DINNER IN A RUSSIAN RESTAURANT.--CABBAGE SOUP, FISH PIES, AND OTHER ODD
DISHES.--THE _SAMOVAR_ AND ITS USES.--RUSSIAN TEA-DRINKERS.--_JOLTAI
CHAI_.--ALEXANDER'S COLUMN.--FORTRESS OF STS. PETER AND PAUL.--IMPERIAL
ASSASSINATIONS.--SKETCHES OF THE PEOPLE.--RUSSIAN POLICE AND THEIR WAYS.
Instead of returning to the hotel for dinner, our friends went to a
_traktir_, or Russian restaurant, in a little street running out of
Admiralty Square. The youths were anxious to try the national dishes of
the country, and consequently they accepted with pleasure Doctor
Bronson's suggestion relative to their dining-place.
"The finest and most characteristic restaurants of Russia are in Moscow
rather than in St. Petersburg," said the Doctor, as he led the way to
the establishment they had decided to patronize. "St. Petersburg has a
great many French and German features that you do not find in Moscow,
and when we get to the latter city we must not fail to go to the
'Moskovski Traktir,' which is one of the most celebrated feeding-places
of the old capital. There the waiters are clad in silk shirts, or
frocks, extending nearly to the knee, over loose trousers of the same
material. At the establishment where we are now going the dress is that
of the ordinary French restaurant, and we shall have no difficulty in
finding some one who speaks either French or German."
They found the lower room of the restaurant filled with men solacing
themselves with tea, which they drank from glasses filled and refilled
from pots standing before them. On each table was a steaming _samovar_
to supply boiling water to the teapots as fast as they were emptied. The
boys had seen the _samovar_ at railway-stations and other places since
their entrance into the Empire, but had not thus far enjoyed the
opportunity of examining it.
[Illustration: TEA-SELLERS IN THE STREETS.]
"We will have a _samovar_ to ourselves," said the Doctor, as they
mounted the stairs to an upper room, "and then you can study it as
closely as you like."
The Russian bill of fare was too much for the reading abilities of any
one of the trio. The Doctor could spell out some of the words, but
found they would get along better by appealing to one of the waiters.
Under his guidance they succeeded very well, as we learn from Frank's
account of the dinner.
"Doctor Bronson told us that cabbage soup was the national dish of the
country, and so we ordered it, under the mysterious name of _tschee e
karsha_. The cabbage is chopped, and then boiled till it falls into
shreds; a piece of meat is cooked with it; the soup is seasoned with
pepper and salt; and altogether the _tschee_ (soup) is decidedly
palatable. _Karsha_, is barley thoroughly boiled, and then dried over
the fire until the grains fall apart. A saucerful of this cooked barley
is supplied to you along with the soup, and you eat them together. You
may mingle the _karsha_ with the _tschee_ as you would mix rice with
milk, but the orthodox way of eating is to take a small quantity of the
_karsha_ into your spoon each time before dipping it into the soup. A
substantial meal can be made of these articles alone, and there are
millions of the subjects of his Imperial Majesty the Czar who dine
to-day and many other days in the year on nothing else. The Emperor eats
_tschee_, and so does the peasant--probably the Emperor has it less
often in the year than does his poor subject; but the soup is of the
same kind, except that very often the peasant cannot afford the
important addition of meat."
[Illustration: RUSSIAN RESTAURANT AT THE PARIS EXPOSITION.]
"Don't forget," Fred interposed, when the foregoing description was read
to him--"don't forget to say that they served us a little cup or mug of
sour cream along with the _tschee_."
"Yes, that's so," responded Frank; "but I didn't like it particularly,
and therefore came near forgetting it. We remember best the things that
please us."
"Then perhaps you didn't like the _zakushka_, or appetizer, before
dinner," said the Doctor, "as I see you haven't mentioned it."
"I hadn't forgotten it," said the youth, "but was going to say something
about it at the end. You know the preface of a book is always written
after the rest of the volume has been completed, but as you've called
attention to it, I'll dispose of it now. Here it is:
"There was a side-table, on which were several plates containing
relishes of different kinds, such as caviare, raw herring, dried beef,
smoked salmon cut in little strips or squares, radishes, cheese,
butter, and tiny sandwiches about the size of a half-dollar. A glass of
cordial, of which several kinds were offered, goes with the _zakushka_
for those who like it; the cordial and a few morsels of the solid things
are supposed to sharpen the appetite and prepare it for the dinner which
is to be eaten at the table.
[Illustration: AN OUT-DOOR TEA-PARTY.]
"The _zakushka_ is inseparable from a dinner in Russia, and belongs to
it just as much as do any of the dishes that are served after the seats
are taken. While we were standing around the side-table where it was
served at our first dinner in St. Petersburg, Doctor Bronson told us a
story that is too good to be lost. I'll try to give it in his words:
"There was once a Russian soldier who had a phenomenal appetite; he
could eat an incredible quantity of food at a sitting, and the officers
of his regiment used to make wagers with strangers about his feeding
abilities. They generally won; and as the soldier always received a
present when he had gained a bet, he exerted himself to the best of his
ability.
"One day the colonel made a wager for a large amount that his man could
eat an entire sheep at a sitting. The sheep was selected, slaughtered,
and sent to a restaurant, and at the appointed time the colonel appeared
with the soldier. In order to help the man along, the keeper of the
restaurant had cooked the different parts of the sheep in various ways;
there were broiled and fried cutlets, roasted and boiled quarters, and
some stews and hashes made from the rest. Dish after dish disappeared.
When almost the entire sheep had been devoured, the soldier turned to
the colonel and said,
"'If you give me so much _zakushka_ I'm afraid I sha'n't be able to eat
all of the sheep when they bring it.'"
"But to return to soups. In addition to _tschee_, the Russians have
_ukha_, or fish soup, made of any kind of fish that is in season. The
most expensive is made from sterlet, a fish that is found only in the
Volga, and sometimes sells for its weight in silver. We tried it one
day, and liked it very much, but it costs too much for frequent eating
except by the wealthy. A very good fish soup is made from trout, and
another from perch.
"After the soup we had a _pirog_, or pie made of the spinal cord of the
sturgeon cut into little pieces about half as large as a pea. It
resembles isinglass in appearance and is very toothsome. The pie is
baked in a deep dish, with two crusts, an upper and an under one. Doctor
Bronson says the Russians make all kinds of fish into pies and patties,
very much as we make meat pies at home. They sometimes put raisins in
these pies--a practice which seems very incongruous to Americans and
English. They also make _solianka_, a dish composed of fish and cabbage,
and not at all bad when one is hungry; red or black pepper liberally
applied is an improvement.
"What do you think of _okroshka_--a soup made of cold beer, with pieces
of meat, cucumber, and red herrings floating in it along with bits of
ice to keep it cool? Don't want any. Neither do we; but the Russians of
the lower classes like it, and I have heard Russian gentlemen praise it.
Many of them are fond of _batvenia_, which is a cold soup made in much
the same way as _okroshka_, and about as unpalatable to us. We ordered a
portion of _okroshka_ just to see how it looked and tasted. One
teaspoonful was enough for each of us, and _batvenia_ we didn't try.
"After the _pirog_ we had cutlets of chicken, and then roast mutton
stuffed with buckwheat, both of them very good. They offered us some
boiled pig served cold, with horseradish sauce, but we didn't try it;
and then they brought roast grouse, with salted cucumbers for salad. We
wound up with Nesselrode pudding, made of plum-pudding and ices, and not
unknown in other countries. Then we had the _samovar_, which had been
made ready for us, and drank some delicious tea which we prepared
ourselves. Now for the _samovar_.
[Illustration: RUSSIAN MUJIKS DRINKING TEA.]
"Its name comes from two words which mean 'self-boiling;' and the
_samovar_ is nothing but an urn of brass or copper, with a cylinder in
the centre, where a fire is made with charcoal. The water surrounds the
cylinder, and is thus kept at the boiling-point, which the Russians
claim is indispensable to the making of good tea. The beverage is drank
not from cups, but from glasses, and the number of glasses it will
contain is the measure of a _samovar_. The Russians rarely put milk with
their tea; the common people never do so, and the upper classes only
when they have acquired the habit while abroad. They rarely dissolve
sugar in their tea, but nibble from a lump after taking a swallow of the
liquid. A peasant will make a single lump serve for four or five glasses
of tea, and it is said to be an odd sensation for a stranger to hear the
nibbling and grating of lumps of sugar when a party of Russians is
engaged in tea-drinking.
"We sat late over the _samovar_, and then paid our bill and returned to
the Square. Doctor Bronson told us that an enormous quantity of tea is
consumed in Russia, but very little coffee. Formerly all the tea used in
the Empire was brought overland from China by way of Siberia, and the
business enabled the importers of tea to accumulate great fortunes. Down
to 1860 only one cargo of tea annually was brought into Russia by sea,
all the rest of the importation being through the town of Kiachta, on
the frontier of Mongolia. Since 1860 the ports of the Empire have been
opened to tea brought from China by water, and the trade of Kiachta has
greatly diminished. But it is still very large, and long trains of
sledges come every winter through Siberia laden with the tea which has
been brought to Kiachta on the backs of camels from the districts where
it is grown.
[Illustration: PLANT FROM WHICH YELLOW TEA IS MADE.]
"There is one kind of the Chinese herb, called _joltai chai_ (yellow
tea), which is worth at retail about fifteen dollars a pound. It is said
to be made from the blossom of the tea-plant, and is very difficult to
find out of Russia, as all that is produced comes here for a market. We
each had a cup of this tea to finish our dinner with, and nothing more
delicious was ever served from a teapot. The infusion is a pale yellow,
or straw-color, and to look at appears weak enough, but it is unsafe to
take more than one cup if you do not wish to be kept awake all night.
Its aroma fills the room when it is poured out. All the pens in the
world cannot describe the song of the birds or the perfume of the
flowers, and so my pen is unable to tell you about the aroma and taste
of _joltai chai_. We'll get a small box of the best and send it home for
you to try."
It was so late in the day when our friends had finished their dinner and
returned to the Square, that there was not much time left for
sight-seeing. They were in front of the Winter Palace and St. Isaac's
Church, but decided to leave them until another day. Fred's attention
was drawn to a tall column between the Winter Palace and a crescent of
lofty buildings called the _État-major_, or staff headquarters, and he
asked the Doctor what it was.
[Illustration: COLUMN IN MEMORY OF ALEXANDER I.]
"That is the Alexander Column," was the reply to the question. "It is
one of the largest monoliths or single shafts of modern times, and was
erected in 1832 in memory of Alexander I."
"What a splendid column!" said Frank. "I wonder how high it is."
Thereupon the youths fell to guessing at the height of the column. After
they had made their estimates--neither of them near the mark but
considerably below it--Doctor Bronson gave them its dimensions.
"The shaft, without pedestal or capital, is fourteen feet in diameter
and eighty-four feet high; it was originally one hundred and two feet
high, but was reduced through fear that its length was out of proportion
to its diameter. The base and pedestal are one single block of red
granite about twenty-five feet high, and the capital is sixteen feet
high. The angel above the capital is fourteen feet tall, and the cross
in the hands of the angel is seven feet above it. With the platform on
which it rests, the whole structure rises one hundred and fifty-four
feet from the level of the ground."
"They must have had a hard time to make the foundations in this marshy
ground," one of the boys remarked.
"They drove six rows of piling there, one after the other, before
getting a foundation to suit them," said the Doctor. "The shaft alone,
which was put up in the rough and finished afterwards, is thought to
weigh about four hundred tons, and the pedestal and base nearly as much
more. Unfortunately the shaft has suffered from the effects of the
severe climate, and may be destroyed at no distant day. Several cracks
have been made by the frost, and though they have been carefully
cemented, they continue to increase in size. Pieces have fallen from the
surface of the stone in the same way that they have fallen from the
Egyptian obelisk in New York, and it is very evident that the climate of
St. Petersburg is unfriendly to monuments of granite."
The bronze on the pedestal and capital is from Turkish cannon which were
melted down for the purpose. The only inscription is in the few words,
"TO ALEXANDER THE FIRST, GRATEFUL RUSSIA."
Frank made a sketch of the monument together with the buildings of the
_État-major_ and a company of soldiers that marched past the foot of the
column. Doctor Bronson said the soldiers belonged to the guard of the
palace, where they had been on duty through the day, and had just been
relieved.
From the column and the buildings surrounding it the trio of strangers
walked to the bank of the river and watched the boats on the water,
where the setting sun slanted in long rays and filled the air with the
mellow light peculiar to high latitudes near the close of day. It was
early in September, and already the evening air had a touch of coolness
about it. St. Petersburg is in latitude 60° North, and consequently is
quite near the Arctic Circle. Doctor Bronson told the youths that if
they had come there in July they would have found very little night, the
sun setting not far from ten o'clock and rising about two. In the four
hours of night there is almost continuous twilight; and by mounting to
the top of a high building at midnight one can see the position of the
sun below the northern horizon. Any one who goes to bed after sunset and
rises before sunrise would have very little sleep in St. Petersburg in
summer.
"On the other hand," said the Doctor, "the nights of winter are very
long. Winter is the gay season here, as the city is deserted by
fashionable people in summer, and one is not expected to make visits.
The Imperial court goes away; the Emperor has a palace at Yalta in the
Crimea, and there he passes the autumn months, unless kept in St.
Petersburg or Moscow by the affairs of the nation. They have some public
festivities here in summer, but not generally, most of the matters of
this kind being reserved for the winter."
[Illustration: PETER THE GREAT.]
Boats were moving in all directions on the placid waters of the river,
darting beneath the magnificent bridge that stretches across the stream,
and carrying little parties, who sought recreation or were on errands of
business. On the opposite side of the Neva, and beyond the Winter
Palace, was the grim fortress of Sts. Peter and Paul, with whose history
many tales of horror are connected, and where numerous prisoners of
greater or less note have been confined. "It was there," said Doctor
Bronson, "that Peter the Great caused his son Alexis to be put to
death."
"Caused his son to be put to death!" exclaimed the youths together.
"Yes, it is generally believed that such was the case," the Doctor
answered, "though the fact is not actually known. Alexis, the son of
Peter the Great, was opposed to his father's reforms, and devotedly
attached to the old superstitions and customs of Russia. Peter decided
to exclude him from the throne; the son consented, and announced his
desire to enter a monastery, from which he managed to escape to Austria,
where he sought the protection of the Emperor of that country. Peter
sent one of his generals in pursuit of Alexis; by a combination of
threats and promises he was induced to return to St. Petersburg, where
he was thrown into prison, and afterwards tried for high-treason and
condemned to death. Peter pardoned but did not release him. On the 7th
of July, 1718, he died suddenly, and it was and is now generally
believed that he was poisoned or beheaded by his father's order."
"And was he really guilty of high-treason?" Fred asked.
"According to Russian law and custom, and particularly according to the
law and custom of Peter the Great, he certainly was," Doctor Bronson
replied. "Remember, the Emperor is autocratic in his power, at least in
theory, and in Peter's time he was so actually. The will of the founder
of the Russian Empire was law; Alexis was opposed to that will, and
consequently opposed to the Imperial law. The progress of Russia was
more in the eyes of Peter than the life of any human being, not even
excepting his own son, and the legitimate heir to the throne. The
proceedings of the trial were published by Peter as a justification of
his act.
[Illustration: ASSASSINATION OF PETER III.]
"Peter II., the son of Alexis and grandson of the great Peter, died
suddenly, at the age of fifteen; Peter III., grandchild of Peter the
Great through his daughter Anna, was the husband of the Empress
Catherine II.; but his reign was very short. His life with Catherine was
not the happiest in the world, and in less than eight months after he
became Emperor she usurped the throne, deposed her husband, and caused
him to be strangled. Catherine was a German princess, but declared
herself thoroughly Russian when she came to reside in the Empire. If
history is correct, she made a better ruler than the man she put aside,
but this can be no justification of her means of attaining power.
[Illustration: PAUL I.]
"Her son, Paul I., followed the fate of his father in being
assassinated, but it was not by her orders. She brought him up in
complete ignorance of public affairs, and compelled him to live away
from the Imperial court. Until her death, in 1796, she kept him in
retirement, although she had his sons taken to court and educated under
her immediate supervision. Treatment like this was calculated to make
him whimsical and revengeful, and when he became emperor he tried to
undo every act of his mother and those about her. He disbanded her
armies, made peace with the countries with which she was at war,
reversed her policy in everything, and became a most bitter tyrant
towards his own people. He issued absurd orders, and at length his acts
bordered on insanity.
"A conspiracy was formed among some of the noblemen, who represented to
his son Alexander that it was necessary to secure the abdication of his
father on the ground of incapacity. Late at night, March 23d, 1801, they
went to his bedroom and presented a paper for him to sign. He refused,
and was then strangled by the conspirators. Alexander I. was proclaimed
emperor, and the announcement of Paul's death was hailed with delight by
his oppressed subjects. Among the foolish edicts he issued was one which
forbade the wearing of round hats. Within an hour after his death became
known, great numbers of round hats were to be seen on the streets.
"You've had enough of the history of the Imperial family of Russia for
the present," said the Doctor, after a pause, "and now we'll look at the
people on the streets. It is getting late, and we'll go to the hotel,
making our observations on the way.
[Illustration: RUSSIAN AND FINN.]
"Here are distinct types of the inhabitants of the Empire," the Doctor
remarked, as they passed two men who seemed to be in animated
conversation. "The man with the round cap and long coat is a Russian
peasant, while the one with the hood over his head and falling down to
his shoulders is a Finn, or native of Finland."
"How far is it from here to Finland?" Frank asked.
"Only over the river," the Doctor replied. "You cross the Neva to its
opposite bank, and you are in what was once the independent duchy of
Finland, but has long been incorporated with Russia. When Peter the
Great came here he did not like to be so near a foreign country, and so
made up his mind to convert Finland into Russian territory. The
independence of the duchy was maintained for some time, but in the early
part of the present century Russia defeated the armies of Finland, and
the country was permanently occupied. Finland has its constitution,
which is based on that of Sweden, and when it was united with Russia the
constitutional rights of the people were guaranteed. The country is
ruled by a governor-general, who is appointed by Russia; it has a
parliament for presenting the grievances and wishes of the people, but
all acts must receive the approval of the Imperial Government before
they can become the law of the land."
[Illustration: DVORNIK AND POSTMAN.]
"What are those men standing in front of a building?" said Fred, as he
pointed to a fellow with a broom talking with another in uniform.
"The one in uniform is a postman," was the reply, "and the other is a
_dvornik_, or house guardian. The _dvornik_ sweeps the sidewalk in front
of a house and looks after the entrance; he corresponds to the porter,
or _portier_, of other countries, and is supposed to know the names of
all the tenants of the building. The postman is reading an address on a
letter, and the _dvornik_ is probably pointing in the direction of the
room occupied by the person to whom the missive belongs."
"I have read that letters in Russia are examined by the police before
they are delivered," said one of the boys. "Is that really the case?"
"Formerly it was, or at least they were liable to examination, and it
probably happens often enough at the present time. If a man is suspected
of treasonable practices his correspondence is liable to be seized;
unless there is a serious charge against him, it is not detained after
examination, provided it contains nothing objectionable. The
Post-office, like everything else in Russia, is a part of the military
system, and if the Government wishes to do anything with the letters of
its subjects it generally does it. The correspondence of foreigners is
rarely meddled with. Writers for the foreign newspapers sometimes
complain that their letters are lost in the mails, or show signs of
having been opened, but I fancy that these cases are rare. For one, I
haven't the least fear that our letters will be troubled, as we have no
designs upon Russia other than to see it. If we were plotting treason,
or had communications with Russian and Polish revolutionists in France
or Switzerland, it is probable that the Government would not be long in
finding it out."
"What would happen to us, supposing that to be the case?" Frank
inquired.
"Supposing it to be so for the sake of argument," the Doctor answered,
"our treatment would depend much upon the circumstances. If we were
Russians, we should probably be arrested and imprisoned; but as we are
foreigners, we should be asked to leave the country. Unless the matter
is very serious, the authorities do not like to meddle with foreigners
in any way that will lead to a dispute with another government, and
their quickest way out of the difficulty is to expel the obnoxious
visitor."
"How would they go to work to expel us?"
[Illustration: LODGINGS AT THE FRONTIER.]
"An officer would call at our lodgings and tell us our passports were
ready for our departure. He would probably say that the train for the
frontier leaves at 11 A.M. to-morrow, and he would expect us to go by
that train. If the case was urgent, he would probably tell us we must go
by that train, and he would be at the hotel at ten o'clock to escort us
to it. He would take us to the train and accompany us to the frontier,
where he would gracefully say good-by, and wish us a pleasant journey to
our homes. If matters were less serious, he would allow us two or three
days, perhaps a week, to close our affairs; all would depend upon his
orders, and whatever they were they would be carried out.
[Illustration: ORDERED TO LEAVE RUSSIA.]
"Before the days of the railways objectionable parties were taken to the
frontier in carriages or sleighs, the Government paying the expense of
the posting; and no matter what the hour of arrival at the boundary,
they were set down and left to take care of themselves. An Englishman
who had got himself into trouble with the Government in the time of the
Emperor Nicholas, tells how he was dropped just over the boundary in
Prussia in the middle of a dark and rainy night, and left standing in
the road with his baggage, fully a mile from any house. The officer who
accompanied him was ordered to escort him over the frontier, and did it
exactly. Probably his passenger was a trifle obstinate, or he would not
have been left in such a plight. A little politeness, and possibly a few
shillings in money, would have induced the officer to bring him to the
boundary in the daytime, and in the neighborhood of a habitation.
"Expelled foreigners have rarely any cause to complain of the incivility
of their escorts. I know a Frenchman who was thus taken to the frontier
after a notice of two days, and he told me that he could not have
received greater civility if he had been the guest of the Emperor, and
going to St. Petersburg instead of from it. He added that he tried to
outdo his guardians in politeness, and further admitted that he richly
deserved expulsion, as he had gone to the Empire on a revolutionary
mission. On the whole, he considered himself fortunate to have escaped
so easily."
The conversation led to anecdotes about the police system of Russia, and
at their termination our friends found themselves at the door of the
hotel. Naturally, they shifted to other topics as soon as they were in
the presence of others. It was an invariable rule of our friends not to
discuss in the hearing of any one else the politics of the countries
they were visiting.