The Palace of Peterhoff is situated about sixteen miles from St.
Petersburg, on the shore of the Neva where the river expands to a width
of eight or ten miles. This place has always been celebrated for the
magnificent entertainments given here since the days when it was first
built by Peter the Great. The main structure has no special merit in
point of architecture, but the location and the surroundings are
extremely beautiful. From the terrace of the great yellow palace built
upon a natural elevation, one gets a fine though distant view of the
coast of Finland,--a portion of the Tzar's dominion which alone exceeds
in size Great Britain and Ireland, a wide-spread barren land of lakes
and granite rocks, but peopled by over two millions of souls. The parks,
gardens, fountains, hot-houses, groves, and embowered paths of Peterhoff
are kept in the most perfect order by a small army of household
attendants. The artificial water-works are after the style of those at
St. Cloud, and are nearly equal to those of Versailles.
Here the famous Peter used to retire and stroll about the gardens with
his humble favorite, a Polish girl, forgetting the cares of state. This
lowly companion, besides great personal beauty, possessed much force of
character, and exercised great influence over her melancholic and morose
master. Long before her final elevation to the throne, many instances
are related of her interference in behalf of mercy, which showed a kind
and loving nature. Peterhoff is the favorite summer resort of the royal
family.
The Tzar's dominion embraces every phase of religion and of
civilization. Portions of the empire are as barbaric as Central Africa,
others are semi-civilized, while a large share of the people inhabiting
the cities assume the highest outward appearance of refinement and
culture. This diversity of character spreads over a country extending
from the Great Wall of China on one side to the borders of Germany on
the other; from the Crimea in the south to the Polar Ocean in the far
north.
The distance from St. Petersburg to Moscow is about four hundred miles;
the cars upon this route take us directly towards the heart of Russia.
Thirty years ago there were but about eight hundred miles of railroad in
the country; to-day there are twenty thousand and more. On this trip one
passes through scenery of the most monotonous and melancholy character,
flat and featureless, made up of forests of fir-trees, interspersed with
the white birch, and long reaches of wide, deserted plains.
The forest forms a very prominent feature of Russia north of the line of
travel between the two great cities, covering in that region fully a
third part of the country; the largest forest in Europe is that of
Volskoniki, which commences near the source of the Volga. But to the
south of Moscow the vast plains, or steppes, are quite free from wood,
consisting merely of sandy deserts, unfit for habitation. No country is
more thinly inhabited or more wearisomely tame. Now and again a few
sheep are seen cropping the thin brown moss and straggling verdure,
tended by a boy clad in a fur cap and skin jacket, forming a strong
contrast to his bare legs and feet.
Though sparsely inhabited by fierce and active races for centuries, the
appearance is that of primitiveness; the log-cabins seem to be only
temporary expedients,--wooden tents, as it were. The men and women who
are seen at the railroad stations are of the Tartar type, the ugliest of
all humanity, with high cheekbones, flattened noses, dull gray eyes,
copper-colored hair, and bronzed complexions. Their food is not of a
character to develop much physical comeliness. The one vegetable which
the Russian peasant cultivates is cabbage; this, mixed with dried
mushrooms, and rarely anything else, makes a soup upon which he lives.
Add to this soup a porridge made of meal, and we have about the entire
substance of his regular food. If they produce some pork and corn,
butter and cheese, they are seldom indulged in for their own
subsistence, but are sold at the nearest market, as a certain amount of
ready money must be had when the tax-gatherer makes his annual visit. We
are speaking of the masses, but of course there are exceptions. Some
thrifty peasants manage much better than this. No other country is
richer in horses, mines of gold, silver, copper, and precious stones; or
in the useful articles of iron, lead, and zinc. Though the Russians are
famous for having large families, still the inhabitants average but
fifteen to the square mile, while in Germany there are eighty, and in
England over four hundred to the square mile.
Forests of such density as to be impenetrable to man frequently line the
railroad for many miles together, but the loneliness of the way is
relieved by occasional glimpses of wild-flowers scattered along the
roadside in great variety, diffusing indescribable freshness. Among them
now and again a tall scarlet poppy rears its gaudy head, nodding lazily
in the currents of air and leading us to wonder how it came here in such
company. A peculiar little blue flower is frequently observed with
yellow petals, seeming to look up from the surrounding nakedness and
desolation with the appealing expression of human eyes. Snow-white
daisies and delicate little harebells come into view at intervals,
struggling for a brief and lonely existence. The railroad stations are
beautified by floral displays of no mean character. It seems that
professional gardeners travel on the line, remaining long enough at each
place to organize the skilful culture of garden-plants by the keeper's
family during the few weeks of summer; but one shudders to think what
must be the aspect of this region during the long frost-locked Russian
winter.
On reaching the city of Tver, we cross, by a high iron bridge, the river
Volga,--one of the greatest in the world,--the Mississippi of Russia.
From this point the river is navigable for over two thousand miles to
Astrakhan. In a country so extensive and which possesses so small a
portion of seaboard, rivers have a great importance, and until the
introduction of railroads they formed nearly the only available means of
transportation. The canals, rivers, and lakes are no longer navigated by
barges drawn by horse-power. Steam-tugs and small passenger steamers now
tow great numbers of flat-boats of large capacity; and transportation by
this mode of conveyance is very cheap. The Volga is the largest river in
Europe. Measured through its entire windings it has a length of
twenty-four hundred miles from its rise in the Valdai Hills, five
hundred and fifty feet above sea-level, to its outlet into the Caspian
Sea. Many cities and thriving towns are situated upon its banks. At
Nijni-Novgorod it is joined by the Oka River. In addition to these
water-ways there are also the Obi, the Yenisee, the Lena, the Don, and
the Dnieper, all rivers of the first class, whose entire course from
source to mouth is within the Russian territory, saying nothing of the
several rivers tributary to these. Nor should we forget those frontier
rivers, the Danube, the Amoor, and the Oxus, all of which are auxiliary
to the great system of canals that connects the important rivers of the
empire. The Volga by this system communicates with the White Sea, the
Baltic, and the Euxine.
While we are narrating these interesting facts relating to the material
greatness of Russia, we are also approaching its ancient capital. It
stands upon a vast plain through which winds the Moskva River, from
which the city derives its name. The villages naturally become more
populous as we advance, and gilded domes and cupolas occasionally loom
up above the tree-tops on either side of the road, indicating a Greek
church here and there. As in approaching Cairo in Egypt, one sees first
and while far away the pyramids of Ghizeh, and afterwards the graceful
minarets and towers of the Oriental city gleaming through the golden
haze; so as we gradually emerge from the thinly inhabited Russian plains
and draw near the capital, first there comes into view the massive
towers of the Kremlin and the Church of Our Saviour with its golden
dome, followed by the hundreds of glittering steeples, belfries, towers,
and star-gilded domes of this extremely interesting and ancient city.
Though some of these religious temples have simply a cupola in the shape
of an inverted bowl, terminating in a gilded point capped by a cross and
crescent, few of them have less than five or six, and some have sixteen
superstructures of the most whimsical device, with gilded chains
depending from each apex and affixed at the base. A bird's-eye view of
Moscow is far more picturesque than that of St. Petersburg, the older
city being located upon very uneven ground, is in some places quite
hilly. St. Petersburg is European, while Moscow is Tartar. The latter
has been three times nearly destroyed: first by the Tartars in the
thirteenth century; next, by the Poles, in the seventeenth century; and
again at the time of the French invasion under Napoleon, in 1812. Still
it has sprung from its ashes each time as if by magic, and has never
lost its original character, being now a more splendid and prosperous
capital than ever before, rapidly increasing in population. The romantic
character of its history, so mingled with protracted wars, civil
conflicts, sieges, and conflagrations, makes it seem half fabulous. The
population is not much, if any less than that of St. Petersburg,--eight
hundred thousand,--while the territory which it covers measures over
twenty miles in circumference.
Moscow is to the Russian what Mecca is to the pious Moslem, and he calls
it by the endearing name of "mother." Like Kief and the Trortzkoi
(sacred monastery), it is the object of pious pilgrimage to thousands
annually, who come from long distances on foot.
The Kremlin, which crowns a hill, is the central point of the city, and
is enclosed by high walls, battlement rising upon battlement, flanked by
massive towers. The name is Tartar and signifies a fortress. As such it
is unequalled for its vastness, its historical associations, and the
wealth of its sanctuaries. It was founded five or six hundred years ago,
and is an enclosure studded with cathedrals, and embracing broad streets
and spacious squares,--a citadel and city within itself, being to
Moscow what the Acropolis was to Athens. The various buildings are a
strange conglomerate of architecture, including Tartar, Hindu, Chinese,
and Gothic exhibited in noble cathedrals, chapels, towers, convents, and
palaces. There are about twenty churches within the walls of the
Kremlin. The Cathedral of the Assumption is perhaps the most noteworthy,
teeming as it does with historic interest, and being filled with tombs
and pictures from its dark agate floor to the base of the vast cupola.
Here, from the time of Ivan the Great to that of the present Emperor,
the Tzars have all been crowned, and here Peter placed the royal
insignia upon the head of his second wife, the peasant-girl of Livonia.
The venerable walls of the Kremlin, which measure about two miles in
circumference, are pierced by five gates of an imposing character, to
each of which is attributed a religious or historical importance. Often
have invading hosts battered at these gates, and sometimes gained an
entrance; but, strange to say, they have always in the end been worsted
by the faithful Muscovites. Over the Redeemer's Gate, so called, is
affixed a wonder-working picture of the Saviour, which is an object of
great veneration. No one, not even the Emperor, passes beneath it
without removing his hat and bowing the head. A miracle is supposed to
have been wrought in connection with this picture of the Redeemer at the
time when the retreating French made a vain attempt to blow up the
Kremlin, and hence the special reverence given to it.
The most strikingly fantastic structure in Moscow is the Cathedral of
St. Basil, which is top-heavy with spires, domes, and minarets,
ornamented in the most irregular and unprecedented manner. Yet, as a
whole, the structure is not inharmonious with its unique
surroundings,--the semi-Oriental, semi-barbaric atmosphere in which it
stands. It is not within the walls of the Kremlin, but is just outside,
near the Redeemer's Gate, from which point the best view of it may be
enjoyed. No two of its towering projections are alike, either in height,
shape, or ornamentation. The coloring throughout is as various as the
shape, being in yellow, green, blue, red, gilt, and silver. Each spire
and dome has its glittering cross; and when the sun shines upon the
group, it is in effect like the bursting of a rocket at night, against a
dark blue background.
In front of this many-domed cathedral is a circular stone whence the
Tzars of old were accustomed to proclaim their edicts; and it is also
known as "The Place of the Scull," because of the many executions which
have taken place upon it. Ivan the Terrible rendered the spot infamous
by the series of executions which he ordered to take place here, the
victims being mostly innocent of any crimes. Here Prince Scheviref was
impaled by order of this same tyrant, and here several other members of
the royal family were ruthlessly put to death after being barbarously
tortured.
The treasury of the Kremlin, erected so late as 1851, is a historical
museum of crowns, thrones, state costumes, and regalia generally;
including in the latter department the royal robes of Peter the Great as
well as his crown, in which there are about nine hundred diamonds; and
that of his widow Catharine I., which contains three thousand of these
precious stones. One comes away from the labyrinth of palaces, churches,
arsenals, museums, and the treasury, after viewing their accumulation of
riches, quite dazed and surfeited. To examine the latter properly
requires more than a single day. It is a marvel of accumulated riches,
including the crowns of many now defunct kingdoms, such as those of
Kazan, Georgia, Astrakhan, and Poland,--all heavy with precious stones.
The crown jewels of England and Germany combined would not equal in
value these treasures. The most venerable of the crowns is that of
Monomachus, brought from Byzantium more than eight hundred years ago.
This emblem is covered with jewels of the choicest character, among
which are steel-white diamonds and rubies of pigeon's-blood hue, such as
are rarely obtainable in our day.
While viewing the many attractions of Moscow one is apt to recall a page
from history and remember the heroic, self-sacrificing means which the
people of this Asiatic city adopted to repel the invading and victorious
enemy. It was an act of sublime desperation to place the torch within
the sanctuary of Russia and destroy all, sacred and profane, so that the
enemy should also be destroyed. It was the grandest sacrifice ever made
to national honor by any people. "Who would have thought that a nation
would burn its own capital?" said Napoleon.
Strangers are hardly prepared to find Moscow so great a manufacturing
centre, more than fifty thousand of the population being regularly
employed in manufacturing establishments. There are over a hundred
cotton mills within the limits of the city, between fifty and sixty
woollen mills, over thirty silk mills, and other kindred establishments,
though enterprise in this direction is mostly confined to textile
fabrics. The city is fast becoming the centre of a great railroad
system, affording the means of rapid and easy distribution for the
several products of these mills.
The favorite seat of learning is the Moscow University, founded by
Peter the Great in 1755, its four principal faculties being those of
history, physics, jurisprudence, and medicine. It is a State
institution, and has at this time some two thousand students. The terms
of admission as regards cost to the pupils are merely nominal, the
advantages being open to all youth above seventeen who can pass a
satisfactory examination. Here, also, is another large and valuable
library open at all times to the public, containing over two hundred
thousand well-chosen volumes. This liberal multiplication of educational
advantages in the very heart of Oriental Russia is an indisputable
evidence of progressive civilization.
One is struck by the multitude of pigeons seen in and about the city.
They are held in great reverence by the common people, and no Russian
will harm them. Indeed, they are as sacred here as monkeys in Benares,
or doves in Venice, being considered emblems of the Holy Ghost and under
protection of the Church. They wheel about in large blue flocks through
the air, so dense as to cast shadows, like swift-moving clouds,
alighting fearlessly where they choose, to share the beggar's crumbs or
the rich man's bounty. It is a notable fact that this bird was also
considered sacred by the old Scandinavians, who believed that for a
certain period after death the soul of the deceased assumed this form to
visit and watch the behavior of the mourners.
Beggary is sadly prevalent in the streets of Moscow, the number of
maimed and wretched-looking human beings recalling the same scenes in
Spain and Italy, especially in the former country, where beggary seems
to be the occupation of one-third of the people.