A first trip up the Elbe in the winter time was a fine corrective for any feeling of stagnation. The Company was kind enough to supply us with a North Sea pilot, a shipmaster acquainted with those waters, but I had no idea of letting him do aught else than consult me. In this case he was not anxious to assume any responsibility, but arriving one night after dark at the mouth of the Elbe, we got on board as a pilot a little old man, who gave one the idea of Rip Van Winkle. There was a lot of ice coming down, and I was considerably surprised when the pilot asked me to put the anchor down with the ship making at least six knots through the water. It was quite all right, however, and next day we got to Hamburg. My instructions were to give a dinner and entertainment to some of the shipping magnates, and that I proceeded to do, sending out invitations on the advice of our agent. The eventful evening came round, and I had had some doubt for a day or so as to the strict sobriety of my chief steward. As dinner was proceeding I looked backwards where I could see the pantry, and then observed the steward in a helpless state of inebriety. He caught a look from me that would have sufficed to wither an anchor, but he was too far gone to be affected. My own personal servant and the head waiter pulled us through, however, all right. The dessert was hardly on the table when one of the guests was on his feet proposing the health of the Kaiser, and the rest got up and yelled “Hoch” enough to lift the deck beams. I sat fast and said nothing, for the situation was an awkward one. I was host, but it was a British ship, and our Queen had to come first, so when the national ebullition had died down, I got on my feet as I said to propose the first toast of the evening, “The Queen and the Kaiser.” That was perhaps too great a concession, but it was better than discord under the circumstances. It was duly honoured and the rest was harmony, for I had provided music. My servant at that time was a perfect attendant; I scarcely needed to tell him anything, for he had the faculty of anticipating my wishes. There was one of the guests who was needlessly pro-German throughout the evening, but at the end of it he had to be put into a cab and sent home. I fancy that for his final brandy and soda he must have had brandy and gin. I gave no instruction or hint on the matter, but I had the impression that honours were about easy at the finish. A day or so afterwards he came to wish me _bon voyage_, but he did not seem very well, and I doubt if he meant it. It was so cold in Hamburg that the steam winches on deck had to be kept moving all night when not in use, to prevent them freezing, and as the ice-breaker was not then properly at work we had to cut our own way through the ice going down the river. When we got back to Southampton the ship’s sides at the water line were bare of paint, and the steel side was as bare as a knife and the same colour.