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TENTH EDITION

fhtp_tt
HUMAN SEXUALITY
fhtp_st
Diversity in Contemporary Society

William L. Yarber
INDIANA UNIVERSITY

Barbara W. Sayad
CALIFORNIA STATE UNIVERSITY, MONTEREY BAY
HUMAN SEXUALITY: DIVERSITY IN CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY, TENTH EDITION
Published by McGraw-Hill Education, 2 Penn Plaza, New York, NY 10121. Copyright © 2019 by McGraw-Hill
Education. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. Previous editions © 2016, 2013, and
2010. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, or stored
in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education, including, but
not limited to, in any network or other electronic storage or transmission, or broadcast for distance learning.

Some ancillaries, including electronic and print components, may not be available to customers outside the
United States.

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 LWI 21 20 19 18
ISBN 978-1-260-39712-3 (bound edition)
MHID 1-260-39712-2 (bound edition)
ISBN 978-1-259-91105-7 (loose-leaf edition)
MHID 1-259-91105-5 (loose-leaf edition)

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Compositor: Lumina Datamatics, Inc.

All credits appearing on page or at the end of the book are considered to be an extension of the copyright page.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data


Names: Yarber, William L. (William Lee), 1943- author. | Sayad, Barbara Werner, 1949- author.
Title: Human sexuality: diversity in contemporary society / William L. Yarber, Barbara W. Sayad.
Description: Tenth Edition. | Dubuque, IA : McGraw-Hill Education, [2018] | Revised edition of the
authors’ Human sexuality : diversity in contemporary America, [2016]
Identifiers: LCCN 2018016806 | ISBN 9781260397123 (alk. paper)
Subjects: LCSH: Sex. | Sex customs. | Sexual health.
Classification: LCC HQ21 .S8126 2018 | DDC 306.7
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018016806

The Internet addresses listed in the text were accurate at the time of publication. The inclusion of a
website does not indicate an endorsement by the authors or McGraw-Hill Education, and McGraw-Hill
Education does not guarantee the accuracy of the information presented at these sites.

mheducation.com/highered
Dedication

This book is dedicated to Elton John, who created the Elton


John AIDS Foundation (EJAF) in the United States in 1992 and
in the United Kingdom in 1993. The EJAF was created to
respond to the need for philanthropic support to address the
global AIDS epidemic, to assure that all people living with HIV
have access to high-quality medical care and treatment, and to
address and reduce the stigma associated with HIV/AIDS. With
the vision and leadership of Elton and the generous support of
many friends and supporters, the two foundations have raised
over $400 million. EJAF raises funds for evidence-based
programs and advocates for policies that protect and
strengthen the health and rights of people affected by HIV/
AIDS. Further, the EJAF is the largest private funder of syringe
exchange programs in the United States, which are valuable in
efforts to end the opioid epidemic.

Elton had a special relationship with Ryan White and has said
that Ryan’s activism, compassion, and courage inspired him to
change his life—to stop abusing drugs and to do something to
honor Ryan and give purpose to his life. After seeking
treatment for his addiction, he created the Elton John AIDS
Foundation, one of the largest funders of HIV/AIDS programs in
the world. President Bill Clinton said “My friend Elton has
touched us all with his music and with the countless lives he
has saved through his AIDS foundation.”
—w. l. y.

To my family, especially Bob, who provide the inspiration,


patience, support, and love I need and appreciate to do this
work.
—b. w. s.

iii
Brief Contents
1 Perspectives on Human Sexuality 1

2 Studying Human Sexuality 25

3 Female Sexual Anatomy, Physiology, and Response 60

4 Male Sexual Anatomy, Physiology, and Response 91

5 Gender and Gender Roles 111

6 Sexuality in Childhood and Adolescence 142

7 Sexuality in Adulthood 167


8 Love and Communication in Intimate Relationships 192

9 Sexual Expression 223

10 Variations in Sexual Behavior 264

11 Contraception and Abortion 288

12 Conception, Pregnancy, and Childbirth 321

13 The Sexual Body in Health and Illness 351

14 Sexual Function Difficulties, Dissatisfaction, Enhancement, and Therapy 380

15 Sexually Transmitted Infections 421

16 HIV and AIDS 456

17 Sexual Assault and Sexual Misconduct 498

18 Sexually Explicit Materials, Sex Workers, and Sex Laws 537


McGraw-Hill Education Psychology APA Documentation Style Guide

iv
Contents
PREFACE xviii | LETTER FROM THE AUTHORS xxix |
ABOUT THE AUTHORS xxxi

1 Perspectives on Human Sexuality 1


STUDYING HUMAN SEXUALITY 2

SEXUALITY, POPULAR CULTURE, AND THE MEDIA 3


Media Portrayals of Sexuality 3
Television and Digital Media 6
Feature-Length Films 8
Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer People in Film and Television 8
Online Social Networks 9
■ Think About It ONLINE DATING: ASSET OR LIABILITY?
©Peopleimages/iStock/Getty Images
10

SEXUALITY ACROSS CULTURES AND TIMES 13


Sexual Interests 13
Sexual Orientation 15
Gender 16

SOCIETAL NORMS AND SEXUALITY 17


Natural Sexual Behavior 17
■ Think About It AM I NORMAL? 18
Normal Sexual Behavior 19
Sexual Behavior and Variations 20
■ Think About It DECLARATION OF SEXUAL RIGHTS 21

FINAL THOUGHTS 22 | SUMMARY 22 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 23 | SEX AND


THE INTERNET 23 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 23 | SUGGESTED READING 24

2 Studying Human Sexuality 25


SEX, ADVICE COLUMNISTS, AND POP PSYCHOLOGY 26
Information and Advice as Entertainment 27
The Use and Abuse of Research Findings 27
■ Think About It DOES SEX HAVE AN INHERENT MEANING? 28

THINKING OBJECTIVELY ABOUT SEXUALITY 29


Value Judgments Versus Objectivity 29
Opinions, Biases, and Stereotypes 30
Common Fallacies: Egocentric and Ethnocentric Thinking 31 ©Hero/Corbis/Glow Images

v
SEX RESEARCH METHODS 31
Research Concerns 32
Clinical Research 33
Survey Research 33
■ Practically Speaking ANSWERING A SEX RESEARCH QUESTIONNAIRE: MOTIVES FOR FEIGNING

ORGASMS SCALE 34
Observational Research 37
Experimental Research 37
■ Think About It A CONTINUED CHALLENGE FACING SEX RESEARCHERS: SELECTING THE BEST WAY TO

ACCURATELY MEASURE SEXUAL BEHAVIOR AND SEXUAL ORIENTATION 38

THE SEX RESEARCHERS 39


Richard von Krafft-Ebing 39
Sigmund Freud 40
Havelock Ellis 40
Alfred Kinsey 41
William Masters and Virginia Johnson 43

CONTEMPORARY RESEARCH STUDIES 43


The National Health and Social Life Survey 44
The National Survey of Family Growth 44
The Youth Risk Behavior Survey 45
■ Think About It SEX RESEARCH: A BENEFIT TO INDIVIDUALS AND SOCIETY OR A THREAT

TO MORALITY? 46
The National College Health Assessment 47
The National Survey of Sexual Health and Behavior 48

EMERGING RESEARCH PERSPECTIVES 49


Feminist Scholarship 49
Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender Research 50
Directions for Future Research 52

ETHNICITY AND SEXUALITY 52


African Americans 52
Latinos 54
Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders 55
Middle Eastern Americans 55

FINAL THOUGHTS 56 | SUMMARY 56 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 58 | SEX AND


THE INTERNET 58 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 58 | SUGGESTED READING 59

3 Female Sexual Anatomy, Physiology,


and Response 60
FEMALE SEX ORGANS: WHAT ARE THEY FOR? 61
External Structures (the Vulva) 62
■ Think About It THE GROOMING OF PUBIC HAIR: NUISANCE OR NOVELTY? 64

Internal Structures 65
■ Practically Speaking PERFORMING A GYNECOLOGICAL SELF-EXAMINATION 69

Other Structures 70
©Ingram Publishing/SuperStock
The Breasts 70

vi Contents
FEMALE SEXUAL PHYSIOLOGY 71
Sex Hormones 72
The Ovarian Cycle 73
The Menstrual Cycle 74
■ Practically Speaking VAGINAL AND MENSTRUAL WELL-BEING 79

HUMAN SEXUAL RESPONSE 80


Sexual Response Models 80
Desire and Arousal: Two Sides of the Same Coin? 83
■ Think About It FEMALE GENITAL MUTILATION/CUTTING: HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATION OR CULTURAL

AND SOCIAL NORM? 86

FEMALE SEXUAL RESPONSE 87


Sexual Excitement 87
Orgasm 87

FINAL THOUGHTS 88 | SUMMARY 88 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 89 | SEX AND


THE INTERNET 90 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 90 | SUGGESTED READING 90

4 Male Sexual Anatomy, Physiology,


and Response 91
MALE SEX ORGANS: WHAT ARE THEY FOR? 92
External Structures 92
Internal Structures 95
■ Think About It THE QUESTION OF MALE CIRCUMCISION 96
Other Structures 98

MALE SEXUAL PHYSIOLOGY 99


©Cultura RM/Moof/Getty Images
Sex Hormones 99
■ Think About It DOES PENIS SIZE MATTER? 100

■ Practically Speaking SEXUAL AND REPRODUCTIVE HEALTH CARE: WHAT DO MEN NEED? 102
Spermatogenesis 104
Semen Production 105
Homologous Organs 105

MALE SEXUAL RESPONSE 106


Erection 106
Ejaculation and Orgasm 107
■ Think About It MEN AND SEXUAL DESIRE: IT’S MORE COMPLEX THAN WE MIGHT THINK 108

FINAL THOUGHTS 109 | SUMMARY 109 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 110 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 110 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 110 | SUGGESTED READING 110

5 Gender and Gender Roles 111


STUDYING GENDER AND GENDER ROLES 113
Sex, Gender, and Gender Roles: What’s the Difference? 113
Sex and Gender Identity 114
Masculinity and Femininity: Opposites, Similar, or Blended? 115
■ Think About It SEXUAL FLUIDITY: WOMEN’S AND MEN’S VARIABLE SEXUAL ATTRACTIONS 117
Gender and Sexual Orientation 118

©Jeff Gross/Getty Images

Contents vii
GENDER-ROLE LEARNING 118
Theories of Socialization 118
Gender-Role Learning in Childhood and Adolescence 119
Gender Schemas: Exaggerating Differences 123

CONTEMPORARY GENDER ROLES AND SCRIPTS 123


Traditional Gender Roles and Scripts 123
Changing Gender Roles and Scripts 125

GENDER VARIATIONS 126


The Transgender Phenomenon 127
■ Practically Speaking A QUICK GLOSSARY ON SEX, GENDER, AND GENDER VARIATIONS 128

■ Think About It GENDER-CONFIRMING SURGERY: PSYCHOLOGICAL AND PHYSIOLOGICAL NEEDS 130


Gender Dysphoria 131
Disorders of Sex Development (DSD) 133
Unclassified Congenital Condition 136
Coming to Terms With Differences 136
■ Think About It TRANSGENDER PEOPLE AND BATHROOM ACCESS: WHAT’S THE DEAL? 137

FINAL THOUGHTS 139 | SUMMARY 139 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 140 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 140 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 140 | SUGGESTED READING 141

6 Sexuality in Childhood
and Adolescence 142
SEXUALITY IN INFANCY AND CHILDHOOD (AGES 0 TO 11) 143
Infancy and Sexual Response (Ages 0 to 2) 144
Childhood Sexuality (Ages 3 to 11) 144
The Family Context 146

SEXUALITY IN ADOLESCENCE (AGES 12 TO 19) 147


©WeAre/Shutterstock Psychosexual Development 147
Adolescent Sexual Behavior 155
■ Think About It VIRGINITY—WHATEVER THAT MEANS 157

Teenage Pregnancy 159


■ Think About It ”GOOD ENOUGH SEX”: THE WAY TO LIFETIME COUPLE SATISFACTION 160
Sexuality Education 162
■ Think About It HEALTHY TEEN SEXUALITY 164

FINAL THOUGHTS 165 | SUMMARY 165 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 165 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 166 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 166 | SUGGESTED READING 166

7 Sexuality in Adulthood 167


SEXUALITY IN EARLY ADULTHOOD 168
Developmental Concerns 168
Establishing Sexual Orientation and Identity 169
■ Think About It LIFE BEHAVIORS OF A SEXUALLY HEALTHY ADULT 170

Being Single 174


■ Think About It SINGLES IN AMERICA: DATING TRENDS, RITUALS, AND SOCIAL MEDIA 178

©Image Source/Getty Images

viii Contents
Cohabitation 179
Same-Sex Marriage 179

SEXUALITY IN MIDDLE ADULTHOOD 180


Developmental Concerns 180
Sexuality in Marriage and Established Relationships 180
■ Think About It ARE SAME-SEX COUPLES AND FAMILIES ANY DIFFERENT FROM

HETEROSEXUAL ONES? 182


Divorce and After 182

SEXUALITY IN LATE ADULTHOOD 184


Developmental Concerns 184
Stereotypes of Aging 185
Sexuality and Aging 185

FINAL THOUGHTS 190 | SUMMARY 190 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 191 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 191 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 191 | SUGGESTED READING 191

8 Love and Communication in Intimate


Relationships 192
FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE 194

LOVE AND SEXUALITY 195


Men, Women, Sex, and Love 195
Love Without Sex: Celibacy and Asexuality 197

HOW DO I LOVE THEE? APPROACHES AND ATTITUDES RELATED TO LOVE 197


Styles of Love 197 ©Andersen Ross/Getty Images
The Triangular Theory of Love 198
Love as Attachment 201
Unrequited Love 202

JEALOUSY 202
The Psychological Dimension of Jealousy 203
■ Think About It THE SCIENCE OF LOVE 204

Managing Jealousy 205


Extrarelational Sex 205
Rebound Sex 207

MAKING LOVE LAST: FROM PASSION TO INTIMACY 207

THE NATURE OF COMMUNICATION 208


The Cultural Context 208
The Social Context 209
The Psychological Context 209
Nonverbal Communication 209

SEXUAL COMMUNICATION 211


Sexual Communication in Beginning Relationships 211
Sexual Communication in Established Relationships 213
■ Think About It LET’S (NOT) TALK ABOUT SEX: AVOIDING THE DISCUSSION ABOUT PAST LOVERS 214

DEVELOPING COMMUNICATION SKILLS 214


Talking About Sex 214
■ Practically Speaking COMMUNICATION PATTERNS AND PARTNER SATISFACTION 216

Contents ix
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CONFLICT AND INTIMACY 217
Sexual Conflicts 218
■ Practically Speaking LESSONS FROM THE LOVE LAB 219
Conflict Resolution 219

FINAL THOUGHTS 220 | SUMMARY 220 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 221 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 221 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 222 | SUGGESTED READING 222

9 Sexual Expression 223


SEXUAL ATTRACTIVENESS 225
A Cross-Cultural Analysis 225
Evolutionary Mating Perspectives 227
■ Think About It WHY COLLEGE STUDENTS HAVE SEX 228

Hooking Up and College Students 232


■ Think About It ”HOOKING UP” AMONG COLLEGE STUDENTS: AS SIMPLE AS ONE MIGHT THINK? 234
Sexual Desire 235
©Tom Merton/Getty Images
SEXUAL SCRIPTS 236
Cultural Scripting 236
Intrapersonal Scripting 237
Interpersonal Scripting 237

AUTOEROTICISM 238
Sexual Fantasies and Dreams 239
Masturbation 241
■ Practically Speaking ASSESSING YOUR ATTITUDE TOWARD MASTURBATION 245

SEXUAL BEHAVIOR WITH OTHERS 246


Most Recent Partnered Sex 247
■ Think About It YOU WOULD SAY YOU “HAD SEX” IF YOU . . . 248

Frequency and Duration of Sex 249


Couple Sexual Styles 250
Touching 251
■ Think About It THE FREQUENCY OF SEX: THE MORE, THE BETTER? 252
Kissing 253
Oral-Genital Sex 254
■ Think About It THE FIRST KISS: A DEAL-BREAKER? 255

Sexual Intercourse 257


Anal Eroticism 260
Health Benefits of Sexual Activity 261

FINAL THOUGHTS 262 | SUMMARY 262 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 263 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 263 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 263 | SUGGESTED READING 263  

10 Variations in Sexual Behavior 264


SEXUAL VARIATIONS AND PARAPHILIC BEHAVIOR 265
What Are Sexual Variations? 265
What Is Paraphilia? 266
■ Think About It CLASSIFYING VARIANT SEXUAL BEHAVIORS AS PARAPHILIA: THE CHANGING VIEWS

OF PSYCHOLOGY 266

©Mark Wragg/Getty Images


x Contents
The Frequency of Paraphilia Behaviors and Desire 268
■ Think About It ”SEXUAL ADDICTION”: REPRESSIVE MORALITY IN A NEW GUISE? 269

TYPES OF PARAPHILIAS 272


Fetishism 272
Transvestism 273
Zoophilia 274
Voyeurism 275
■ Think About It WOULD YOU WATCH? COLLEGE STUDENTS AND VOYEURISM 276
Exhibitionism 277
Telephone Scatologia 278
Frotteurism 278
Necrophilia 279
Pedophilia 279
BDSM, Sexual Masochism, and Sexual Sadism 280

ORIGINS AND TREATMENT OF PARAPHILIAS 284

FINAL THOUGHTS 285 | SUMMARY 285 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 286 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 286 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 287 | SUGGESTED READING 287

11 Contraception and Abortion 288


RISK AND RESPONSIBILITY 289
Women, Men, and Contraception: Who Is Responsible? 290
Access to Contraception 291

METHODS OF CONTRACEPTION 292


Choosing a Method 293
Sexual Abstinence 295
Withdrawal (Coitus Interruptus) 295
Hormonal Methods 295 ©Rafe Swan/Cultura/Getty Images
Barrier Methods 300
■ Practically Speaking TIPS FOR EFFECTIVE CONDOM USE 302

■ Practically Speaking CORRECT CONDOM USE SELF-EFFICACY SCALE 303


Intrauterine Devices (IUDs) 306
Long-Acting Reversible Contraception (LARC) 307
Fertility Awareness–Based Methods 308
Lactational Amenorrhea Method (LAM) 309
Sterilization 309
Emergency Contraception (EC) 311

ABORTION 312
Methods of Abortion 312
Safety of Abortion 313
Women and Abortion 314
Men and Abortion 315
The Abortion Debate 315

RESEARCH ISSUES 316


■ Think About It RISKY BUSINESS: WHY COUPLES FAIL TO USE CONTRACEPTION 317

FINAL THOUGHTS 318 | SUMMARY 318 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 319 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 319 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 319 | SUGGESTED READING 320

Contents xi
12 Conception, Pregnancy, and Childbirth 321
FERTILIZATION AND FETAL DEVELOPMENT 323
The Fertilization Process 323
Development of the Conceptus 324

PREGNANCY 327
Preconception Health 327
Pregnancy Detection 327
Adjustments and Psychological Changes in Women During Pregnancy 328
Complications of Pregnancy and Dangers to the Fetus 329
■ Think About It SEXUAL BEHAVIOR DURING PREGNANCY 330

Diagnosing Fetal Abnormalities 335


Pregnancy Loss 336

INFERTILITY 338
Female Infertility 338
Male Infertility 338
Emotional Responses to Infertility 339
Infertility Treatment 339

GIVING BIRTH 341


©ballyscanlon/Getty Images
Labor and Delivery 341
Choices in Childbirth 343
■ Practically Speaking MAKING A BIRTH PLAN 345
Breastfeeding 346

POSTPARTUM AND BEYOND 346


■ Practically Speaking BREAST VERSUS BOTTLE: WHICH IS BETTER FOR YOU AND YOUR CHILD? 347

FINAL THOUGHTS 348 | SUMMARY 349 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 349 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 350 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 350 | SUGGESTED READING 350

13 The Sexual Body in Health and Illness 351


LIVING IN OUR BODIES: THE QUEST FOR PHYSICAL PERFECTION 352
Eating Disorders 353
■ Think About It BODY MODIFICATION: YOU’RE DOING WHAT, WHERE? 354

ALCOHOL, DRUGS, AND SEXUALITY 355


Alcohol Use and Sexuality 355
Other Drug Use and Sexuality 357

SEXUALITY AND DISABILITY 359


Physical Limitations and Changing Expectations 359
Vision and Hearing Impairment 361
Chronic Illness 361
Developmental Disabilities 362
The Sexual Rights of People With Disabilities 363

©Goodshoot/Getty Images SEXUALITY AND CANCER 363


Women and Cancer 364
Men and Cancer 370
Anal Cancer in Men and Women 374

xii Contents
ADDITIONAL SEXUAL HEALTH ISSUES 374
Toxic Shock Syndrome 374
Vulvodynia 375
Endometriosis 375
Prostatitis 375

SEXUAL ORIENTATION AND HEALTH 376

FINAL THOUGHTS 377 | SUMMARY 377 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 378 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 378 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 379 | SUGGESTED READING 379

14 Sexual Function Difficulties, Dissatisfaction,


Enhancement, and Therapy 380
SEXUAL FUNCTION DIFFICULTIES: DEFINITIONS, TYPES, AND PREVALENCE 382
Defining Sexual Function Difficulties: Different Perspectives 382
Prevalence and Cofactors 385
Disorders of Sexual Desire 389
■ Practically Speaking SEXUAL DESIRE: WHEN APPETITES DIFFER 390

Orgasmic Disorders 394


■ Think About It ORGASM, THAT SIMPLE? YOUNG ADULTS’ EXPERIENCES OF ORGASM AND SEXUAL

PLEASURE 396 ©Radius Images/Alamy Stock Photo


Sexual Pain Disorders 397
Substance/Medication-Induced Sexual Dysfunction 399
Other Disorders 399

PHYSICAL CAUSES OF SEXUAL FUNCTION DIFFICULTIES AND DISSATISFACTION 399


Physical Causes in Men 399
Physical Causes in Women 400

PSYCHOLOGICAL CAUSES OF SEXUAL FUNCTION DIFFICULTIES AND


DISSATISFACTION 400
Immediate Causes 400
Conflict Within the Self 401
Relationship Causes 402

SEXUAL FUNCTION ENHANCEMENT 402


Developing Self-Awareness 402
■ Practically Speaking KEGEL EXERCISES FOR WOMEN AND MEN 404

Intensifying Erotic Pleasure 405


■ Think About It MY PARTNER COULD BE A BETTER LOVER IF . . . : WHAT MEN AND WOMEN WANT

FROM THEIR SEXUAL PARTNERS 406


■ Think About It SEXUAL TURN-ONS AND TURN-OFFS: WHAT COLLEGE STUDENTS REPORT 409

TREATING SEXUAL FUNCTION DIFFICULTIES 409


Masters and Johnson: A Cognitive-Behavioral Approach 410
Kaplan: Psychosexual Therapy 412
Other Nonmedical Approaches 412
Medical Approaches 413
Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Sex Therapy 415
■ Practically Speaking SEEKING PROFESSIONAL ASSISTANCE 416

When Treatment Fails 416

FINAL THOUGHTS 417 | SUMMARY 417 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 419 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 419 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 419 | SUGGESTED READING 419

Contents xiii
15 Sexually Transmitted Infections 421
THE STI EPIDEMIC 422
STIs: The Most Common Reportable Infectious Diseases 423
Who Is Affected: Disparities Among Groups 424
Factors Contributing to the Spread of STIs 426
■ Practically Speaking PREVENTING STIs: THE ROLE OF MALE CONDOMS, FEMALE CONDOMS, AND

DENTAL DAMS 428


■ Think About It ACCURATELY JUDGING IF A POTENTIAL SEXUAL PARTNER IS INFECTED WITH AN STI:
©Peter Dazeley/Photographer’s Choice/
EASILY DONE? 430
Getty Images
■ Practically Speaking STI ATTITUDE SCALE 432
Consequences of STIs 433

PRINCIPAL BACTERIAL STIs 433


Chlamydia 433
Gonorrhea 436
Urinary Tract Infections 437
Syphilis 437

PRINCIPAL VIRAL STIs 439


HIV and AIDS 439
Genital Herpes 439
■ Think About It THE TUSKEGEE SYPHILIS STUDY: A TRAGEDY OF RACE AND MEDICINE 440
Genital Human Papillomavirus Infection 441
Viral Hepatitis 443
Zika 444

VAGINAL INFECTIONS 445


Bacterial Vaginosis 445
Genital Candidiasis 446
Trichomoniasis 446

OTHER STIs 447

ECTOPARASITIC INFESTATIONS 447


Scabies 447
Pubic Lice 448

STIs AND WOMEN 448


Pelvic Inflammatory Disease (PID) 448
Cervicitis 449
Cystitis 449

PREVENTING STIs 450


Avoiding STIs 450
Treating STIs 451
■ Practically Speaking SAFER AND UNSAFE SEX BEHAVIORS 452

FINAL THOUGHTS 453 | SUMMARY 453 | QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 454 | SEX AND
THE INTERNET 454 | SUGGESTED WEBSITES 455 | SUGGESTED READING 455

xiv Contents
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CHAPTER LIX
ACROSS THE ATLANTIC

In the beginning of June we started to Khabarovsk taking the


shortest way—via America—in order to visit the grand Exhibition that
was being held that year at Chicago.
We were met at Paris by Mr. Shaniawski, who had prepared rooms
for us at the Hôtel de Calais.
Paris was out of season and looked rather bare. We made a turn
in the Bois de Boulogne, which proved a desert. We only met a
middle-class wedding-party taking their traditional drive through the
park, and nurses in white butterfly-like caps with flowing ribbons,
wheeling perambulators and flirting with red-trousered soldiers.
On the following day we took the train to Havre, where we take
passage on the “Bourgogne,” a Transatlantic liner which is one of the
largest, fastest steamers plying between Europe and America. The
ship is equipped with baths, electric light and all modern
necessaries. We had one of the best cabins situated in the prow,
containing two berths, one above the other. I was to have the upper
berth and climbed into its narrow proportions by a ladder. In an
adjoining cabin I hear the Serebriakoffs stirring, and can chat with
them whilst lying in my berth above my husband, through tiny holes
cut in the wall for ventilation. The great difficulty that night was to
get anything to eat. There was no such thing as a piece of bread to
be had in the boat before starting, and we went supperless to bed,
having been obliged to wait a long time for the sanitary doctor, as no
one is allowed to land in New York without a bill of health.
12th June.—At six o’clock in the morning the steamer gave a long
whistle, announcing that the moment for starting had come. I
dressed rapidly, and hurried on deck. The ship was all alive and full
of the bustle of departure. Good-byes were said in haste, people
clung, wept and kissed. The gangway is lifted up, and we begin
slowly to move away. I watched the harbour of Havre grow smaller
and smaller, until it faded away in the horizon. Swinging in a deck-
chair I began to examine our travelling companions in whose
company we are going to live for ten days. More than half the first-
class passengers on our ship were Americans coming home; a great
many seemed to know each other. I studied the passenger list, and
saw that there were two Russians among them: an artillery Colonel,
who is sent on business to America, and an old man, aged eighty-
one, going to America to take part in a Volapuk Congress. We were
taking a great number of emigrants for America. They thronged the
foredeck, and crouched on the deck with their heads supported on
bundles. Women stood in groups with children in their arms, or
clinging to their hands and skirts. Things didn’t go well with the
emigrants in their old country. They crossed the ocean in search of
luck and fortune on the other side of the water, but what was the life
to which they were going forth on the steamer, taking them to an
unknown fate in an unknown land?
In the afternoon we passed Trouville and towards evening we
perceived the Isle of Wight with its two lighthouses pointing on the
horizon. The coast soon melted away in the distance. It was our last
good-bye to dear old Europe—and en route for the New World!
13th June.—I awoke in tears, having dreamt that I was saying
good-bye to the nearest and dearest that I had left in Russia. I am
miserable and home-sick, which is even more than being sea-sick. I
lay flat on my back staring at the ceiling in blank despair. If I had
wings I should have flown back to St. Petersburg!
The routine of steamer-life was eating, sleeping, resting in deck-
chairs and promenading on the deck. We are fed on board like cattle
destined for the slaughter-house. In the morning from nine to ten,
breakfast, consisting of broth, tea, coffee or chocolate, and porridge
—the first course at every breakfast; at one o’clock lunch, at six
dinner, and at nine tea. A waiter runs through the corridors, ringing
a huge bell before each repast. We had a separate table reserved for
us. The waiters on board, rigid and dignified, have the manners of a
secretary of an embassy; the waiter who serves at our table looks
less Olympian.
The barometer stood high all the time, nevertheless the ocean
tosses us pitilessly. Our steamer was rising and falling upon the long
Atlantic waves, and now came my first real experience of ocean
travelling. I was obliged to leave the table during dinner.
14th June.—Dr. Pokrovski made me go on deck this morning for a
little fresh air, and installed me comfortably in my deck chair, tucking
me up in my rug. When I came to look at my chair I saw that it had,
painted across the top my name in full. The temperature has
lowered considerably; white foam covers the surface of the ocean.
There is nothing in sight but a sail or two in the far distance.
Suddenly we heard the shriek of a siren and soon perceived a ship
coming towards us; it was a transatlantic vessel homeward bound.
Lucky beggar!
15th June.—We had unfavourable winds and stood anchored the
whole night, beaten by a boisterous sea. My head rolled on the
pillow, and I had to hold fast to the edge of my berth not to be
thrown out. Of course sleep was out of the question.
The deck to-day offers a lamentable spectacle. Sea-sickness,
which had spared the greater part of the passengers, took its
revenge now; nearly everybody was ill.
16th June.—The morning is grey and foggy. The siren had been
croaking at regular intervals all day. It is Sunday to-day. On the
upper-deck the emigrants sang prayers, after which the first-class
passengers tossed coins to their offspring. Down poured a shower of
small silver and copper, and little boys and girls scrambled to pick it
up.
In the afternoon the rolling of the ship increased, the wind
blowing steadily across the Atlantic, raised majestic swells. Our
steamer pitched and rolled like a walnut. The passengers stumbled
and slipped from their chairs and sprawled on all fours without any
dignity. I passed the greater part of the day in our cabin, and
climbed on deck just before dinner to call Sergy. We executed a pas-
de-deux in our common effort to meet; my feet suddenly went back,
while my body was travelling forward. I got my feet together at last,
and clung to the rail not to be swept overboard.
17th June.—We are surrounded again by a thick fog. The syren
was blowing all the time. We are in the season of icebergs floating
from the Arctic Ocean. About six o’clock in the morning the cabin-
steward rapped sharply at the door of our cabin, warning us that
there were icebergs in view. I hastened on deck, but the fog was so
dense that I couldn’t see two steps before me. Besides icebergs
there are sandbanks to be avoided in these parts, and the
steersman’s eye, accustomed to pierce sea-fogs, searched in the
darkness; he signalled an iceberg, but I strained my eyes uselessly,
when suddenly a gust of wind broke the mist, and we saw a huge
mass floating quite close to us.
Towards evening a passing ship signalled to us that there was a
great number of icebergs on the way. We were passing now a place
called “Devil’s Hole,” where all the winds meet. The sea was very
high and the Bourgogne shook and cracked as if it was going to fall
to pieces.
18th June.—Again the whole night the syren never ceased
blowing. At dawn I was wakened by a formidable noise. I heard
footsteps of men running down the deck and the captain’s voice
roaring out orders to the crew. It appeared that we were in
imminent danger, having nearly run into an iceberg three times the
size of our ship. If our captain had not been on the bridge at that
moment, we should all have perished.
The provisions on board are nearly out, the milk is watered to an
atrocious degree, and at breakfast I swallowed, with a grimace, a
cup of weak broth instead of tea or coffee. We are fed now on
mutton—mutton at luncheon, mutton at dinner. However good the
mutton is, one feels towards the end of the week that a change
should be welcome.
Every day we put our watches fifty minutes back, the time
therefore seems to wile away still longer.
19th June.—Seven pilots have left New York yesterday in fishing-
smacks to meet the Bourgogne. The pilot who would climb on board
first was to receive the sum of 200 dollars. The passengers held
wagers, and sweepstakes at five dollars each, had been started
among the first-class passengers. One of them gained the sum of
120 dollars on the pilot No. 5, whom we had picked up first. Other
pilots appeared after him, but they were told by signals that their
services were not required.
20th June.—The sea is very calm to-day, not a breath of air ripples
the surface of the ocean. Every morning the passengers look over
the map on which our route is marked by small flags. This morning I
was awfully happy to see that there was but a short distance left to
New York.
After lunch a slight breeze arose, swelling out the sails and making
us advance at the rate of twelve knots an hour. To-night the musical
talents of the passengers manifested themselves for the first time on
board. The commissaire played the flute and the second officer sang
love ditties. I remained till late on deck, admiring the sea lighted by
a magnificent moonshine. Suddenly I heard a shrill scream, and one
of the lady-passengers ran up to me in her night-gown, shouting for
help. It appeared that an enormous rat had been promenading over
her during her sleep.
21st June.—To-day the dinner was excellent; we had awfully good
things to eat and champagne gratis. The chef had surpassed himself
in tarts and all sorts of dainties in honour of our last night on board.
CHAPTER LX
NEW YORK

Towards midnight the American coast showed itself to view. In the


distance appeared a great multitude of twinkling lights. Our ship
fired rockets and burnt Bengal fires. Alike in steerage and first-class
saloon, pulses beat fast with joyous anticipation. On the after-deck
stood the emigrants full of hope and expectation; they sang hymns
and patriotic songs. I couldn’t help thinking of the day when they
will wake up to the unpleasant realities of Yankee life. The poor
wretches will not find the streets paved with gold.
Bedland Island showed itself afar off with its towering figure of
Liberty, the most wonderful statue I ever saw, a majestic giantess
holding a torch up to light the world. We saw the statue getting
bigger and bigger, and soon New York appeared as bright as day
with electricity: one mass of wonderful lights.
A new pilot came on board to take us into port. We advanced
cautiously amongst floating lighthouses and dropped anchor in
Hudson Bay near the quarantine office, in order to land in the
morning.
22nd June.—Sergy woke me at six o’clock and took me up on deck
to admire the grand sight of Hudson Bay, with picturesque villas
strewn along the banks, and menacing fortresses rising on green
hillocks. In the middle of the immense bay, battleships, merchant
vessels and yachts are anchored. A big ship, carrying only fishermen,
passes by going out into the open sea.
At seven o’clock sanitary and custom officers came on board and
stood on guard before the cabins. In this Land of Liberty there were
formalities without number to be gone through. Under the fire of
cross-examination we had to give our age, name and business, and
to explain how long we are going to stay and what was our object in
coming; and this is the Land of the Free!
Towards nine o’clock our steamer touched New York quay. We
were a long time in getting in and came at last to the broad
embankment. Not until eleven were we given permission to land on
American ground. A crowd was massed on the dock to welcome the
Bourgogne and her passengers. There was a wild waving of hands
and handkerchiefs on board. The moment had come to bid the ship
good-bye. Our fellow-passengers hurried to and fro, carrying off
their parcels. When all was in order, passengers’ papers looked
through and all the formalities over, the bustle of disembarkment
began. Friends are meeting each other, kisses, hearty greetings are
exchanged.
A row of all the letters of the alphabet are printed very large and
black on the wooden wall of the dock. When stepping from the ship
we were taken to the stall bearing our own letter “D.” The “D’s” men
were busy with our luggage, also dumped down under the letter “D.”
There was much shouting and general tumult. We were jolted
hither and thither by hordes of passengers with their bundles,
baskets, children and pet animals. I felt a little lost amid all this
bustle. Our Russian consul, Mr. Olarowski, was on the quay to meet
us. Thanks to him, a gallant official of the custom quickly marked
crosses on our luggage without opening it.
Everything was new to us in America. We saw a nurse holding in
her arms a baby in long clothes, about a year old, adorned with
rings and bracelets, who was placidly sucking his thumb and kicking
his feet with delight.
Mr. Shaniawski has been before in America, and his knowledge of
American customs was very useful to us. He took upon himself the
task of finding us a lodging. We went to an hotel called the
Clarendon, a sort of boarding-house, situated in the 18th street,
where big and small apartments are the same price, three dollars
and a half for each, including breakfast, lunch and dinner; there is a
bathroom to each room. The head waiter led us up the handsomely
carpeted stairs to our apartment. The room was pleasant and cool,
with pictures on the walls and a thick carpet.
We were just in time for an early lunch when we arrived at the
hotel. Fruit was served to us before the meal, which ended with
iced-tea. The American custom is having a vast number of small
dishes, each counting separately.
All the men in America are clean-shaven and have the appearance
of actors, and it seemed strange to me that one of the waiters who
served at table-d’hôte, wore a big moustache. A law had just been
promulgated forbidding the waiters in the restaurants to wear
moustaches, but they all declared that they would obey only if their
wages were increased. Having announced that ultimatum they left
their patrons, and had thus their own way. The servants in this
country are very highly paid, the waiters in our hotel received eighty
dollars a month. They believe in the social equality of all human
beings but do not seem to mind admitting that there is a class above
their’s. They just condescend to wait upon us, and think they can
demonstrate their equality by being as rude as possible. Dr.
Pokrovski asked a waiter to close the window during dinner, and that
uncivil man answered coolly: “Why don’t you do it yourself?” The
day of our arrival happened to be on a Sunday, and the servants
here are very scrupulous about keeping the Sabbath. Mrs.
Serebriakoff called the chambermaid to take away a broken glass,
and the girl, resenting the advent of visitors on a Sunday, replied
impertinently that she did not work on Sundays. It was also
impossible to have our boots cleaned at the hotel, and we had to go
into the street for that operation.
Our consul came to call upon us with his wife, a smart young
Californian with yellow locks, who looked like a pretty wax figure in a
show-window. She doesn’t speak a word of Russian, though her little
daughter, aged six, has had a Russian nurse since her very birth.
The Olarowskis took us to a music hall on the top of a ten-storied
house, lighted with different coloured lamps, from which you have a
bird’s-eye view of the great city. The lift carried us to the roof of the
big house, transformed into a garden. We entered a vast hall with a
glass roof. It was most interesting and quite without the feeling that
you might fall off.
Nearly all the houses in New York are twelve-storeyed, with
terrace roofs which serve sometimes as play-grounds for school
children. In the working quarters the municipality has organised
Roof-Gardens, where the poor people can breathe a purer air than in
their hovels. In Madison Square, one of the richest quarters of New
York, a sculptor has arranged a study on his roof, and in the next
house a sportsman has organised, at the height of ninety yards
above the pavement, a big dog-kennel where he breeds bull-dogs.
In Eighth’s Avenue a Protestant church with a belfry is perched on
the roof of an immense building. The houses here are all divided into
flats. In Broadway, the main street of New York, they are all built in
different styles and architecture, and in the next street, on the
contrary, the houses are all alike.
Next day we went to call on the Hollands, our Cairo friends, who
live at Windsor Hotel. We started down Fifth Avenue, a street lined
with solemn stately buildings with pillared porticoes, all of the self-
same pattern. The height of the houses amazed me, some of them
being from twenty to twenty-five stories high. The streets are mostly
numbered and run in rows. The life in the streets is tremendous.
There was an appalling thunder of trains rushing every minute above
our heads.
Finally we got to the Windsor Hotel which, like all the big hotels,
has its own telegraph and telephone offices, its milliner, hairdresser,
etc. We were told at the office that the Hollands had gone the day
before to Lake Mohawk. We sent a wire to tell them that we were
here, and started back to our hotel by the “Elevated,” an electric
suspended railway built upon iron struts above the houses, which
cuts through New York in all directions. It made abrupt turnings, and
rushed at a reckless pace over the roofs of the houses, or raced
through tunnels beneath them. It is great fun looking through other
people’s windows, and getting a peep into comedies and tragedies
sometimes. The train suddenly stops short with a jerk that sends the
passengers into a conglomerate struggling mass, and throws them
into each other’s arms. The train brought us to the hotel with a
flourish that precipitated me on the knees of my vis-a-vis, an odious
man with a red nose.
The Hollands had wired that they were coming over by the night
train, and early next morning they sent me a bandbox full of
beautiful red roses—so enormous, they looked like peonies—with a
note to ask us when we would receive them. The Hollands came to
call on us in the afternoon. To meet their kind faces again was
charming; the greetings between us were warm. I thought dear Mrs.
Holland would never leave off kissing me.
The Hollands offered to drive us in their landau through Central
Park. The beautiful weather had brought out all New York, driving,
riding, walking. We returned by a lovely place called the Riverside
Drive, a long road running along the banks of the Hudson, with
charming houses looking straight out on the river, and bordered by
trees on each side that spread their branches over us and made the
roadway shady. Between the trees the river glistened like a silver
ribbon.
On the 4th July, the day of the Anniversary of the Independence
of America, we were wakened in the morning by crackers and
rockets. In the afternoon the Hollands took us to Coney Island, a
fashionable watering-place situated a few miles out of town. We
took the tram to reach the port, and drove through streets bedecked
with flags. We took places on board the Taurus, a pleasure steamer
black with people going out for a boating picnic. The boat had a
holiday air about it. The passengers were all workmen with their
families, gay, noisy people all of them. On the stern a troupe of
Neapolitans danced the tarantella. Leaning on the railing we admired
the immense bay of New York, swarming with ships of different
nationalities, amidst which we saw our Bourgogne on the point of
leaving for Europe. From afar we heard the cannons saluting our
Russian cruiser, the Admiral Nakhimoff, which was entering the port
just then. The wind rose suddenly, and it took more than two hours
before we could land at Manhattan Beach. At last we succeeded in
dropping anchor. The boat was overcrowded, and all the people on
the deck made a rush towards the stern, making the ship incline on
one side, and I had to cling fast to Sergy’s arm not to be swept
overboard.
On landing we took the Elevated, which brought us in a few
minutes to Brighton Beach, a sea-side resort, the meeting-place for
members of fashionable high life. We walked along the sea-shore
and met ladies and gentlemen in bathing suits, and bare-legged
children with toy spades, playing merrily with sand and bright sea-
washed shells. We found ourselves soon in the midst of a large fair
with all sorts of show-tents of various shapes, displaying brilliant
banners, and queer little booths where you could get your fortune
told. The feast was in full swing. We looked at the many merry-go-
rounds, flying wooden horses, donkey races, etc. We mounted, for
fun, the flying horses, and had a good gallop. We walked for nearly
half-an-hour, exposed to the rays of the pitiless sun, in search of a
restaurant; we had eaten nothing since our breakfast and were
horribly hungry. Mr. Holland, who was completely ruled by his
imperious spouse, at times had rebellious fits; he wanted to dine in
one place, his wife in another, which made them both cross. He
wrangled for about a quarter-of-an-hour; I was a good deal flushed
and so weary that I could scarcely drag myself along. I wasn’t able
to bear the heat and the fatigue any longer and begged Mr. Holland,
who led the party, to take pity on us and pause to draw breath, but
he paid no attention whatever to my entreaties and pushed on
stubbornly, both hands in his pockets, panting like an engine and
mopping his forehead from time to time. There was nothing to do
but walk on with a sigh of submission. Mrs. Holland got her way in
the end, and announced, in a tone which didn’t suffer contradiction,
that she would enter the first hotel on our way. We stopped before
the porch of the Oriental Hotel, and were told by the porter that
there was a table d’hôte at the hotel, at which the lodgers only could
partake. We were ready to retreat, famished and awfully
disappointed, but Mrs. Holland, flying into a violent temper, forced
herself in, declaring authoritatively, “Here we are, and here we
remain!” and made her entrance into the hotel with the step and
mien of a woman perfectly determined to have her dinner. Whilst
she went to speak to the manager, we came into a large entrance
hall, where a long row of negro boys were ranged along the walls,
armed with cleaning brushes. They rushed at us and began to dust
our clothes. Mrs. Holland must have had a very persuasive way with
the head-waiter, for she returned triumphant. We had a very good
dinner to which we did ample honour, and were in no way bashful
about our appetites. Fortified by our meal, we soon recovered our
good spirits, and went by train to Brooklyn. We crossed East River to
New York on a ferry full of passengers, horses and carriages. The
ferry was sumptuous, the walls of the state cabin entirely of looking-
glass.
When we returned to our hotel we found the captain and two ship
officers of our cruiser the Admiral Nakhimoff who had come to invite
us, as well as all our companions, including the Hollands, to come
and take a cup of tea on board that night. Being awfully tired, I was
not fit for visitors just then, and as our guests settled themselves
into a comfortable position in their chairs, making no attempt to go
away, I went to my room under the pretext of a bad headache.
Oh! that “Nakhimoff!” I shall never forget the trouble that cruiser
gave us. All the way to the port I felt more dead than alive. The
streets were transformed into a veritable battle-field, crackers were
exploded under our horses’ feet, rockets were let off and guns fired
in the air for joy. The horses, taking fright, began to fidget and
prance. I heaved a sigh of relief when we reached the port. The
“Nakhimoff” had sent a boat rowed by fourteen sailors to fetch us.
We had already pushed off, when Mrs. Holland suggested that it was
dangerous to go on the water to-day, because the captains of the
numerous excursion boats must surely be drunk and would sink us
in no time. She frightened me out of my wits. I was desperately
afraid that our boat would be upset, especially when Mrs. Holland,
with a very red face, and an expression of desperate determination,
declared that she would jump overboard if we were not rowed back
to the shore immediately. “Tell them to go back! I shall go back!”
shouted the rebellious lady at the top of her voice. Our husbands
tried to persuade us that there was no danger whatever, but they
couldn’t bring us to reason. They landed us on the beach under the
charge of Mr. Shaniawski and were rowed back to the “Nakhimoff.” A
crowd of spectators, chiefly women, gathered round us and laughed
openly at us, bestowing various uncomplimentary remarks on our
cowardice. Awfully confused on being the laughing stock of the
place, we decided to cross to the “Nakhimoff” at any price, and were
so pleased to see the row-boat coming back to fetch us, in case we
had changed our minds, with two ship-officers this time. When we
stepped into the boat I became aware that the officer at the rudder,
who was intrusted to bring us safely on board, wore two pairs of
spectacles. He must surely be short-sighted! But come what may!
We pushed off and got to the “Nakhimoff” in ten minutes’ time,
somewhat confused, but awfully pleased to rejoin our husbands. The
cruiser had hoisted the Russian flag which made me feel all I don’t
know how, to look at it hanging there so far from home.
We were taking our tea in the mess-cabin when we heard the
sounds of a band striking up our anthem, and shouts of “Hip, hip,
hurrah!” We hastened upon the deck, and glancing eagerly in the
direction from where the welcome music came we saw an American
man-of-war passing before the “Nakhimoff” and saluting us thus
gallantly, which roused me to a high pitch of patriotic exaltation.
Night coming on, we had to hasten back on shore. The crew of the
“Nakhimoff” cheered us as we left her deck and the officers assisted
us down the ship’s ladder. We reached the coast all right. All is well
that ends well!
The next day the papers said that there were about 200 persons
killed in the streets of New York and more than 2,000 wounded
during the national festivities, and that the rockets had set on fire a
great number of houses. We have had a narrow escape, I must say!
New York is full of Russian anarchists. Quite recently a Russian
general, Seliverstoff, has been assassinated by one of them. They
managed to lay hands on his murderer, whose beard and
moustaches are kept by Mr. Olarowski. Oh, the horror!
On the very morning when we read our names in the list of the
arrivals at the “Clarendon,” Sergy gave audience to a suspicious-
looking compatriot of ours, who had come expressly to ask my
husband’s opinion upon the treaty between Russia and America,
concerning the terms on which both countries had to deliver up their
respective criminals.
The newspapers were full of us. Our hotel was besieged by
reporters waiting in the ante-room for hours to have a word from us.
The Harper’s Magazine asks for our photographs, and a type-writing
machine office proposes to issue 250 correspondences concerning
my husband. We received a lot of letters from autograph-hunters.
Mrs. Vanderbilt, one of the richest women in America, wrote to
Sergy requesting his autograph in order that she might add it to her
collection of celebrities.
Glancing this morning over an illustrated paper, in the middle of
the column I saw our faces, but couldn’t believe they were really
there, in an American paper. I began to think I wasn’t awake yet. I
am sure it is the Hollands who have given our photos to the papers,
for we are carried about as a show by them. Under our pictures the
magazine has printed our biography, with a number of ridiculous
stories concerning us. There was a whole sheet with dark hints as to
our private lives, every syllable false. My husband, according to the
press, was an oppressor of the people, little better than “Nero,” and
Colonel Serebriakoff, who was not able to hurt a fly, is also said to
be noted for his cruelty. How do such revolting things get into
papers? It is too ridiculous, but I didn’t laugh, I was too angry. The
imaginative reporters described me as a Princess with Imperial blood
in her veins, endowed with no end of beauty and money, and Mr.
Shaniawski as a world-known traveller and explorer. Stupid fellows!
The Hollands are living all the year round at the “Windsor,” where
they keep a splendid apartment, like a great number of Americans,
who live in hotels to avoid the bother of servants and housekeeping.
The Hollands had us to dinner at the “Windsor,” and Mrs. Holland
wanted me to look my best in order to make the conquest of the
paper-reporters, who take their meals at the “Windsor.” She insisted
that I should wear my prettiest dress, but I didn’t take any pains to
impress the journalists, and put on my walking costume. I wish the
Hollands wouldn’t put me forward always!
Dinner was at half-past seven. Mr. Holland took me down to the
dining-room, a large hall brilliantly illuminated and filled with
gentlemen in full dress and bare-shouldered ladies. We made our
way to the prettily spread table reserved for us, decorated with
bunches of roses. Both Mrs. Holland and Mrs. Olarowski had put on
their finest dresses. Of all those present I was the only one to
appear in a wrong toilet. My modest frock seemed rather out of
place amidst the gorgeous plumes of the other ladies, and Mrs.
Holland’s eyes swept over me disapprovingly. Nevertheless, I was a
great deal stared at and much annoyed, for I felt I was being made
a show of, and exhibited as one would exhibit a giant or a dwarf.
We meant to spend a fortnight in New York, but had to leave the
city much sooner. When I came down to breakfast one morning, I
perceived immediately that something unpleasant had happened. All
my companions seemed very preoccupied and gloomy, and ate their
breakfasts in silence. After our meal I began turning over the leaves
of a daily paper which happened to be on the table close to my
hand, and saw an article which made my blood run cold. It ran thus:
“Siberia’s Governor-General on a visit here—in imminent danger!”
And then I was told that the manager of our hotel had thought fit to
warn my husband of the danger to which we were exposed. He had
received an anonymous letter that morning, signed A Victim of
Siberia, in which he was threatened that his hotel would be blown
up for having sheltered us. Further on the letter ran thus: There is
now stopping at your hotel a man who is the sworn enemy of
thousands of persecuted men and women in far distant Siberia. He
has very recently been appointed to the governor-generalship of that
accursed spot, but he is a marked man by men of my belief in this
country, the Mecca of all, the land of the free. I write this to warn
you of a plot to destroy Doukhovskoy, who will now go to rule over
the victims of the Tzar in Siberia. But I feel it my duty to warn you to
be on your guard against certain members of an organisation of
which I am a member. This letter was sent to the superintendent of
the police and he has no doubt made preparations to prevent any
attempt at assassination, or at any rate to arrest the assassin, which
may not be much comfort to us if there really be a plot. Sergy,
however, was not to be frightened easily, but of course I was
horribly frightened. What woman would not have been? Another
morning paper announced: General Doukhovskoy will be
assassinated with his wife and suite. In any case he wouldn’t be
allowed to reach Siberia, where he is appointed general-governor to
martyrise the people. And though the New York Herald had printed
in big black letters a headline six inches tall: General Doukhovskoy is
safe, we felt ourselves condemned to death.
The first thing to be done was to get away from New York and
take the afternoon train to Chicago. I packed in haste and spent a
frantic half-hour in thrusting my things in my trunk. The Hollands
had invited us to share their box with them at the opera that night,
and had announced it in the papers. We telephoned to them that we
were obliged to leave New York quite unexpectedly, having been
called to Khabarovsk by wire. We also telegraphed to an American
lady, who had invited us to visit at her house in Philadelphia, that we
were leaving for Boston, in order that they couldn’t get on our track.
My husband acceded to my entreaties that for the rest of our
journey through America we would not be “The Governor-General
and his wife,” but a plain party of tourists. After my fright I will enjoy
it all, particularly because I could see everything I wanted to see,
and that I could not have done if we were pointed out here and
there as “The Governor-General and his wife.” And thus Sergy
changed his name and sent away his luggage; we will travel across
the Continent incognito.
We got hastily into a tram to be driven to the railway station, but
we were not destined to go off unobserved. A very unprepossessing-
looking individual, with long hair and spectacles, sprang on the steps
of the tram and asked Mr. Shaniavski, in very bad English, if General
Doukhovskoy was leaving New York for good, Mr. Shaniavski
stopping him from entering the car, answered that he knew nothing
about General Doukhovskoy. At that very moment the tramway
started and we were delivered from the obtrusive spy. At the
railway-station Mrs. Serebriakoff and I didn’t permit our husbands to
leave our sides, and struggled hard to seem unconcerned,
mistrusting all the passengers.
CHAPTER LXI
NIAGARA FALLS

The way is long from New York to San Francisco. We have to pass
the Continent from East to West, making about 5000 miles. It took
thirty-five days to make that journey before the railway was built.
We will touch Niagara on our way to Chicago, and will continue the
journey the same day by a later train. To leave America without
seeing the Falls of Niagara was impossible.
The train rattled out of New York and crossed the Harlem. We
skirted that pretty little river and ran over the prairies. We travel in a
splendid “Wagner Express,” a rival to “Pullman’s Express.” All the
cars are first-class; it is only the so-named “Colonist trains” which
are second-class. Our saloon-car had no compartments in it, there
was just one wide corridor with velvet armchairs dotted about. In
front of our engine a kind of giant spade is fastened to clear the line
from droves of cattle and other encumbrances. A huge bell keeps
ringing all the time for the same purpose.
Towards night we removed to the sleeping-car, fitted up with a
long double file of two-storeyed bunks, the rows separated by a
green calico partition. The railway conductors are shiny black
negroes, surnamed “Johnny,” all of them. Our Johnny, a most jolly-
looking nigger, in white livery, was very talkative, his tongue went
like an express train. He plied us with questions and cross-examined
us about where we came from, where we were going to. Wasn’t he
also a spy? At all events we did not reveal our destination. We
pretended we were going no further than Niagara. In the night
Mme. Beurgier went to drink a glass of water, and when she crawled
in, in the dark, she couldn’t find out her sleeping-berth, and got into
Johnny’s couch. When her hands touched the darkie’s slippery face,
she thought she had touched a frog, and throwing herself back, she
bumped her face against the boards, at which her forehead instantly
developed a bump of many colours.
The jingle of the breakfast bell and Johnny’s piercing voice
shouting “First call for breakfast,” awakened me in the morning. I
had to crouch up and dress on my berth, and succeeded in putting
on my frock in a series of contortions. The Americans are very
unceremonious people; peeping through the curtain of my division, I
saw unattractive-looking bare legs underneath. All the passengers
assembled in the saloon to drink coffee, which was brought in by
Johnny and tasted very nasty.
We pass the towns of Rochester and Albion, and are speeding
along the wooded banks of Niagara River. The opposite bank is
Canada, a territory belonging to England. Johnny began cleaning
manipulations over our clothes, proceeding with bold strikes of his
brush, as if he were grooming a horse. Then he took off Sergy’s hat
unceremoniously, gave a vigorously brushing to it, and clapped it
upon his head again. After that he made a dash at my hat, but
without success, I having jumped back in time.
Here we are at “Niagara Village,” an agglomeration of splendid
hotels. The next train left at 9-15, and we had plenty of time to
spare. We made our way to “Hôtel National,” as we had no porters
to carry our things, we had to do it ourselves. We passed before a
negro boy perched on a high seat, motionless like a black statue,
sticking out both feet adorned with boots shining like twin stars. We
were told that the black statue was a boot-boy serving as
advertisement to a patent shoe cream.
At the entrance hall of the “National” we found negroes with
brushes who made dusting attacks at our clothes.
We are just in time for luncheon. The big hall was filled with
tourists who had come to see the Falls, the great wonder of the
world. We were served by a staff of waiters, negroes of blackest
ebony, the head waiter wore a flower in his buttonhole, and looked
awfully smart. During luncheon a pianist played to the
accompaniment of an orchestra. After lunch we stretched ourselves
comfortably in rocking-chairs on the veranda, looking out into a
shady park, and after a good rest, we took a carriage and drove to
Goat Island to see the Falls.
Niagara, in the Indian language, means “Thundering Waters,” and
in fact, from afar the thunder of the Niagara filled the air. We
wandered away in the direction of the huge roar. As we advanced
the sound became sharper and we had to shout to make ourselves
heard above the noise of the cataract. At length we came face to
face with the Falls. The sight of the foaming rapids fringed by
splendid trees, was awfully grand. Rainbows are reflected in the
water. The tumult of the Falls which attained the height of seventy
yards, broke in clouds of spray against the rocks. It was well worth
travelling all the way to see. Here and there we saw inscriptions:
“Don’t venture in dangerous places!” Leaning over the Falls, I felt
very small and strangely attracted by its foaming wonderful sheet of
water, just the same as I did whilst standing on Mount Vesuvius, on
the very brink of the crater. In a part of the park called “The Cape of
the Winds,” where the Falls have the form of a horse-shoe, we met a
party of audacious tourists, enveloped in yellow mackintoshes, who
were slowly groping their way along a narrow bridge thrown across
the cataract; underneath, the Niagara rolled gigantic and majestic in
a vast flood. After having rested for a little while on the grass,
discoursing about the beauty of the wonderful water-fall, we
returned to the hotel just in time for dinner. After the repast, all my
companions went out for a sail on the Niagara River; as for me, I
had quite enough of thrilling sensations for that day and pleaded a
headache as an excuse for remaining within. They went underneath
the Falls in oilskin coats and caps, supplied by the hotel, after which
they descended in a lift, and then walked along passages scooped
out of the rock, until they were underneath the Falls, which poured
over in front of them like a curtain, and then reached a steamboat
called “The Maid of the Mist.”
When my indefatigable companions returned, we walked across
the park to Canada “abroad,” as they call it here, and crossed the
river by a suspended bridge joining Canada to the United States. We
had to pay 25 cents each to cross the Suspension Bridge, which
seemed to hang over the water. This bridge had recently collapsed
and was now built again.
Whilst our companions explored Canada, I entered with Mrs.
Serebriakoff, a white farm-house with green shutters, entirely
covered with creeping plants, which announced in large white letters
“New Milk,” where we regaled ourselves with strawberries and
cream.
We were back to the hotel towards sunset and walked to the
station laden with our bags and umbrellas, where we arrived just as
the train was about to start.
This time our sleeping berths were still more uncomfortable,
arranged behind the partition for two persons on one bunk. This is
all very well for married couples but is it not particularly cosy for
strangers of different sexes to lie down all night side by side. This lot
befell Mme. Beurgier; her berth-mate turned out to be Mr.
Koulomsine, who after long parleys succeeded in finding a sleeping
berth in the next car.
I slept badly that night and got up very early. We had luncheon in
the restaurant-car about a quarter of a mile away from us in the
train. Pretty girls waited on us while in continual chorus came from
them: “Steaks, chops, ham and eggs, pie or pudding!” After the
repast the waitresses distributed small bouquets to the lady
passengers, and dining-car advertisements to the gentlemen.
CHAPTER LXII
CHICAGO

Towards five o’clock Michigan Lake came into view and spread
before us as broad as the sea, with tides coming in and going out,
and steamships gliding on the blue water. At the last station before
Chicago a boy came into the car piled up to his head with
advertisements, which he scattered over us; he was followed by a
man with a metal placard on his chest, who thrust into our hands a
card setting forth the virtues of Savoie Hotel, and promised to
occupy himself with our luggage. Most of the passengers left the
train at Hyde Park, the first stoppage at Chicago, but we pushed on
to Central Station. Over the city hung a sky laden with smoke;
everywhere black chimneys rose in the air.
Savoie Hotel is situated on the European place, the liveliest
quarter of Chicago. We took an apartment in the second storey, for 2
dollars ahead, with board and lodging.
Desirous to keep the strictest incognito, we registered our names
in the hotel-book, “Mr. and Mrs. Sergius,” for fear of spies. Dr.
Pokrovski took the name of “Castorio,” which suited his profession
admirably.
Our four days’ stay at Chicago seemed very short to me. Every
morning we went to visit Chicago’s World Fair. The exhibition
commemorated the fourth century of the discovery of America by
Christopher Columbus. The day was Sunday. A holiday crowd pushed
and elbowed about the various attractions, middle-class people for
the most part, and negro beauties and dandies. We walked through
the sections of the Exhibition, where nearly all the exhibited objects
are provided with the curt warning: “Hands off!” The Americans in
general, do not shine for their politeness! Whilst standing before a
show-window, a policeman approached us and asked what nation
we belonged to. We said we were a company of French tourists who
had come to see the World’s Fair.
Midway Pleasance is the most animated part of the Exhibition. We
entered a theatre where a Japanese play was going on. The actors’
faces were covered with terrifying masks, and they were all making
atrocious grimaces. After the play a troup of native musicians, sitting
on the floor, played “Yankee Doodle” and “God save the Queen” on
their national instruments. The spectators in the first row took off
their coats and remained in their shirt sleeves without ceremony.
Close to the Japanese theatre the Esquimaux performed marvels in
the way of throwing lances through rings. They invited the passers-
by to enter their enclosure and compete with them in a curious
sport, consisting in breaking big sticks into small bits by the means
of a long whip. The Esquimaux came from Greenland; they are
American subjects but do not speak English, they can say only: “Give
money!”
On the quay where stands the monument of Christopher
Columbus, the largest elevator in the whole world brought us in the
space of one minute, on the roof of the “Liberal Arts,” where we
visited a beautiful picture gallery containing the works of the most
renowned painters of different countries. The Russian pictures
occupy the first place, but our manufactory section is very poorly
represented. In one of the pavilions of the United States we saw
vegetables and fruit piled about in profusion. The fruit of California is
three times larger than in any other country; tempting-looking
apples and pears, coming from Los Angeles, were enormous in
proportion, but quite tasteless.
Foreign artists are greatly appreciated in America, and very highly
paid. When walking through the musical section we were agreeably
surprised to hear a first-class artiste play one of Chopin’s nocturnes
in a masterly manner, with a faultless technique and a perfect
phrasing.
“Beauties” brought over from all parts of the world black, white
and yellow, are exposed in a large hall, in stalls behind a railing, just
like wild beasts. One of the prettiest girls, dressed in our Russian
national costume, appeared to be a Polish Jewess, who had taken
the first prize in a recent “Beauty Competition.”
A picture of “Nana,” the heroine of Zola’s last novel, painted by
Soukharowski (a Russian painter), is exhibited in Chicago, and much
is made of that canvas.
We went to see a Museum of wax-figures, and saw among other
curiosities, a big giant and a negress dwarf with no arms, who
played the drum with her toes, and wrote her autograph holding a
pen between her toes. Next to her a pretty white-skinned dwarf
resembling a pretty wax-doll, attired in a beautiful evening dress,
was exhibited, who looked with disdain, mixed with jealousy, at her
dusky companion who attracted more attention than her dainty little
person. In the adjoining room a gipsy fortune-teller told people’s
future through examination of the palms of their hands. I wanted my
hand read and asked Mr. Shaniavski to accompany me to her booth.
From the very beginning the old gipsy woman made formidable
mistakes, taking Mr. Shaniavski for my husband. Nevertheless she
predicted a lot of charming things to me, and I left her booth with a
smiling face. After dinner we went to a Venetian Feast organised on
the central basin of Michigan Lake, which was transformed into a
Venetian canal. Gondolas floated on the lake, lit up by Chinese
lanterns.
Chicago is a dirty, noisy commercial town, and looks a
tremendously busy place. The smoke of the factories blacken the
sky; the soot stains the sparrows, making them look quite black. We
walked through the broad, straight streets of the Great Grey City,
stopping before the shop windows. We saw a shop bearing the
inscription “Food and dog’s medicine.” In a hair-dressing shop a
woman was sitting on a high seat with her back to the window with
wonderfully splendid hair falling down to the ground. We entered the
shop to see if the woman’s face corresponded to her beautiful
golden hair, but, alas, she appeared to be very unattractive. Her hair
served as advertisement for a patent elixir to make the hair grow.
How people have sometimes to earn their bread and butter.
The heat is intense. Everybody grumbled at the weather being so
hot. The head-porter of our hotel, who is a grand personage, too
languid to talk, in order not to be obliged to answer a hundred times
a day to the same complaint of the visitors about the heat, “Awfully
hot, isn’t it?” stuck a placard over the entrance door saying, “Yes, it
is very warm to-day!”
Mme. Beurgier couldn’t sleep for the heat, and went one night for
a stroll on the outskirts of Michigan Common. She saw heaps of rags
here and there on the grass; she touched one of them with her foot,
and oh, what a jump she gave when from the rags strange and
somewhat terrifying sounds proceeded, that indicated a drunken
sleep. It appeared that the whole place swarmed with houseless
vagrants, evidently prepared to camp out-of-doors till morning.
During our four days’ stay at Chicago there had been three awful
accidents at the Exhibition. First: A collision between two
steamboats on the lake. We were crossing the bridge at that
moment and saw a man extracted from the water with broken legs.
Second: A terrible fire had broken out in the very centre of the
Exhibition. An immense building was burnt to the ground. Dr.
Pokrovski saw people jumping down from the eighteenth storey and
killed on the spot. Third: A captive-balloon had burst, causing the
death of all the passengers.
2nd July.—We left Chicago this morning. Our train rolls rapidly
towards San Francisco. We have six days of railway. The
temperature being very hot, everyone put himself at his ease; my
travelling-companions also took off their coats—American fashion.
We drink iced-water the whole day to refresh ourselves. Our
“Johnny” lay full stretched on the sofa in the private saloon; Mme.
Beurgier tried to make him take a more correct attitude, but to make
remarks to the darkie was as fruitless as to sponge his nigger face
white. He paid no attention whatever to her reproofs and continued
his dolce far niente, munching an apple with beautiful white teeth.
Our train rolls on full speed. We are tossed about as on the sea.
“Johnny” came to make our beds early in the evening. We had to lie
down directly, for when the beds were made, there was no place to
sit down.
3rd July.—The railway line is uninteresting and monotonous and
the heat something dreadful. At five o’clock dinner was served in the
restaurant-car, consisting of broth and roast beef surrounded by
slices of oranges.
4th July.—We crossed the Mississippi in the night, and are rolling
through fields of Indian wheat and beetroot. The heat has still
increased and our car is like an overheated stove; the dust entering
through the windows transformed us into chimney-sweeps.
We cross now the States of Nebraska and Wyoming. The villages
and towns are all illuminated with electricity. We read now and then
the word “Saloon” gambling house written on the front of the
houses. I have remarked that at the railway-stations nearly all the
doors bear the inscription “Entrance forbidden.” It is curious how
many things are forbidden in this “Free Country!” It is also very odd
that the carriage-roads are not closed before the passage of trains;
there is only an inscription on wooden poles “Look out for the cars!”
5th July.—I woke up in the night shivering with cold. The train was
rolling through the states of Utah, across the Great American Desert.
The country is bare and dull, and very poorly peopled; not a tree or
a blade of grass is to be seen. The great want in the place is water.
A chain of snow peaks appeared on the horizon. We are crossing the
Cordilleras mountains and find ourselves at eight thousand feet
above the level of the sea. Soon after lunch the Valley of Salt Lake
spread before us. Our train runs amid green pastures. We pass little
hamlets and orchards, which seem very green and beautiful to me
after the long weary stretches of the desert we had just left.
Thatched ranches (farms) and bungalows peeped from beneath the
trees. We are in the legendary “Far West.” Here is a long haired Red
Indian, from Cooper’s Books, galloping on the road on a small lean
pony, followed by a cow-boy wearing a broad-brimmed hat. It only
wants “Buffalo-Bill” in person to complete the picture. Whilst
stopping at a station we saw a young Indian “squaw” (woman),
sitting cross-legged on the platform, wrapped up in a red blanket,
carrying on her back her papoos (baby), lashed up in its hammock.
American travellers ought to be accustomed to Red-Indians,
nevertheless they surveyed with great interest the young savage
female, who showed her nursling to them for the sum of 15 cents.
She refused outright to show her “papoos” to a passenger who
offered only five cents to her. The local colour begins to disappear in
the “Far West,” the Red-Indians throw off their plumes and deer-
skins for a flannel shirt and a felt hat. They were plentiful enough
about here some years ago, but the railroad, with its settlements has
swept them back. The railway-line was being built during five years,
the Red-Indians destroying it continually. In the olden days, a touch
of adventure was lent to the journey by the fear of an attack from
hostile Indians. We are told that even now there is danger on the
line from Indian bandits. Our train passes with illuminated
“Pullmans” in the centre of the plains, and my imagination getting
the better of me, I seem to see our train on that lone prairie,
surrounded by Red Indians. When I went to sleep, visions of fighting
savages woke me up with a suppressed scream, as I fancied I was
being scalped, and I find that it is only the shriek of the locomotive,
and the war-whoop of the Indians are only the outcries of our pacific
“Johnny” announcing that we were approaching Salt Lake City. The
capital of the Mormons’ State is surrounded by an amphitheatre of
hills, over which the Mormons’ Hierarchy still dominates. In 1890,
Welford Woodruff, the President of the Mormon Church, received, it
is said, a revelation from God, commanding that all Mormons should
give up their plural wives, and they are satisfied now with one
consort.
We are in a long, narrow pass: above us hang abrupt rocks and
below flows a serpentine river. Our train makes right angle turns,
and it seems as if we were turning all the time on the same spot.
Towards night we entered the States of Sierra Nevada; we are now
at only a day’s journey from Mexico. The towns, rivers and
mountains have Mexican names. A Mexican pedlar selling curios and
silver filigree jewellery, entered our car. Sergy bought me a finely
worked brooch in the form of a mandoline. We enter a narrow
wooden tunnel built to protect the line from stone avalanches, which
took a whole hour to go through.
6th July.—At dawn we speeded through the ranches of California,
and soon approached the town of Sacramento. Our train dashes now
on its way to the Pacific. We felt already the sea breeze, and soon
appeared the Gulf of San Francisco and the waters of the Pacific
Ocean. Our train was pushed by workmen along an artificial dike to
the station of Bonifacio, after which we rolled towards Oakland,
where our train after having been divided in three parts, was put on
a ferry. When we touched the other shore the train was made up
again, and took us straight to San Francisco.
CHAPTER LXIII
SAN FRANCISCO

We were surrounded at the railway station by a crowd of Negroes,


Japs and Chinamen. We drove to the Lyndhurst, a small hotel in
Geary Street, where Mr. Shaniavski had secured apartments for us.
Nothing was said to the hotel management concerning us, beyond
the fact that we were foreign tourists who did not care to go to a
large hotel. Our rooms were engaged for a week and paid for in
advance.
San Francisco, the Queen of the Pacific, and the glory of the
Eastern coast, is a rich and populous city about one hundred years
old. After lunch we went out to explore the place. There are but few
cabs in the streets, everyone takes the tram or the cable road; the
way in which it climbs the steepest hills is wonderful. We took the
cable road to Golden Gate Park, which is very beautiful indeed.
Buffaloes graze on the green lawns and strange birds flash among
the boughs. I thought that a beetle had settled upon my hat and
when I blew it off, it appeared to be a butterfly of fantastical
appearance, the size of a bird. In the part of the park called the
Children’s Garden, all kinds of games and amusements are
organised. We saw saddle-horses not bigger than foundland dogs,
and baby-coaches drawn by white sheep. We had tea in the
Children’s Restaurant, where gentlemen are admitted only when
accompanied by their families.
On leaving the park we rode out to the Presidio, a military ground
with big cannon pointing menacingly on to the Pacific Ocean. We
stood with the rest of the crowd to see the President of the United
States, who had come down from San Raphaelo, a fashionable sea-
bathing place, to review four batteries of artillery, two light-batteries
of field pieces and a troop of cavalry. After which the gentlemen of
our party went for a stroll through the Chinese part of the town to
Cliff House where seals are reared; these animals come in hundreds
to bask in the sun at a few steps only from the cliffs. We ladies
preferred to go out shopping. We lingered before the windows of
entrancing shops, and listened to an orchestra playing in a music-
shop to attract purchasers.
The climate here is perfect, one doesn’t suffer at all from the heat,
in summer and winter the temperature is nearly always the same. I
was very much astonished, however, to see ladies enveloped in furs
in July.
We managed to keep up our incognito at the Lyndhurst, and
attracted no special attention until after the publication in the
Examiner of a statement, that “General Doukhovskoy was supposed
to have reached San Francisco travelling incognito.” After that it was
noticed that “The middle-aged gentleman who appeared to be the
leader of the party, but whose name was registered in the books of
the hotel as ‘Mr. Sergius,’ didn’t go out as frequently as at first.”
Another San Francisco paper reproduced our portraits, after which
Sergy told me to wear my hat when I went down to the dining-
room, in order not to be easily recognised by my portrait, copied in
different newspapers in which I was reproduced without my hat.
Our first care in the morning was to peruse the earliest editions of
the papers to see if we were found out. The reporters were on our
track again. A journalist who had been tracking down Mr. Shaniavski
all along, step by step, discovered him out at the Lyndhurst, and
wanted to have all sorts of information about General Doukhovskoy,
and again Mr. Shaniavski told him that he knew nothing about the
General.
Sarah, the chambermaid, tried to penetrate our incognito and to
learn who and what I was. More than once, while doing up my
room, she expressed the desire to see a real Russian General.
Looking at my hands she said: “I daresay you have never known
what work means, look at your hands, they are much too white!”

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