Yesterday the Emperor wished to ride through the camp of the Guards, whom he has not seen since he ascended the throne, because, in consequence of the war, they had been removed to Lithuania and Poland, and are now encamped at an hour’s distance on a vast plain.  A solemn mass, at which the Empress was also present, preceded this.  We drove out in complete gala dress through thick clouds of dust.  The Emperor rode with his suite.  He looked very well on horseback.  At this moment it began to rain, and poured uninterruptedly.  Fortunately we found shelter under the open tent in which the altar was, and in which the mass was said, or, rather, sung.  All further inspection was countermanded, and we returned home.

In the evening I drove to Petrofskoy.  It lies in the midst of a wood, and has a very odd appearance.  The castle proper is a three-storied quadrangle with a green cupola.  The entrances are supported by the most singular bottle-shaped bulging columns, and the whole is surrounded by a turreted wall, with battlements and loopholes.  This red-and white-painted fortress, the light of which radiates from the high windows through the dark forest, recalls a fable of the Arabian Nights.  All monasteries and castles here are fortified.  They were the only points capable of holding out when the Golden Tribe rushed upon them with twenty or thirty thousand horses, and devastated all that flat country.  Long after their yoke was broken, the Khans of Tartary in the Crimea were formidable enemies.  The watchmen from the highest battlements of the Kremlin were continually observing the wide expanse toward the south; and when the dust-clouds rose thence, and the great bell (kolokol) of Ivan Welicki rang the alarm, every one fled behind the walls of the Czar’s palace or to the monasteries, upon whose walls the infuriated horsemen struck and dashed in vain.  The Christianity, science, and culture of the Russian nation sought shelter in the cloisters, and from them started afterward Russia’s deliverance from the domination of the Mongolians and Poles.

Today there was again mass in the open air, and five battalions received new flags, which in addition were blessed by the priests; then the Metropolitan Archbishop walked the length of the front and sprinkled the troops thoroughly with holy water; some of the men were practically soaked to the skin.  The Emperor and both Empresses not only kissed the cross, but the archbishop’s hand.  Then the Emperor passed the front of every battalion, and, with a true military attitude, spoke a few words to the men, which were received with endless applause.  He was an excellent rider, and rode a well-trained horse.  Then he inspected the front of the whole camp—­one and a half German miles.  There were seventy-four battalions, with eight hundred men apiece—­about sixty thousand men in all.  They stood unarmed and in caps, all of them old, bearded, and dark-faced.

I care nothing for the deafening hurrahs that lasted two hours; but these old, mustached men show how glad they are to see their Czar.