We must travel by railway three hundred miles further towards the centre
of the empire and in a northerly direction, to reach Nijni Novgorod,
that is, Lower Novgorod, being so called to distinguish it from the
famous place of the same name located on the Volkhov, and known as
Novgorod the Great. This journey is made in the night, and the cars,
which are supposed to afford sleeping accommodations, are furnished with
reclining chairs only. However, we get along very well, and fatigue is
pretty sure to make one sleep soundly, notwithstanding the want of
inviting conveniences. Having arrived at Nijni-Novgorod early in the
morning, we find it to be a peculiar city. The residence of the governor
of the district, the courts of law, and the citadel are within the
Kremlin, where there is also a fine monument to the memory of Mininn and
Pojarski, the two patriots who liberated the country from the Poles in
1612.
The Kremlin, like that at Moscow, is situated on an elevation
overlooking the town and the broad valley of the Volga. As we view the
scene, a vast alluvial plain is spread out before the eye, covered with
fertile fields and thrifty woods, through which from northwest to
southeast flows the river, like a silver thread upon a verdant ground,
extending from horizon to horizon. On this river, the main artery of
Central Russia, are seen scores of swift-moving steamers, while a forest
of shipping is gathered about the wharves of the lower town, and also
upon the Oka River, which here joins the Volga. From this outlook we
count over two hundred steamers in sight at the same time, all
side-wheelers and clipper-built, drawn hither by the exigencies of the
local trade growing out of the great annual fair. The first of these
steamboats was built in the United States and transported to Russian
waters, since which it has served as a model to builders, who have
furnished many hundreds for river service.
The flat-boats or barges, which have been towed hither by the steamers
from various distances, having been unloaded, are anchored in a shallow
bend of the river, where they cover an area of a mile square. On most of
these barges entire families live, it being their only home; and
wherever freight is to be transported, thither they go; whether it is
towards the Ural Mountains or the Caspian Sea, it is all the same to
them: the Arabs of the desert are not more roving than they.
The Volga has a course of twenty-four hundred, and the Oka of eight
hundred and fifty miles. As the Missouri and the Mississippi rivers have
together made St. Louis in this country, so these two rivers have made
Nijni-Novgorod. This great mart lies at the very centre of the water
communication which joins the Caspian and the Black seas to the Baltic
and the White seas; besides which, it has direct railroad connection
with Moscow, and thence with all Eastern Europe. The Volga and its
tributaries pour into its lap the wealth of the Ural Mountains and that
of the vast region of Siberia and Central Asia. It thus becomes very
apparent why and how this ancient city is the point of business contact
between European industry and Asiatic wealth.
The attraction which draws most travellers so far into the centre of
Russia, lies in the novelty of the great annual fair held here for a
period of about eight weeks, and which gathers together for the time
being some two hundred thousand people, traders and spectators,
merchants and rogues, who come from the most distant provinces and
countries of Asia, as well as from immediate regions round about. The
variety of merchandise brought hither is something to astonish one.
Jewelry of such beauty and fashion as would grace the best stores of
Paris is here offered for sale, beside the cheapest ornaments
manufactured by the bushel-basketful at Birmingham, England. Choice old
silverware is exposed along with iron sauce-pans, tin dippers, and cheap
crockery--variety and incongruity, gold and tinsel, everywhere side by
side. There is an abundance of iron and copper from the Urals, dried
fish in tall piles from the Caspian, tea from China, cotton from India,
silk and rugs from Persia, heavy furs and sables from Siberia, wool in
the raw state from Cashmere, together with the varied products of the
trans-Caucasian provinces, even including droves of wild horses. Fancy
goods are here displayed from England as well as from Paris and Vienna,
toys from Nuremberg, ornaments of jade and lapis-lazuli from Kashgar,
precious stones from Ceylon, and gems from pearl-producing Penang.
Variety, indeed! Then what a conglomerate of odors permeates
everything,--boiled cabbage, coffee, tea, and tanned leather,--dominated
by the all-pervading musk; but all this is quite in consonance with the
queer surroundings which meet the eye, where everything presents itself
through an Oriental haze.
If any business purpose actuates the visitor, let him keep his wits
about him, and, above all, remain cool, for it requires an effort not to
be confused by the ceaseless buzzing of such a crowded hive of human
beings. Sharpers are not unrepresented here, but may be seen in full
force seeking to take advantage of every opportunity for imposition, so
that many who come hither thrive solely by dishonesty. It is a sort of
thieves' paradise--and Asiatic thieves are marvellously expert. Most of
these are itinerants, having no booths, tables, or fixtures, except a
satchel or box hung about their necks, from which they offer trifling
articles at low prices, a specious disguise under which to prosecute
their real design.
The period of great differences in prices at localities wide apart has,
generally speaking, passed away, and nearly everywhere the true value of
things is known. Circumstances may favor sellers and buyers by turns,
but intrinsic values are fixed all over the world. Nothing is found
especially cheap at this great Russian-Asiatic fair except such articles
as no one wants, though occasionally a dealer who is particularly
anxious to get cash will offer his goods at a low price to effect the
desired sale. The Tartar merchant from the central provinces of Asia
knows the true worth of his goods, though in exchange he pays liberal
prices for Parisian and English luxuries. Gems which are offered so
abundantly here can only be bought at somewhat near to their just value
in the markets of the world. All the tricks of trade are known and
resorted to at these gatherings. The merchant begins by demanding a
price ridiculously above the amount for which he is willing to sell. No
dealer has a fixed price at Nijni-Novgorod. The Asiatic enjoys
dickering--it is to him the very life of his occupation, and adds zest,
if not profit, to his business transactions.
It is curious to watch the various features, the physical development,
the dress, manners, customs, and languages of the throng. It would be
impossible to convey an idea of the ceaseless Babel of noise which
prevails;--the cries designating certain goods, the bartering going on
in shrill voices, the laughter mingled with sportive exclamations, and
the frequent disputes which fill the air. But there is no actual
quarrelling; the Russian police are too vigilant, too much feared, too
summary for that. Open violence is instantly suppressed, and woe betide
the culprit!
Such is this unique fair, which presents one of the rude and ancient
Eastern forms of trade--a form which was once also prevalent throughout
Europe, but now rapidly disappearing by the introduction of railroads,
even in the East. The glory of Nijni-Novgorod is already beginning to
wane; but it would seem that the fair still represents all the gayest
features of the olden time, having been held here annually since 1366,
tradition pointing even to an earlier date.
The large and populous city formed here, though so temporary, is divided
into long and broad streets lined with booths, shops, restaurants,
tents, and even minor theatres, while the wharves of the rivers are
crowded with bales of rags, grain, hides, skins, casks of wine, madder,
and cotton. The total value of the goods disposed of at these annual
fairs is estimated as high as eighty million dollars. It is the only
notable gathering of the sort now to be seen in Russia. With the close
of the day business is mostly laid aside, dancing-girls appear in the
cafés, and rude musical instruments are brought forth, each nationality
amusing itself after its own fashion. Strange and not inharmonious airs
fall upon the ear, supplemented by songs, the words of which are
utterly unintelligible, except to the circle of participants. The whole
scene forms a strange picture, as parti-colored as Harlequin's costume,
while the whole is watched by the ever-present Russian police.
A couple of days at the fair serves to acquaint us sufficiently with all
of its peculiarities, and we return to the ancient capital of the empire
by night train.
It is a long and rather dreary journey from Moscow to Warsaw, in Russian
Poland, the distance being some seven hundred miles by rail, and the
route very monotonous. The country through which we pass is heavily
wooded, and affords some attractive sport to foreigners, who resort here
especially for wolf-shooting. In the summer season these creatures are
seldom dangerous to men, except when they go mad, which, in fact, they
are rather liable to do. When in this condition, they rush through field
and forest, heedless of hunters, dogs, or aught else, biting every
creature they meet, and such victims are pretty sure to die of
hydrophobia. The wolves are at all seasons more or less destructive to
small domestic stock, and sometimes in the severity of a hard winter
they will gather in large numbers and attack human beings, though as a
rule they are timid and keep out of the way of men. There are also some
desirable game-birds in these forests. The wild bison still exists here,
though it is forbidden to shoot them, as they are considered to belong
to the Crown. If they were not fed by man during the long winters, they
would surely starve.
In the last portion of this journey the country puts on a more agreeable
aspect. The beautiful lavender color of the flax-fields interspersed
with the peach-bloom of broad, level acres of buckwheat, produces a
pleasant and thrifty aspect. These fields are alternated by miles of
intensely green oats, rye, and other cereals. No finer display of
growing grain is to be found, except in Western America. The hay-makers,
in picturesque groups, are busy along the line of the railroad as we
pass, nine-tenths of them being women. The borders of Poland exhibit a
scene of great fertility and successful agricultural enterprise. As we
cross the frontier, a difference in the dress of the common people
becomes noticeable. Men no longer wear red shirts outside of their
pantaloons, and scarlet disappears from the dress of the women, giving
place to more subdued hues. The stolid, square faces of the Russian
peasantry are replaced by a more intelligent cast of features, while
many representatives of the Jewish race begin to appear, especially
about the railway stations, where they offer trifling articles for sale.
The dwelling-houses which now come into view are of a superior class to
those left behind in Russia proper. Log cabins disappear entirely, and
thatched roofs are rarely seen; good, substantial frame houses
appropriately painted become numerous. Small, trim flower-plats are seen
fenced in, adjoining the dwellings. Lines of beehives find place near
these cheerful homes, where the surroundings generally are suggestive of
thrift and industry.
In passing through Poland the country presents almost one unbroken plain
admirably adapted to agriculture, so much so that it has been called the
granary of Europe. The Polish peasants are extremely ignorant, if
possible even more so than the Russians proper of the same class; but
they are a fine-looking race, strongly built, tall, active, and well
formed. There are schools in the various districts, but the Polish
language is forbidden to be taught in them: only the Russian tongue is
permitted. The peasantry have pride enough to resist this arbitrary
measure in the only way which is open to them; that is, by keeping their
children out of the schools. Education not being compulsory here as it
is in Norway and Sweden, little benefit is consequently derived from the
schools. With a view to utterly obliterate the Polish language it is
even made a penal offence by Russian law to use it in commercial
transactions.
The Polish peasantry as a whole are by no means a prepossessing race.
Naturally dull, they are furthermore demoralized and degraded by a love
of spirituous liquors, these being unfortunately both cheap and potent.
As regards the nationality of Poland, her fate is certainly decided for
many years to come, if, indeed, it be not settled for all time.
Dismembered as she is, every new generation must amalgamate her more and
more completely with the three powers who have appropriated her
territory and divided the control of her people among them. We continue
to speak of Poland as a distinct country, though the name is all that
remains of its ancient independence. The map of Europe has long since
been reconstructed in this region,--Austria, Germany, and Russia coolly
absorbing the six millions of Poles, Warsaw becoming thus the capital of
Russian Poland.
We enter the city by the Praga suburb, crossing the lofty iron bridge
which here stretches over the Vistula, nearly two thousand feet in
length.
The city extends about six miles along the left bank of the Vistula, and
upon very high ground. The river is navigable at most seasons of the
year, extending the whole length of Poland from north to south, its
source being the Carpathian Mountains, and its mouth at Dantzig. The
city covers a great surface in proportion to the number of inhabitants,
and is enclosed by ramparts pierced by ten gates, all being defended by
a strong castle of modern construction. The fortifications are kept at
all times up to a war standard, and are very complete in the department
of modern artillery. The city has nearly half a million inhabitants,
one-third of whom are Jews, who monopolize the main branches of trade.
From the top of the railway station in the Praga district one gets an
admirable view. On the opposite side of the river is seen the citadel,
the oldest portion of the town, with its narrow streets and lofty
houses, the castle and its beautiful gardens, as well as the newer
section of the city, including the public promenade and groves about the
royal villa of Lazienki. Viewed from Praga, as it slopes upward, the
effect of the city is very pleasing, and a closer examination of its
churches, former palaces, and fine public buildings confirms the
favorable impression. This view should be supplemented by one of a
bird's-eye character to be obtained from the cupola of the Lutheran
Church, which more clearly reveals the several large squares and main
arteries, bordered by graceful lime-trees.
In spite of its misfortunes, Warsaw ranks to-day as the third city in
importance as well as population in the Russian Empire. It was not made
the capital of Poland until 1566, when it succeeded Cracow. It is now
the residence of a viceroy representing the Emperor of Russia, and the
place is strongly garrisoned by the soldiers of the Tzar. War and
devastation have deprived it of many of its national and patriotic
monuments, but its squares are still ornamented with numerous admirable
statues, and with a grand array of fine public buildings. In the square
of the royal castle there is a colossal bronze statue of Sigismund III.;
in another quarter a bronze statue of Copernicus is found. It will be
remembered that he was a Pole by birth and was educated at Cracow, his
name being Latinized from Kopernik. There is a thirteenth century
cathedral close by, whose pure Gothic contrasts strongly with the Tartar
style which we have so lately left behind in Russia. This old church is
very gray and crumbling, very dirty, and very offensive to the sense of
smell, partly accounted for by obvious causes, since about the doors,
inside and out, swarm a vile-smelling horde of ragged men, women, and
children, sad and pitiful to behold.
Here we find the finest public buildings and most elegant residences
strangely mingled with wooden hovels; magnificence and squalor side by
side, inexorably jumbled together. No other city in all Europe has so
many private palaces and elegant mansions as may be seen in an hour's
stroll about Warsaw; but the architecture is often gaudy and in bad
taste. Here for centuries there were but two classes or grades of
society; namely, the noble, and the peasant. A Polish noble was by law a
person who possessed a freehold estate, and who could prove his descent
from ancestors formerly possessing a freehold, who followed no trade or
commerce, and who was at liberty to choose his own habitation. This
description, therefore, included all persons who were above the rank of
tradesmen or peasants.
The "Avenues" is the popular drive and promenade of the citizens of
Warsaw. It is bordered by long lines of trees, and surrounded by elegant
private residences. Here also are inviting public gardens where popular
entertainments are presented, and where cafés dispense ices, favorite
drinks, and other refreshments. The Botanical Gardens are close at hand,
forming a pleasant resort for the lovers of floral beauty. Just beyond
these gardens is the Lazienki Park, containing the suburban palace built
by King Stanislaus Poniatovski in the middle of the last century, and
which is now the temporary residence of the Emperor of Russia when he
visits Warsaw. These grounds are very spacious, affording complete
seclusion and shady drives. Though it so closely adjoins the city, it
has the effect of a wild forest of ancient trees. The royal villa stands
in the midst of a stately grove, surrounded by graceful fountains, tiny
lakes, and delightful flower-gardens. There are some fine groups of
marble statuary picturesquely disposed among the tropical plants.
One is hardly prepared to see so much commercial prosperity and rapidity
of growth as is evinced in Warsaw. In matters of current business and
industrial affairs it appears to be in advance of St. Petersburg. The
large number of distilleries and breweries are unpleasantly suggestive
of the intemperate habits of the people. The political division of
Poland, to which we have referred, was undoubtedly a great outrage on
the part of the three powers who confiscated her territory, but it has
certainly resulted in decided benefit as regards the interests of the
common people. There are those who see in the fate of Poland that
retributive justice which Heaven metes out to nations as well as to
individuals. In past ages she was a country ever aggressive upon her
neighbors, and it was not until she was sadly torn and weakened by
internal dissensions that Catharine II. first invaded her territory.
Nine-tenths of the populace were no better than slaves, in much the
same condition as the Russian serfs before the late emancipation took
place. They were acknowledged retainers, owing their service to, and
holding their farms at the option of the upper class; namely, the
so-called nobility of the country. This overmastering class prided
itself on the fact of neither promoting nor being engaged in any kind of
business; indeed, this uselessness was one condition attached to its
patent of nobility. These autocratic rulers knew no other interest or
occupation than that of the sword. War and devastation constituted their
profession, while the common people for ages reaped the fruit of famine
and slaughter. Even in what were called times of peace, the court and
nobles were constantly engaged in intrigues and quarrels. However hard
these reflections may seem, they are substantiated by historical facts,
and are frankly admitted by the intelligent citizens of Warsaw to-day.
That there is shameful despotism exercised by the present ruling powers
all must allow; but that peace, individual liberty, and great commercial
prosperity now reign in Poland is equally obvious. In the days which are
popularly denominated those of Polish independence the nobility were
always divided into bitter factions. Revolutions were as frequent as
they are to-day in South America or Mexico, and the strongest party
disposed of the crown, ruling amid tumult and bloodshed.