Stephen Graham opens his 1916 diary with a practical itinerary: a journey around the North Cape to Ekaterina, then to Archangel, Moscow, and the Caucasus. He frames the book as a deliberate alternative to newspaper reports, which he finds difficult to follow and prone to sensational appeals. The preface positions the volume as a letter between friends, a quiet correspondence meant to keep England and Russia in touch during the war. Graham’s voice is direct and unadorned, and he makes no claim to comprehensive analysis—only to personal impressions gathered from travel and conversation.

The Rouble’s Real Weight

Graham devotes an entire chapter to Russian money, tracking the rouble’s fall from 94 to the pound before the war to 150 in 1916. He notes that banks now give the due exchange value, but the paper rouble will never regain its guaranteed gold exchange. The government buys gold at a rate assuming a lower value, and hoarding is widespread: “People who have hoards of gold coinage—and they are many in Russia, for the people are disinclined to use banks—are keeping their gold.”

The effect on property is stark. An estate worth 94,000 roubles before the war is now worth 150,000. Debtors benefit as the real weight of debt diminishes. Graham recounts friends who sold a Vladikavkaz house at a previously absurd price; the buyer, “a sort of a Tartar,” understood the rouble’s lost value better than they did. In Kislovodsk, a “perfect rage of buying and selling property” has erupted. These details ground abstract inflation in specific transactions.

Troops Seen Along the Tracks

Graham’s observations of the Russian war effort are visual and concrete. He reports that “the new troops marching and drilling on the open places of the large towns, in camps on the steppes” are visible from the train. He also notes “boy-Cossacks prancing about on their ponies and practising with their lances.” The tone is matter-of-fact, not triumphal. He describes a revision of medical exemptions that has recovered large numbers of men for service. The cumulative effect is of a nation fully mobilized, though the excerpts offer no judgment on the war’s progress or the troops’ condition beyond noting that “her spirit is good.”

A Traveller’s Method

Graham’s method is to move and to listen. He travels to Bergen, around the North Cape, to Ekaterina, Archangel, Moscow, and the Caucasus. He visits estates, stays with acquaintances, and talks with “all manner of Russians.” The book is structured as a diary of impressions, not a systematic study. He explicitly declines to write another book on Russia—there are already many—and instead offers a volume that can be followed by others returning at later dates. This serial, epistolary approach shapes the prose: it is immediate, personal, and limited to what one traveller can see and hear. The excerpts show no overarching argument, only a series of grounded reports.

Graham’s diary rewards a reader interested in the texture of everyday life under wartime conditions—the price of bread, the value of land, the look of recruits. Because the book is explicitly a collection of impressions, it invites the reader to treat each chapter as a discrete snapshot rather than a continuous narrative. The preface’s call for future volumes suggests that the value of such accounts lies in their accumulation over time, not in any single conclusion.