Spring came with galloping speed. The date of the Coronation was fixed for the 15th May. I went to see the Court Regalias exposed to view in the Kremlin Palace. The crown and the sceptre, studded with precious stones as big as nuts, amazed me by their incredible richness. On the walls hung Gobelin tapestries and pictures taken from the Bible. Just opposite the Metropolitan’s seat I saw a painting illustrating the story of Potipher’s wife dragging Joseph by his legendary mantle. These heroes of the Ancient Testament being very lightly clad, the police censor had found it necessary to dress them in a more decent manner for the Coronation, leaving at the same time, just next to that picture, a large canvas representing a group of the “Happy Just” enjoying Paradise in a completely nude state. I also went to see a fine assortment of State carriages and the beautiful horses which were to drag them, pure white Hanoverians all of them. 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.