We had before us the entire North squadron
of the English fleet. Three lines of huge combat ships and many lines of
smaller ships were arranged in parallel in the harbour of Spithead and were
lost out toward the direction of Cowes. One hundred Fifty-three of them,
without counting the destroyers and the smaller ships, commanded by 28
admirals, who were receiving their crowned admiral, the Emperor of Russia.
Despite the rather strong winds, the
ships remained stationary as they were anchored fore and aft.
It was as if immense spindles had
been thrown by a powerful hand between the steel giants, ships formed into
links between them, at the same time picturesque and yet of an impressive
power. In front of this passed the yachts of the Sovereigns.
A
characteristic "hurrah", which was similar to our Russian
"hurrah", came to us from the ships also along with the sounds of the
Russian national anthem. Our sailors responded back at full voice. We passed
before ships each more and more impressive. We arrived before the right flank
where we found many Dreadnoughts, the pride of the British fleet. This type of
ship was at the time a novelty to us, as we did not yet have even one of this
class of ship. Seeming like gigantic and monstrous irons as we passed by, they
pressed down, so to speak, compressing the entire surface of the sea.
Passing before the Dreadnoughts, the
Rurik could not turn as required, could not "deploy" and failed to
hook up with one of the ships. It had to execute a manoeuvre which had the
effect to make the ship leave the line. It soon joined back up with the rest of
the squadron, at the same place it had occupied before the mishap.
The parade of ships lasted more than
an hour. Then at 5 o'clock, the yachts returned to their places and dropped
anchor, and one of the Dreadnoughts began to salute them with cannon shots. The
monster made an indescribable thunder. The Polar Star also dropped anchor.
Before us and to our left the entire surface of the sea was covered with yachts
and small boats of all kinds. A genuine forest of masts it was, with flags
flying from their tops. The tableau was less grandiose than the one in the
harbour of Spithead, but was more happy and gay.
.....
Their Majesties spent that day on
board the royal yacht. That evening was a dinner, during which there were many
proposals of official toasts. The Royal table was decorated with roses and was
resplendent with gold dishes. The suite and Captains of the yachts dined
separately, but were invited afterward to join with the circle around the
Sovereigns.
The King and the Emperor spoke in
their toasts of the Anglo-Russian friendship and of world peace.
The King observed that our Emperor
was no stranger to England in general, nor to Cowes in particular.
In his response, the Emperor admitted
to having been quite struck by the spectacle of the English Navy. He recalled
the past and said that he would never forget the happy days which had passed
fifteen years earlier under the reign of Queen Victoria.
....
The second day of their stay in English
waters passed, for Their Majesties, with less solemnity.
The weather was exquisite, clear,
warm. A soft breeze blew. In the morning they received several deputations,
among them a deputation from London, led by the Lord Mayor who gave Their
Majesties a magnificent gold coffret. Their Majesties then went on board the
royal sailing yacht, Brittania and left to attend the races. The day before,
the Emperor had been named an honorary member of the Royal Yacht Club and, as a
sportsman, he showed a great pleasure.
Their Majesties did not return to the
Standardt until six o'clock, after which they went to visit Empress Eugenie,
widow of Emperor Napoleon III, who was on board a private yacht. They stayed
with her for about one half hour.
.....
The Emperor gave permission for the
English journalists to visit the Standardt. Admiral Tchagyine received them
with his customary kindness. The journalists were happily surprised to find in
Their Majesties' salon were copies of the works of Shakespeare and other
English authors.
Our officers went ashore where they
were entertained by the English. Some of our men had even found the means to go
to London for several hours.
The only men of the Standardt who did
not go ashore were the Emperor, Tchagyine and Sabline. The Empress, to display
her appreciation, had each man given as a gift of one of solid gold jetons with
both the English and French flags, which they were selling in Cowes. That
evening on board the Standardt there was a ceremonial dinner, at the end of
which they were going to admire a magnificent tableau. As if by the stroke of a
magic wand, the entire English fleet was illuminated with electric lights
strung along the outlines of each ship. Under the dark blanket of night, the
giant ships seemed transformed to be bordered in silver along their contours.
As far as one could see into the distance these luminous spectres appeared
smaller and smaller, with the farthest seeming to be mere fine silver threads.
The colossal fleet, stationary and
sleeping, was a fairy tale vision.
When we awoke the next morning, the
fleet was no longer there. Silently, without anyone having noticed, they left
the harbour during the night. Only a true sailor can really appreciate the
virtuosity of such a manoeuvre.
That same morning, our squadron left the English waters and proceeded
back, with the Standardt in the lead, toward the Russian coast. The weather had
again become sombre. The barometer fell.
An article in today's Financial Times discusses Russia's refusal to implement tit-for-tat (as they are called) expulsions of diplomats after Obama announced that 37 Russian diplomats were to be sent home for alleged participation in the alleged plot to compromise the US presidential election last month. But there is a serious redundancy in the quotation from the expert who comments for the FT:
