Adventures and Letters HTML version

Russian, of course, and saw the last Coronation and knows that my suite is on the
principal Street and attends to my changing money and getting an omelette-- I can
survive another night now having had an omelette not so good as Madam Masi's but still
an omelette-- I have now left Munich and the Russian and a conductor whom I mistook
for a hereditary prince of Bavaria, with tassels down his back, has assured me he is going
to Berlin, and that I am going to Berlin and much else to which I smile knowingly and
say mucho gracia, wee wee, ya ya, ich ich limmer and other long speeches ending with
"an er--"
May 15th, 1896. Moscow.
We left Berlin Monday night at eleven and slept well in a wagon-lit. That was the only
night out of the five that I spent in the cars that I had my clothes off, although I was able
to stretch out on the seats, so I am cramped and tired now. At seven Monday morning the
guard woke us and told us to get ready for the Custom House and I looked out and saw a
melancholy country of green hills and black pines and with no sign of human life. It was
raining and dreary looking and then I saw as we passed them a line of posts painted in
black and white stripes a half mile apart on each side of the train and I knew we had
crossed the boundary and that the line of posts stretched from the Arctic Ocean to the
Black Sea and from the Pacific to the Caucasus Mountains and the Pamirs. It gave me a
great thrill but I have had so many to-day, that I had almost forgotten that one. For two
days we jogged along through a level country with meanthatched huts and black crows
flying continually and peasants in sheepskin coats, full in the skirt and tight at the waist,
with boots or thongs of leather around their feet. The women wore boots too and all the
men who were not soldiers had their hair cropped short like mops. We could not find any
one who understood any language, so as we never knew when we would stop for food,
we ate at every station and I am of the opinion that for months I have been living on hot
tea and caviar and hash sandwiches. The snow fell an inch deep on Wednesday and dried
up again in an hour and the sun shone through it all. So on the whole it was a good trip
and most interesting. But here we are now in a perfect pandemonium and the Czar has
not yet come nor one-fifth even of the notables. It is a great city, immense and
overpowering in its extent. The houses are ugly low storied and in hideous colors except
the churches which are like mosques and painted every color. I confess I feel beaten to
night by the noise and rush and roar and by so many strange figures and marvellous
costumes. Our rooms are perfect that is one thing and the situation is the very best. If the
main street were Fifth Avenue and Madison Square the Governor's Square, his palace
would be Delmonico's and our rooms would be the corner rooms of the Brunswick, so
you can see how well we are placed. We can sit in our windows and look down and up
the main street and see every one who leaves or calls upon the Governor. We are now
going out for a dinner and to one of many cafe-chantants and I will tell you the rest to-
morrow, when I get sleep, for after five nights of it I feel done up, but I feel equally sure
it is going to be a great experience and I cannot tell you how glad 1 am that I came. Love
to you all and to dear Florence in which Trowbridge, who is a brick, joins me.