A. JOURNEY IN SIBERIA. 391 



two capitals of the Russian Empire. We had respectfully taken 

 leave of his Majesty our own noble Emperor in Berlin, had 

 received cordial recommendations from the German Foreign Office, 

 and had met with a friendly welcome from the German Embassy 

 in St. Petersburg, so we had hoped for a favourable reception in 

 Russia, but the hospitality accorded us far exceeded our boldest 

 expectations. His Majesty the Czar was pleased to give us an 

 audience; princes and princesses of the imperial house deigned to 

 receive us; the chancellor, the ministers, and high officers of 

 state, had all met us with that thoughtful courtesy and obliging 

 complaisance for which educated Russians are noted; and we were 

 furnished with the introductions whose importance we afterwards 

 realized. 



As far as Nijni-Novgorod we had enjoyed the modern con- 

 veniences of travel; thenceforward we were to learn how Russians 

 traverse distances of thousands of kilometres or versts, how they 

 travel in summer and in winter, by day and by night, in furious 

 storm and in smiling sunshine, in splashing rain, icy snow, and 

 dusty drought, in sledges and in wagons. Before us stood a 

 huge and massive travelling sledge, clamped at all its joints, with 

 broadly projecting stays to guard against overturning, with a hood 

 to shelter the travellers from rain and snow, and drawn by three 

 horses on whose yoke a little bell tinkled. 



On the 19th of March we began a rapid journey over the 

 frozen surface of the Volga, but it was not without its hindrances. 

 For a thaw had accompanied us from Germany to Russia, and had 

 warned us to hasten from St. Petersburg and Moscow, and a thaw 

 remained our constant companion, as if we were heralds of the 

 spring. Holes in the ice filled with water, warning us of the yawn- 

 ing depth beneath, drenched the horses, the sledge, and ourselves, or 

 forced us to make tiresome circuits; the cracking and groaning of 

 the ice made the danger seem worse than it really was, and both 

 drivers and postmasters became so anxious, that after a short 

 journey we were forced to exchange the smooth surface of ice for 

 the as yet unbeaten summer highway. But this highway, traversed 

 by thousands and thousands of freight wagons and by an equal 



