In Moscow wonderful preparations have been made in the way of decorations. Our capital is in a state of extraordinary excitement. Triumphal arches and large tribunes are built on the principal squares. A great number of houses have their fronts decorated with carpets and flowers.
Our old capital is crowded to its utmost. People come from all parts of the world to see the ceremony of crowning. Every place in the trains was booked weeks in advance. The troops of the Guard Regiments continue to arrive from St. Petersburg. Along the streets move cavalry and guns. At our entrance door a placard says, “Staff of all the troops quartered in Moscow during the Coronation festivals.”
My husband’s eldest brother has arrived to be present at the Coronation. He had to take part in the equestrian procession of the Russian nobility. I went to see the rehearsal of it, and nearly choked with laughter at the sight of the timorous expression painted on the faces of some of these brave knights, who sat on their horses all of a huddle, and were wrapped up in observation of their own movements. The nobility certainly did not shine in the saddle. My brother-in-law’s neighbour, a stout and rosy country gentleman, clutched at his horse’s mane and asked him anxiously if his horse would not bite his heels, and confessed that he did not at all feel safe, being quite out of practice now, not having been for some twenty years on horseback.
The Emperor arrived at Moscow on the 8th May and drove straight to Petrovski Palace. There is much to be dreaded during the Coronation festivities, for the anarchists are not slumbering, and agents of the secret police had to be placed on the whole way. The triumphal entry of the Tzar into the town of Moscow took place two days afterwards. A great crowd had assembled in the streets through which the procession was to proceed to see the Emperor’s entry. I and my sister-in-law had the privilege of being given good places on one of the tribunes built on the square just opposite the Kremlin. It was at the risk of our limbs and lives that we got there, being nearly crushed to death. We found ourselves in a dense crowd and marched boldly through the throng, our dresses leaving a good deal of themselves behind. We ventured within the rope drawn to keep back the crowd, and nearly reached our places when a new encumbrance arose, a row of soldiers refused to let us pass, but their chief took pity on us and cut our way through his men. At last we got inside the Kremlin with a deep sigh of relief.
We had to wait for the procession from early morning till two o’clock in the afternoon. The day was grey, the sky looked threatening, it was undoubtedly going to pour soon, and we risked being drenched as our tribune was uncovered and our umbrellas had been taken away from us at the entrance. But I was not made of sugar or salt, and preferred to have my dress ruined and to be drenched to the bone rather than be deprived of the beautiful sight which awaited us. To crown all, I was awfully hungry, not having had time to breakfast before starting, and it had been strictly forbidden to bring anything in one’s pockets for fear of concealed explosions blowing everyone up. A lady sitting next to me had a squabble with a policeman through an inoffensive orange which she had taken out of her pocket. She was not allowed to eat it even in his presence.
Outside the rope there was an indescribable squeeze. The crowd swayed with a wavelike motion and made a rush besieging the barrier. The human waves were kept back by several lines of soldiers and a double row of policemen. Such a crowd was almost beyond imagination.
At two o’clock precisely the guns began to fire and the bells to ring a full peal, announcing that the Tzar had left Petrovski Palace and was on his way to the Kremlin. Soon the procession appeared in sight and the crowd began to acclaim their Sovereign by loud cheers; all the heads were bare. As I am a creature of strong emotions I, too, screamed to make myself hoarse. The procession advanced in the following order: First came a golden coach drawn by a team of splendid white horses in which sat the Empress and the Grand Duchesses. The Emperor rode behind with the Tzarevitch at his side, on a lovely pony. The Grand Dukes and the officers of the guard regiments brought up the rear. The spectacle was most imposing.
For three days the Heralds in heraldic costumes rode about the town announcing by sound of trumpet that the ceremony of the Coronation would take place on the 15th May.
The great day arrived. Long before six o’clock in the morning the streets were black with excited crowds. I rose when it was only beginning to be daylight and at seven o’clock we were already driving to the Kremlin; it was printed on our tickets that after eight o’clock nobody would be allowed to enter its enclosure, and that was the reason we had to start so early. The large square was covered all over with red cloth. Ministers of the State and officers in full uniform began to assemble. The tribune on the opposite side was occupied by foreign Royalties and representatives of the different Oriental countries in gala costumes studded all over with precious stones. The Khan of Khiva was glittering like the sun. The Grand Duke Waldemar, accompanied by a numerous suite, came out of the palace and proceeded to the Cathedral of Assumption where the Tzars are crowned, followed by all the members of the Imperial Family, the ladies of the Court wearing the national dress of the richest style, the Court officials resplendent in their gorgeous uniforms, the Ambassadors of foreign countries with their spouses, the personages of the first two classes and all the authorities of the town with my husband amongst them. The bewildering variety of the many different uniforms, both military and diplomatic, was striking. Our troops standing in long rows, with the standard of every regiment, were an imposing sight. The Metropolitan, with a mitre on his head, in magnificent vestments thick with gold embroideries, followed by his Archbishops, came out of the Cathedral to meet Their Majesties who were slowly descending the steps of the wide marble staircase of the palace, coming out of the private apartments to proceed to the Cathedral. The Tzar gave his arm to the Tzarin, whose train was carried by four pages, behind came a long file of ladies-in-waiting and maids-of-honour. A company of the regiment of the Chevalier Guards walked ahead, behind them came forty-eight pages, and a second platoon of Chevalier Guards brought up the rear. The day was grey and wet, it soon began to rain, but it was indeed remarkable that at the moment Their Majesties appeared, the heavy clouds broke away and out burst sunshine, whilst a flock of white doves circled around them. At the foot of the staircase sixteen generals aide-de-camps to the Emperor supported a magnificent baldachin under which Their Majesties passed on to the Cathedral to be crowned, whilst guns were repeatedly firing. At the end of the ceremony there was a clamour of joy bells and the military bands began to play our National Anthem. It was a thrilling moment and my excitement was intense.
That evening Moscow was beautifully illuminated; the belfries of the numerous cathedrals and the towers of the Kremlin glittered with different-coloured lights. From all parts gushed out fountains illuminated by Bengal-lights. I felt myself transported into dreamland.