CHAPTER XVIII.

In pursuing our course towards St. Petersburg, Russia, from Stockholm,

we cross the Baltic,--that Mediterranean of the North, but which is in

reality a remote branch of the Atlantic Ocean, with which it is

connected by two gulfs, the Kattegat and the Skagger Rack. It reaches

from the southern extremity of the Danish Archipelago up to the latitude

of Stockholm, where it extends a right and left arm,--each of great

size,--the former being the Gulf of Finland, and the latter the Gulf of

Bothnia, the whole forming the most remarkable basin of navigable inland

water in the world. The Finnish Gulf is two hundred miles long by an

average width of sixty miles, and that of Bothnia is four hundred miles

long, averaging a hundred in width.

The peninsula of Denmark, known under the name of Jutland, stands like a

barrier between the two extremes of the western formation of the

continent of Europe. We have called the Baltic the Mediterranean of the

North, but it has no such depth as that classic inland sea, which finds

its bed in a cleft of marvellous depression between Europe and Africa.

One thousand fathoms of sounding-line off Gibraltar will not reach the

bottom, and two thousand fathoms fail to find it a few miles east of

Malta. The greatest depth of the Baltic, on the contrary, is only a

hundred and fifty fathoms.

It is a curious, though not unfamiliar fact, that the Baltic, or rather

the bottom of the basin in which it lies, is rich in amber, which the

agitated waters cast upon the shores in large quantities annually,--a

process which has been going on for three or four centuries. We all know

that amber is a hardened fossil resin produced by an extinct species of

pine; so that it is evident that where these waters now ebb and flow

there were once flourishing forests of amber-producing pines. These were

doubtless gradually submerged by the encroachment of the sea, or

suddenly engulfed by some grand volcanic action of nature. Pieces of the

bark and of the cones of the pine-trees are often found adhering to the

amber, and insects of a kind unknown to our day are also found embedded

in it. The largest piece of amber extant is preserved in the British

Museum in London, and is about the size of a year-old infant's head.

It is known that the peninsula of Scandinavia is gradually becoming

elevated above the surrounding waters at the north, and depressed in an

equal ratio in the extreme south,--a fact of great interest to

geologists. The total change in the level has been carefully observed

and recorded by scientific commissions, the aggregate certified to being

a trifle over three feet, brought about in a period of a hundred and

eighteen years.

We take passage on a coasting steamer which plies between Stockholm and

St. Petersburg by way of Åbo and Helsingfors, a distance of about six

hundred miles. By this route, after crossing the open sea we pass

through an almost endless labyrinth of beautiful islands in the Gulf of

Finland, including the archipelago, known as the Aland Islands, besides

many isolated ones quite near the Finnish coast. This forms a delightful

sail, the passage being almost always smooth, except during a few hours

of exposure in the open Gulf. By and by we enter the fjord which leads

up to Åbo, which is also dotted here and there by charming garden-like

islands, upon which are built many pretty cottages, forming the summer

homes of the citizens of Finmark's former capital.

The town of Åbo has a population of about twenty-five thousand, who are

mostly of Swedish descent. It is thrifty, cleanly, and wears an aspect

of quiet prosperity. The place is venerable in years, having a record

reaching back for over seven centuries. Here the Russian flag--red,

blue, and white--first begins to greet us from all appropriate points.

The most prominent building to catch the stranger's eye on entering the

harbor is the long barrack-like prison upon a hillside. In front of us

looms up the famous old castle of Åbo, awkward and irregular in its

shape, and snow-white in texture. Here, in the olden time, Gustavus

Vasa, Eric XIV. and John III. held royal court. The streets are few but

very broad, causing the town to cover an area quite out of proportion to

the number of its inhabitants.

Helsingfors is situated still further up the Gulf, facing the ancient

town of Revel on the Esthonian coast, and is reached from Åbo in about

twelve hours' sail, also through a labyrinth of islands so numerous as

to be quite confusing, but whose picturesque beauty will not easily be

forgotten. This is the present capital of Finland, and it contains a

little over fifty thousand inhabitants; it has been several times

partially destroyed by plague, famine, and fire. It was founded by

Gustavus Vasa of Sweden, in the sixteenth century. The university is

represented to be of a high standard of excellence, and contains a

library of about two hundred thousand volumes. The most striking

feature of Helsingfors, as one approaches it from the sea, is the large

Greek church, with its fifteen domes and minarets, each capped by a

glittering cross and crescent, with pendant chains in gilt metal; and as

it is built upon high ground, the whole is very effective. The Lutheran

church is also picturesque and notable, with its five domes sparkling

with gilded stars upon a dark green ground.

Though Finland is a dependency of Russia, still it is nearly as

independent as is Norway of Sweden. It is ruled by a governor-general

assisted by the Imperial Senate, over which a representative of the

Emperor of Russia presides. The country pays no pecuniary tribute to

Russia, but imposes its own taxes, and frames its own code of laws. When

the country was joined to Russia, Alexander I. assured the people that

the integrity of their constitution and religion should be protected,

and this promise has thus far been honestly kept by the dominant power.

The port of Helsingfors is defended by the large and remarkable fortress

of Sweaborg, which repelled the English and French fleets during the

Crimean War. It was constructed by the Swedish General Ehrenswärd, who

was a poet as well as an excellent military engineer. This fort is

considered to be one of the strongest ever built, and is situated upon

seven islands, each being connected with the main fortress by tunnels

under the water of the harbor, constructed at great labor and cost.

After leaving Helsingfors we next come to Cronstadt, being a series of

low islands, about five miles long by one broad, all fortified, and

forming the key to St. Petersburg, as well as being the chief naval

station of the Empire. The two fortifications of Sweaborg and Cronstadt

insure to Russia the possession of the Gulf of Finland, no matter what

force is brought against them. The arsenals and docks are here very

extensive and unsurpassed in completeness. The best machinists in the

world find employment in them, and the latest inventions a sure and

profitable market. In all facilities for marine armament Russia is fully

abreast of, if it does not surpass, the rest of Europe.

The sail up the Neva, queen of northern rivers, affords the greatest

pleasure. Passenger steamers are seen flitting about with well-filled

decks, noisy tug-boats puff and whistle while towing heavily laden

barges, naval cutters propelled by dozens of white-clad oarsmen and

steered by officers in dazzling uniforms, small sailing-yachts

containing merry parties of both sexes glance hither and thither, all

giving animation to the scene. Here and there on the river's course long

reaches of sandy shoals appear, covered by myriads of sea-gulls, scores

of which occasionally rise, hover over our steamer, and settle in the

water. As we approach nearer to St. Petersburg, hundreds of gilded domes

and towers flashing in the warm sunlight come swiftly into view. Some of

the spires are of such great height in proportion to their diameter as

to appear needle-like. Among those reaching so far heavenward are the

slender spire of the Cathedral of Peter and Paul, nearly four hundred

feet in height, and the lofty pinnacle of the Admiralty Building.

Notwithstanding its giddy towers and looming palaces rising above the

level of the capital, the want of a little diversity in the grade of the

low-lying city is keenly felt. Like Berlin and Havana, it is built upon

a perfect level, which is the most trying of positions as to general

aspect.

St. Petersburg is the grandest city of Northern Europe. By ascending

the tower of the Admiralty, a superb and comprehensive view of the

capital is obtained. The streets are broad, the open squares vast in

size, the avenues interminable, the river wide and rapid; while the

lines of grand architecture are seemingly endless. The view from this

elevation is indeed superb, studded with azure domes decked with stars

of silver and gilded minarets. A grand city of palaces and spacious

boulevards lies spread out before the eye. The quays of the Neva above

and below the bridges are seen to present as animated a prospect as the

busy thoroughfares. A portion of this Admiralty Building is devoted to

schoolrooms for the education of naval cadets. The rest is occupied by

the offices of the civil department of this service, and a marine

museum.

[Illustration: THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. ISAACS AT ST. PETERSBURG.]

There are over two hundred churches and chapels in the city, most of

which are crowned with four or five fantastic cupolas each, and whose

interiors are rich in gold, silver, and precious stones, together with a

large array of priestly vestments elaborately embroidered with gold and

ornamented with a profusion of gems. It is, indeed, a city of churches

and palaces. Peter the Great and Catharine II., who has been called the

female Peter the Great, made this brilliant capital what it is.

Everything that meets the eye is colossal. The superb Alexander Column,

erected about fifty years ago, is a solid shaft of red granite, and the

loftiest single-stone column in the world. On its pedestal is inscribed

this simple line: "To Alexander I.--Grateful Russia." It is surmounted

by an angelic figure, the whole structure being one hundred and

fifty-four feet high, and the column itself fourteen feet in diameter at

the base; but so large is the square in which it stands that the shaft

loses much of its colossal effect. Opposite the Alexander Column, on

the same wide area, are situated the Winter Palace, with the Hermitage

on one side as a sort of annex, and on the other side in half-moon shape

are the State buildings containing the bureaus of the several ministers,

whose quarters are each a palace in itself. There is not one of the many

spacious squares of the city which is not ornamented with bronze statues

of more or less merit, embracing monuments to Peter the Great,

Catharine, Nicholas, Alexander I., and others.

The Nevsky Prospect is the most fashionable thoroughfare, and the one

devoted to the best shops. It is over a hundred feet in width, and

extends for a distance of three miles in a nearly straight line to the

Alexander Nevsky Monastery, forming a most magnificent avenue. On this

street may be seen the churches of several sects of different faiths,

such as Roman Catholics, Protestants, Armenians, and a Mahometan mosque.

Here also are the Imperial Library, the Alexander Theatre, and the

Foreign Office. The cosmopolitan character of the population of St.

Petersburg is indicated by the fact that preaching occurs weekly in

twelve different languages. The Nevsky Prospect is a street of

alternating shops, palaces, and churches. Four canals cross but do not

intercept this boulevard. These water-ways are lined their whole lengths

by substantial granite quays, and are gay with the life imparted to them

by pleasure and small freighting boats constantly furrowing their

surface. Large barges are seen containing cut wood, piled fifteen feet

high above their decks, delivering the winter's important supply of fuel

all along the banks of the canals. Others, with their hulls quite hidden

from sight, appear like great floating haystacks moving mysteriously to

their destination with horse-fodder for the city stables. From one

o'clock to five in the afternoon the Nevsky Prospect, with the tide of

humanity pouring in either direction through its broad road-way, is like

the Rue Rivoli, Paris, on a holiday.

The Imperial Library of St. Petersburg is justly entitled to more than a

mere mention; for it is one of the richest collections of books in all

Europe, both in quality and quantity. The bound volumes number a little

over one million, while it is especially rich in most interesting and

important manuscripts. In a room devoted to the purpose there is a

collection of books printed previous to the year 1500, which is

considered unique. The Alexander Theatre and the library both look down

upon a broad square which contains a fine statue of Catharine II. in

bronze. This composition seems to breathe the very spirit of the

profligate and cruel original, whose ambitious plans were ever in

conflict with her enslaving passions. History is compelled to admit her

great ability, while it causes us to blush for her infamy.

St. Petersburg is the fifth city in point of population in Europe, but

its very existence seems to be constantly threatened on account of its

low situation between two vast bodies of water. A westerly gale and high

tide in the Gulf of Finland occurring at the time of the annual breaking

up of the ice in the Neva would surely submerge this beautiful capital,

and cause an enormous loss of life. The Neva, which comes sweeping

through the city with such resistless force, is fed by that large body

of water, Lake Ladoga, which covers an area of over six thousand square

miles at a level of about sixty feet above that of the sea. However, St.

Petersburg has existed in security for nearly two centuries, and it may

possibly exist as much longer, independent of possible floods. What the

Gotha Canal is to Sweden, the Neva and its joining waters are to Russia.

Through Lake Ladoga and its ramifications of connecting canals and

rivers, it opens communication with an almost unlimited region of inland

territory, while the mouth of this river receives through the gulf the

commerce of the world.

As regards popular amusements, Sunday is the favorite day of the seven

at the public gardens, on which occasion, day and evening, theatrical

performances take place. The Greek churches, like the Roman Catholic,

are always open through the entire week, so that the devoutly inclined

can turn aside at any hour and bow before the altar, which to him

typifies all that is holy. Sunday is therefore regarded here, as in

Rome, Paris, or Seville, in the light of a holiday as well as a

holy-day. After having attended early morning service, a member of

either church unhesitatingly seeks his favorite amusement. The

horse-races of Paris, the bull-fights of Madrid, and the grand military

parades of St. Petersburg, all take place on Sunday. Few European

communities find that repose and calmness in the day which best accords

with American sentiment.

The one vehicle of Russian cities is the drosky, the most uncomfortable

and inconvenient vehicle ever constructed for the use of man, but of

which there are, nevertheless, over fifteen thousand in the streets of

the imperial city. It has very low wheels, a heavy, awkward body, and is

as noisy as a hard-running Concord coach. Some one describes it as being

a cross between a cab and an instrument of torture. There is no rest for

the occupant's back; and while the seat is more than large enough for

one, it is not large enough for two persons. It is a sort of sledge on

wheels. The noise made by these low-running conveyances as they are

hurried over the uneven pavements is almost deafening.

The winter season, which sets in about the first of November, changes

the aspect of everything in the Russian capital, and lasts until the end

of April, when the ice generally breaks up. In the meantime the Neva

freezes to a depth of six feet. But keen as is the winter cold, the

Russians do not suffer much from it, being universally clad in furs.

Even the peasant class necessarily wear warm sheep-skins with the fleece

on, otherwise they would often freeze to death on a very brief exposure

to the low temperature which prevails in winter. Doubtless there must be

poverty and wretchedness existing here, but it certainly is not obvious

to the stranger. There is no street-begging, and no half-clad,

half-starved women or children obstruct the way as is so often the case

in London or Naples.

The five islands of the city, separated by the Nevka and Neva, are

called the "Garden Islands," and they form the pleasure-drive of the

town, having quite a country aspect, forming a series of parks where

fine roads wind through shady woods, cross green meadows, and skirt

transparent lakes. Here every variety of villa is seen embowered in

attractive verdure, and a highly rural effect is obtained within city

limits.

St. Petersburg is the most spacious capital ever built by the hand of

man, and one cannot but feel that many of its grand squares, presided

over by some famous monument, are yet dismally empty. As we look upon it

to-day, it probably bears little resemblance to the city left by the

great Peter, its founder, except in its general plan, and yet it extends

so little way into the past as to have comparatively no root in history.

The magnificent granite quays, the gorgeous palaces, the costly churches

and monuments do not date previous to the reign of Catharine II. The

choice of the locality, and the building of the capital upon it, is

naturally a wonder to those who have not thought carefully about it,

since it seems to have been contrary to all reason, and to have been

steadily pursued in the face of difficulties which would have

discouraged and defeated most similar enterprises. Ten thousand lives

and more were sacrificed among the laborers annually, while the work was

going on, owing to its unhealthy nature, but still the autocratic

designer held to his purpose, until finally a respectable but not

unobjectionable foundation may be said to have been obtained upon this

Finland marsh. Yet there are those who believe that all was foreseen by

the energetic founder, that he had a grand and definite object in view

of which he never lost sight, and moreover that the object which he

aimed at has been fully consummated.

The Winter Palace is grand in every respect. Its size may be divined

when we realize that it accommodates six thousand persons connected with

the royal household. With the exception of the Vatican at Rome, and

Versailles near Paris, it is the largest habitable palace in existence,

and is made up of suits of splendid apartments, reception saloons,

drawing-rooms, throne rooms, banqueting-halls, etc. The gem of them all

is the Salle Blanche, or White Hall, so called because the fittings and

decorations are all in white and gold, by means of which an aerial

lightness and fascination of effect is produced which is difficult to

describe. It is in this apartment that the court festivals take place,

and there are probably no royal entertainments in Europe which quite

equal in splendor those given in the Winter Palace. One becomes almost

dazed by the glare of gilt and bronze, the number of polished columns of

marble and porphyry, the gorgeous hangings, the mosaics, mirrors, and

candelabra. Many of the painted ceilings are wonderfully perfect in

design and execution, while choice works of art are so abundant on all

sides as to lose effect. The famous banqueting-hall measures two hundred

feet in length by one hundred in breadth. As we come forth from the

palace through the grand entrance upon the square, it is natural to turn

and scan the magnificent front as a whole, and to remember that from the

gate of this palace Catharine II. went forth on horseback with a drawn

sword in her hand, to put herself at the head of her army.

The Hermitage, of which the world has read so much, is a spacious

building adjoining the Winter Palace, with which it is connected by a

covered gallery, and is five hundred feet long where it fronts upon the

square containing the Alexander Column. It is not, as its name might

indicate, a solitude, but a grand and elaborate palace in itself, built

by Catharine II. for a picture gallery, a museum, and a resort of

pleasure. It contains to-day one of the largest as well as the most

precious collections of paintings in the world, not forgetting those of

Rome, Florence, Paris, and Madrid. The catalogue shows twenty original

pictures by Murillo, six by Velasquez, sixty by Rubens, thirty-three by

Vandyke, forty by Teniers, the same number by Rembrandt, six by Raphael,

and many other invaluable examples by famous masters.

Here are also preserved the private libraries that once belonged to

Zimmermann, Voltaire, and Diderot, besides those of several other

remarkable men of letters. There is a royal theatre under the same roof,

where plays used to be performed by amateurs from the court circles for

the gratification of the empress, the text of the plays being sometimes

written by herself. This royal lady indulged her fancy to the fullest

extent. On the roof of the Hermitage was created a marvellous garden

planted with choicest flowers, shrubs, and even trees of considerable

size, all together forming a grand floral conservatory which was heated

by subterranean fires in winter, and sheltered by a complete covering of

glass.

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