of the “Oussouri.” The water is so shallow that we advance with great difficulty. We dropped anchor five miles off Khabarovsk. Two barges with sails were sent to meet us with an officer and thirty rowers, in case we could not advance further on our boat, and it came out that it was the barges that had to be helped, for during the night a squall arose, followed by a shower, which nearly submerged the barges. The officer and soldiers had to be taken on board.
Sept. 12th.—We are at our journey’s end. Our next station will be Khabarovsk. We advance very slowly in order not to arrive at Khabarovsk before the appointed hour—nine o’clock in the morning.
CHAPTER LXXIII
KHABAROVSK
We approach Khabarovsk, which, like ancient Rome, is built on seven slopes divided by deep ravines. Each slope has its own principal street, cut by transversal lanes which descend to the ravines. Khabarovsk stands at the joining of two grand rivers, the “Amour” and the “Oussouri.” In about ten minutes a large building came to view. It was the so-called “Castle,” our future residence, an imposing red-brick house with the General-Governor’s flag waving from the roof.
We were received at Khabarovsk with much display of military pomp, and cheered by the entire population, which was on the pier to see us land. The quay was spread out with red cloth and decorated with flags. All Khabarovsk appeared to turn out: men, women, and children. There was a salute of one hundred and one cannon-shots from the batteries to welcome us. My husband was received on the quay by the authorities and the Municipality of the town. After a speech of welcome, they presented him with “Bread and Salt” on a silver salver. The Mayor of the town, an exiled Pole, addressed a few flattering words to me, saying that great things were expected from me. I was very much embarrassed, and stood there with burning cheeks.
I entreated Sergy, just the same as at Vladivostock, to walk on to the “Castle.” We made quite an imposing procession. The town was dressed all over with flags and the balconies ornamented with draperies. The streets were lined with people all the way down to the “Castle.” The windows of the houses were full of faces gazing at us. A double row of soldiers were placed on each side of the road. All along the way we were loudly greeted by the people, and showers of flowers fell at my feet when we passed through the streets. On our way we entered the cathedral. The church was crowded. The bishop, in full sacerdotal costume, waited to receive us and to officiate a solemn mass. Baron Korff, my husband’s predecessor, is buried inside the cathedral. Sergy laid upon his tomb a large silver wreath which he had brought up from Moscow. The schools of Khabarovsk stood in a line from the cathedral right up to our house. The school girls strewed roses in my path. Then we went into the “Castle.” The first arrival in my new home was not encouraging, thanks to the awkwardness of one of my husband’s secretaries, who gave me a very unpleasant piece of information, breaking to me the news that the boat Nijni-Novgorod with all our household, had been wrecked on the coast of Aden. I could scarcely keep from bursting into tears. I departed to the privacy of my room and fell into a chair without taking off my hat. I sat and wondered how I would take to this life. Here I was in a foreign land, a fearful distance from home! I felt utterly desolate in this great strange house and looked a picture of forlorn misery. I could control myself no longer, and burying my face in my hands, I wept and sobbed unrestrainedly. But I must put a good face upon things before Sergy. I must and I will!
In the evening there was a display of fireworks which we admired from our verandah. In front of the entrance blazed an immense shield with “Welcome” in transparencies, and the initials “B. S.” (Barbara, Sergius) on it. A military band was playing in the pavilion of the assembly just opposite us. The idea came to me to go for a stroll incognito as far as the monument of Count Mouravieff-Amourski, the conqueror of the Provinces of the Amour. The statue stands in front of the river on a huge pedestal dominating the whole plain of the “Amour.” My incognito was soon discovered, and people made way to us as we walked past the row of curious eyes, on the boulevard all flaming with garlands of fire. I hate nothing so much as exhibiting myself. It was very creepy to be stared at like that!
On the next day Sergy sent a telegram to Vladivostock to the agent of the Volunteer Fleet with inquiries about the fate of the Nijni-Novgorod and received on the same night a reassuring answer that the boat was safe and sound, and had just left Colombo.
Our house is so large that we can easily be lost in it. One of the immense halls is decorated with life-size portraits of our Emperor and the Heir to the throne, under which, on a silver plate, was engraved that His Imperial Highness had stopped in the house during his recent visit to the Orient. From my windows I could look at the “Amour,” flowing along deep and broad. I enjoyed seeing the ships crowded with tourists go past.