IRKUTSK—_continued_.
A gold-caravan—Particulars as to the gold-mining industry of
Siberia—The Foundling Hospital—The fire-brigade—Celebration of
the Czar’s birthday—Living in Irkutsk.
[Illustration: THE HIGH STREET, IRKUTSK.]
While driving outside the city one day I met a most curious-looking
procession. It consisted of twelve covered sledges nearly all exactly
of the same pattern, with numbers written on them, and the leading and
hindmost ones with large lanterns fixed on the roof; in several of them
I noticed were soldiers with rifles in readiness. The effect was so
peculiar that on my return I made it my business to find out what it was
all about. I was informed that what I had seen was a “gold-caravan” _en
route_ for Russia. My informant then, in reply to my questions, gave me a
lot of interesting particulars about the gold-mining industry of Siberia
which was quite new to me, and will doubtless be of interest to others.
He told me that all gold found in Siberia has to be sold immediately to
the Government, who buys it at the current price of St. Petersburg. A
mine-owner is not permitted to sell to a private individual, nor even
to have the smallest amount in his possession beyond a certain time.
If he should desire to keep a small nugget, say, as a curiosity, he
must _buy_ it from the Government, who will then give him a special
permit authorizing him its possession. All gold has to be delivered
at the owner’s expense at the Government smelting-houses, where it is
made into ingots and then sent by caravan to St. Petersburg, the cost
of smelting and carriage being also charged to the owner. The primary
charges are, therefore, somewhat considerable. Gold is sold at per
“pood,” a pood being equivalent to thirty-six pounds English. At the then
rate of exchange, a pood was worth 15,616 roubles (8 rs. 40 kopeks =
£1, February, 1891); out of this must be deducted the cost of transport
(usually per post) to the smelting-house, which is considerable, and
the further cost per caravan and rail to St. Petersburg, which amounts
to forty roubles per pood. The Government keeps back for assaying,
smelting, etc., 416 roubles per pood on all gold from the Lena mines, and
132 roubles in gold sent from the Amour district. I naturally asked the
reason of the great difference in the charges against the two districts,
and was told that in the Amour district, where only the width of the
river separates the Russian from the Chinese empire, the temptation to
sell the gold across the frontier would be very great were the Russian
Government duties excessive; so it is for that reason they are so much
reduced. The Lena mines are too far away for anything of the sort to be
feared.
Through the courtesy of the officials I was enabled to spend a very
interesting morning at the Government smelting-house, and witnessed
several operations, to me very novel, from the unpacking of the gold as
it is received from the mine-owners, its weighing, smelting, and eventual
running off into ingots. Over £10,000 worth of gold was operated on, so I
had a good opportunity of seeing the entire _modus operandi_. I noticed,
by the way, that all the assaying instruments were English, and by a
London maker. Afterwards I was shown, in the “safe,” ingots to the amount
of nearly half a million (£500,000), some of them so heavy that I could
hardly lift them, all of which had the owner’s mark on them, with date,
weight, etc.
An enormous quantity of gold annually leaves Siberia for St. Petersburg.
Last year, I am informed, the weight amounted to 1295 poods, or 46,620
lbs. Each caravan, such as the one I had seen, by which it is sent as
far as the railway at Tiumen, consists of twelve sledges or tarantasses,
according to the season, and is accompanied by two officers and six
soldiers, which is certainly not a big guard, considering the immense
value of their charge, for each conveyance contains 25 poods (or 900 lbs.
of solid gold), so the entire caravan carries no less than 10,800 lbs. of
the precious metal.
To my surprise, I learnt that no Siberian goldsmith is allowed to buy
or work in gold, the penalty for breaking this law being very severe.
In spite, however, of these regulations, I hear that a lot of illicit
gold-buying and even goldsmith’s work exists; for, as is always the case
when such stringent precautions are taken, there are weak points in the
law, which serve as loopholes to the many people whose consciences do
not prick them, with the result that a deal of Siberian gold crosses the
frontier into China, where it finds a ready market.
Amongst the many imposing buildings in the city there was one which
struck me as being particularly fine. On inquiry I was informed that it
was the Foundling Hospital (_Vospititelni Dom_). I had read so much
about these unique Russian institutions, that my curiosity was aroused.
Without any difficulty whatever I obtained permission to visit it, and
I was very much interested in all I was shown, for I had never seen
anything of the kind before. It was, of course, a _replica_ on a smaller
scale of the colossal institutions of the kind in St. Petersburg and
Moscow and other Russian cities, which are so ably described in “Murray.”
As their _raison d’être_ may not be generally known, a few extracts from
the work just named may be of interest.
In speaking of these hospitals at St. Petersburg and Moscow he says—
“The fate of illegitimate children and the responsibilities of
their parents have been, and in all probability will remain,
one of the most difficult subjects for legislation in most
countries. But though some laws regarding it are necessary,
there can be no question that natural affection, nay, even
common humanity, should inculcate upon those who can possibly
raise the means the duty of bringing them up at their own
expense. The facilities afforded by this hospital militate, we
think, against this principle....
“We cannot help thinking that a visit to this remarkable
establishment [the St. Petersburg one] cannot fail to excite
very serious reflections in the mind of the English traveller.
If the institution is to be viewed in the light of a charity,
it is charity upon a very questionable principle; but be this
as it may, this vast breeding-cage will give visitors a very
clear idea of the power and immense resources of the State....
Though this is called a foundling hospital, it is in reality a
general receptacle for all children, who are received up to a
certain age without exception, it being entirely left to the
option of the parents to state their names and conditions, and
to contribute or not to the future support of the child.... If
a boy be left by his parents without any accompanying deposit,
he is brought up for the army, and, unless he displays very
unusual mental powers, is destined for life to serve as a
common soldier; if, on the contrary, a certain sum is left with
him, he will become an officer. Thus the boys brought up in
this institution become in all cases the property of the State,
and furnish a constant supply of recruits for the various
gradations of military service.... The majority of the girls,
beyond a common and useful education in their own language, are
employed solely in manual labour, the produce of which goes
partly to the funds of the institution and is partly put by for
them, to form their marriage portion.”
I do not think I was ever in a cleaner-looking place than the Irkutsk
Foundling Hospital. The floors actually rivalled the walls in whiteness,
and the neat costume worn by the wet-nurses enhanced an effect which was
as pretty as it was unique. Each nurse, I was informed, has charge of two
infants, and I noticed in several instances the woman walking about with
the two babies at the same time, one on each arm. Considering how many
children there were in the place, the rooms were remarkably quiet, for I
had quite expected to hear the usual deafening “nursery row” going on—a
row which, though doubtless very amusing to mothers and nurses, never had
much attraction for me. There was nothing particularly striking about the
interior of the building, which consisted of several very large and lofty
rooms; in the centre of each of these, which probably contained about six
cots, was a sort of high table or desk with a ledge round it, and on
which the babies were dressed, or, rather, tightly packed up in swaddling
clothes—a curious process which gave them the appearance of miniature
mummies all exactly of the same pattern, for the rolling always seemed
done on a sort of systematic principle. I was much astonished to learn
that many of the wet-nurses were the mothers of the children they were
nursing, for they are often so appointed if they wish it, when there is
no reason to the contrary. The infants are usually kept in the hospital
for about six weeks, and are then sent out to nurse amongst the peasants
round about, for which a small monthly sum is paid by the institution;
and then when they reach a certain age,
“About six years old, they are taken from their foster parents
[what a parting this must be to thousands every year!], the
girls to St. Petersburg for their education, and the boys to a
branch establishment at Gatshina” (Murray).
Of course the Irkutsk foundlings are brought up and remain in Siberia.
Amongst the many other charitable institutions here, I also visited one
of the children’s homes (_dedski prioutt_), where orphans of both sexes
are received up to a certain age, and educated and brought up free. Also
the “Home” for the aged and infirm who, through no fault of their own,
find themselves stranded at the end of their lives—a “Home” unique in its
way, being neither a workhouse nor an almshouse as we understand it in
England. What most impressed me in these institutions was the marvellous
cleanliness and order which existed everywhere.
[Illustration: IN THE COURTYARD OF A FIRE STATION, IRKUTSK.]
The fire-brigade is quite a big affair here, as well it may be after the
terrible experiences of the inhabitants in 1879, and, as is the case
in all Siberian cities, large watch-towers are placed in all the most
prominent positions, from which watchmen can discern any outbreak, and
then give the alarm by means of a big bell; whilst in the stations below
the men, horses, manuals, and water-carts are in constant readiness,
and can turn out in wonderfully short time—in fact, so smart are they,
that had I not seen a proof of it on one occasion, I could hardly have
believed it possible to harness the horses and get away so quickly. There
is a steam fire-engine at Irkutsk, and I was gratified to note that it
was by an English firm, Shand and Mason. Very proud the men seem of it,
too, for it shone all over like a looking-glass, and is evidently kept
in tip-top condition. In this distant Siberian city its familiar form
seemed like a connecting-link with far-away London.
I was much struck with the number of overhead wires one sees in Irkutsk,
and on inquiry learnt they were mostly telephone wires, and that all the
Government offices and most of the big business houses are connected by
this means. The wires are worked by a private company, and the charges
are not excessive considering, the cost per year, including hire and
fixing of machine, etc., being only twenty-five roubles (£3). Irkutsk is
also in direct communication with a St. Petersburg Central News Agency,
and every item of news of importance is received here by telegram as
soon as it is known at the Russian office. In this way I learnt of the
last Whitechapel murder on the very evening of the day it had occurred,
for everybody at the club was talking of it, such an impression did it
make even right away here in the centre of Asia. Talking of clubs, there
are two really well-arranged ones here, one a military, the other a
merchants’, though neither of them can come up to the one at Krasnoiarsk
in my opinion.
The museum, which I visited one morning, well repaid me for the couple of
hours I spent there, for the five rooms contain, besides many valuable
specimens of Siberian and Mongolian curiosities and mammoth bones, a
complete stuffed collection of Siberian animals and birds. The rooms
are also used for the periodical meetings of the St. Petersburg Imperial
Geographical Society, of which Irkutsk is the Eastern Siberian section.
As far as outdoor amusement is concerned, the principal place during the
winter months is the skating-rink, in the principal street, which is
the favourite resort of the _jeunesse dorée_ here, and from four till
six of an afternoon the ice is generally crowded with pretty girls and
smart-looking officers and civilians, most of them excellent skaters.
A band, which plays twice a week, and fireworks and illuminations on
certain evenings, add also considerably to its attractions. Beyond the
clubs there is very little in the way of public amusements, for the
only theatre was burnt down two years ago and has not yet been rebuilt,
although it is proposed to do so shortly on a magnificent scale.
Meanwhile, amateur dramatic performances occasionally take place in a
large hall transformed for the nonce into a short of theatre. I was
present at one of these “performances,” and although I understood but
very little of what was said, I could not help coming to the conclusion
that Irkutsk is not bubbling over with amateur histrionic talent, for the
show was very tame and uninteresting.
[Illustration: THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL’S HOUSE, IRKUTSK.]
It is said that in Russia at least one-half of the year is given up to
religious or other holidays, and I can quite believe it, for scarcely
a week passed without a _prasnik_ of some sort occurring during it;
so much so that my astonishment is that any business can be carried on
successfully with such continuous interruptions; for on these holidays
all the shops are closed, and nothing whatever goes on all day except
church-bell ringing and subsequent parading of the streets by the
townspeople in their well-used holiday attire. The most important of all
these _fêtes_ occurred whilst I was in Irkutsk, March 10 (February 26,
Old Style), being the anniversary of the Czar’s birthday. The city was
gaily decorated for the occasion, and as it was quite a warm spring-like
day the streets were thronged with people, and presented a most animated
appearance. After the customary thanksgiving service in the different
churches, a royal salute was fired, and a parade of the garrison took
place in front of the cathedral, in the presence of the governor-general
and his staff. The troops, who were without their rifles, performed
several evolutions with a smartness which quite surprised me, for,
although undoubtedly a serviceable-looking lot of men, they had never
given me the impression of having any smartness in them. After marching
past, first in quarter column and then double column of companies, they
were formed up in line, the wheeling being remarkably steady, and the
proceedings ended with a cheer for his most holy Majesty the Czar of all
the Russias. One sees so little of the military in Siberia, except when
they are off duty, that it is seldom one has an opportunity of judging
what “stuff” they are made of.
Living in Irkutsk is not cheap—rather the reverse, I thought, after my
Krasnoiarsk and Yeniseisk experiences—for, in spite of rent, food, and
labour being as cheap as anywhere else in Siberia, the charges at all
the hotels were as high as they would have been anywhere in Europe.
One could understand it if everything had to be brought from a great
distance; but considering that Irkutsk is the centre of a huge producing
district, it ought to be one of the cheapest places to live in rather
than the contrary. Still, it is a city well worth seeing, and had I not
visited it I should certainly have missed the real “life” of Siberia.
[Illustration: STREET SCENE, IRKUTSK.]