The most sacred of all these minor chapels is the Iversky Virgin,
situated at the gate. The exterior walls are made of imitation
malachite; the roof is a sky-blue cupola spangled with gilt stars. The
facade is panelled with paintings of saints, framed in embossed brass;
in front is a platform raised three steps from the ground. The number of
worshipers and visitors to this shrine are so many it was found
necessary to make the steps of iron. When the Czar arrives at Moscow,
the first thing he does is to worship at the shrine. Another interesting
church is that of Vasseli Blagemor, which occupies one end of the place
with its bouquet of fantastic cupolas and spires built by order of Ivan
the Terrible. This church is considered unusual because there are two
chapels in the basement. Above are nine chapels. The interior glitters
with hundreds of brass tapers that are always lighted. The image, which
is the usual Byzantine type, is a dark brown color. It has a big jewel
on the brow, another in each shoulder and a net of real pearls on the
brow. Because of the many styles of architecture and the many chapels,
this is considered the most original church in the world. The belfry
building is a curious mixture of styles. The tower is Arabian and
Byzantine, with a suggestion of Indian on the fourth story.
The palace is in the form of a square. The state apartments are
particularly rich and are in good taste. The hall of St. George is 200
feet by 65 wide and 58 high. The handsomest of the state apartments is
the banqueting hall. The ceiling is splendidly decorated and the windows
richly draped. The hall is large enough to accommodate 200 guests. The
service is wonderfully beautiful; most of the food is served in gold
vessels.
Not far off is the Tower of Ivan Veliki, which serves as a campanile for
three cathedrals and has thirty-four bells. The largest is 65 feet in
circumference.
The city is ornamented profusely with statues and triumphal arches; the
most splendid is the Arch of Triumph. This is made of marble and is
surmounted by a beautifully carved statue of Liberty, while the arch is
ornamented with handsome bas reliefs.
Moscow has a number of attractive suburbs. One of these is Ostaukea; it
is well laid out and has many handsome buildings. This place is
especially well known for the splendid churches made of stone and
marble.
Moscow, beside having a great deal that is beautiful, is interesting
because the old and new meet in an unusual, almost grotesque, fashion.
They are not apart, as in Paris, London and many other European
capitals. They jog hand in hand as unevenly as the streets on which they
stand.
The traveler to whom St. Petersburg is unknown, imagines the city as
ancient, picturesque and irregular. But it is laid out as regularly as
many American cities. It is an ancient city, dressed in a new guise. It
is situated along the Neva, with many modern buildings and parks on the
one side, churches and old buildings on the other.
The location of the city is not attractive; it is built on several
islands in the delta. The ground is so low in many places that the
buildings have to be raised on piles. This morass was changed into a
splendid city by Peter the Great, who was insistent that he was going to
train himself and his people to a fondness for the sea. As a child he
had been frightened by the sudden rushing of a cascade, and for years he
could not see water without trembling and fear. When he was grown, he
said, "I shall build St. Petersburg here without bridges, that our
people may be constantly on the waters of the Neva, crossing and
recrossing." Since this time the city has grown and expanded greatly,
and bridges are a necessity. The St. Nicholas is a large, massive, stone
structure built on huge, granite piers. Three other bridges are large
floating structures which span the river in the summer, but are removed
as soon as the river is frozen.
On one side of the river are many pleasant summer homes and cottages
surrounded by beautiful flowering gardens. On the other side are the
barracks and the poorer part of the city.
Most of the public buildings are placed in a public square, so they are
seen with little difficulty. At one end is the large senate and synod;
before it stands the colossal equestrian statue of Peter the Great. To
the south of the Admiralty, the most important part of the city is seen,
the Bolshar Storma or Greater Side. Towards the west lies the Basilius
Island with the large splendid exchange, the important Academy of
Sciences and the university.
The city is divided into four large divisions, separated by the Great
and Little Neva and by the Great Nefka. The great side includes the
court, the nobility and nearly half the population. Here many of the
best streets and some of the handsomest residences are seen. The streets
are broad and well paved. Here are spacious and well-built houses, while
beyond are a succession of magnificent palaces. This need not sound
strange, as there are no European cities having so many princes and
palaces. Even the dwellings of the poor have a showy magnificence about
them. Everything is built on a gigantic scale. It is not unusual to
find a house occupied by two hundred families, but they are not built
high, two stories being the average height. Building a home in this city
is usually an expensive affair. The driving of the stakes alone often
costs hundreds of dollars.
But the palaces of the princes and nobility are usually as beautiful as
the other homes are plain and unattractive. Here are found richly
hand-carved furniture, splendid jade and malachite vases. There is so
much of everything that it is really overpowering. The royal palaces are
large and furnished at great cost. The Annitschoff palace is inhabited
more by the present imperial family than the Tauride palace. The former
stands on the great Pr'pektin, the neighborhood of the Fontanka, and
closes the brilliant range of palaces in the street. It was originally
built by Elizabeth. Some years ago it was bought as one of the Emperor's
abodes. It is handsomely built, though it has no historic significance.
A part of the court are usually here in residence, and it is here that
the Emperor holds many of his most important councils. Those who saw the
Winter Palace before the fire recall the mass of wealth devoured by the
conflagration. In six hours priceless furniture, ornaments and rare
pictures were destroyed.
The Hermitage is the San Souci of St. Petersburg. This was built by
Catherine and used for her retreat after her work and that of her
courtiers was done for the day. This palace is surrounded by beautiful
shade forests, refreshed by fountains and pleasant grottoes. On cool
days concerts and theatricals were given within the palace, while in the
warm weather these were held out of doors; beautiful music and rare
voices resounded through the forest then.
The people in Russia do not object to the cold, uninviting houses.
Pleasant days bring thousands into the streets below. The Nevsky
Prospect is a splendid street that intersects all the rings of the city.
It winds its way between the handsome residences, pierces the Chamber of
Commerce and touches the poorest parts of the city. Here all types of
Russian life are seen, from the proudest nobility, driving in their
auto-cars and handsome carriages, to the poorest peasants living in one
of those immense, densely crowded apartment buildings. The scene in this
portion of the street at about midday may challenge comparison with any
street in the world, and the spectacle is enhanced by the magnificence
of the decorations. Besides the handsome residences, there are many
large shops and cafés offering recreation to the crowds promenading up
and down.
St. Petersburg has a number of large summer gardens, which are an
adornment to the city and offer a pleasant rest to thousands in warm
weather. The Summer Garden is the largest and most attractive of these.
Everywhere are the large, well-shaded benches, thronged with matrons,
while the children play in the sand and catch their balls. On one side
of the Summer Garden is the Tzariziuski Lug, or Field of Mars. Now these
resorts are well nigh destitute of men.
There are a number of buildings in St. Petersburg that are worth
noticing. Of these the Exchange is certainly the most prominent. It
stands on the farthest point of Vassili Ostroff, with a large open space
before it, and it is reared on an elevated foundation. The granite quays
on either side give solidity, while a long flight of granite steps leads
down to the river. The space before the building is decorated with two
immense columns, supporting the prows of ships cast in metal and erected
to the memory of Mercury. The building is of immense proportions and
took twelve years to build. The great hall is lighted from above, while
at either end and on both sides are spaces in the forms of arcades.
There is an altar at one end, and a light is always kept burning for the
pious merchants, who offer up a prayer before they commence the
undertakings of the day.
The Hermitage Museum is a veritable treasure prison; there is a large
picture gallery, one of the finest and most celebrated in Europe. The
collection includes a large number of Dutch cottages, such as Van de
Meer and Ostada painted.
The gallery is equally rich in the old Italian and French masters. A
most interesting part of the collection are the treasures that were once
housed at Malmaison. When the Emperor Alexander was in Paris, he visited
the divorced consort of Napoleon, who spoke of the property that
remained to her and the insecurity of the possession. To protect it
until it could be reclaimed, Emperor Alexander bought the treasure and
took it to Russia.
The Foundling Hospital is another of the public institution of which the
people are justly proud. Though Russian, it is under German supervision.
The place is extremely large; this is necessary, for it is never without
5,000 or 6,000 children. The principal buildings are in St. Petersburg,
where the children are kept a few weeks. They are then sent to the
peasantry in the country, where they remain until they are six years
old. The girls return to St. Petersburg, while there is a branch for the
boys at Gatshina. The building at St. Petersburg is much more of a
palace than a foundling home. The main building is composed of what was
formerly the palace of Prince Bohinski and Count Rasumoffski.
When the children are grown they are relieved from all obligations
toward the institution. The boys are easily provided with positions in
the trades' and imperial factories; the girls are given positions as
teachers and governesses.
Though St. Petersburg has fewer churches than Moscow, it has churches of
all denominations and every style of architecture. Here are seen
Grecian, Byzantine, old Russian, new European architecture and what not.
The handsomest of these is St. Isaac's Church. The church is large and
imposing without. Inside it has many handsome decorations, costly
pictures of saints and gold crosses.
The roof is supported by granite monoliths from Finland, buried for
centuries in deep swamps. They are crowned with capitals of bronze and
support the enormous beam of a frieze formed of six polished blocks. But
the cupola is the crowning glory to all this splendor. It is made of
copper and overlaid with gold that glitters like the sun on a mountain.
The Russian capital is most attractive on a pleasant summer evening. The
scene presented by the Exchange, the university buildings, the Academy
of Arts, the Corps de Cadets and the Academy of Sciences, surrounded as
they are with well-kept greensward and splendid flower beds, present an
inviting appearance. The river is lined with sailing craft of nearly
every description, devoted to pleasure. It has several fine steam yachts
which are used by members of the club for making trips up the gulf. On a
summer's evening as one sits on the balcony of the English Club or
strolls up the quay, listening to the band in the garden of the Summer
Palace, the swift-moving passengers in their gayly trimmed barks made a
pretty sight against the splendid buildings and gilded spires of the
churches.
Not all the beauty of St. Petersburg lies in this one island. The city
is in a delta and is surrounded by a whole chain of islands. The wildest
and least inhabited is Neva, visited principally by seals and wolves.
Then there are the Volny Islands, the Truktanoff Islands, and some
others. These are swampy and overgrown with birch and scarcely known by
name to many Russians. They contain magazines and are used for powder
and other stores. The most interesting of these are the Gardens Islands,
which at one time were covered with scrubs, but Alexander and Nicholas
saw in them possibilities for raising flowers, and they have gradually
been transformed into splendid islands. Yelagin belongs almost
exclusively to the court; it is occupied by a château and beautiful
gardens. The court live here in the spring and early summer, when the
gardens blaze with brilliant colors. The houses are certainly modest
looking. The most interesting feature is that they are built on the bank
of the rivers and in different styles of architecture; one Gothic, a
second Italian and a third Chinese. The hothouses are wonderfully
supplied with cut and exotic plants and the peasants' cottages are
filled with splendid window boxes.
CHRISTMAS WITHOUT A SANTA CLAUS
Have you ever stopped to think what Christmas would mean with no
Christmas tree nor Santa Claus? Still, this year many thousand children
will have a heavy heart instead of a happy Christmas tree. Many
thousands have lost their fathers in war and their homes have been
destroyed.
Many others have their fathers at war, and the mothers, with their large
families of children, are struggling from day to day to keep the wolf
from the door. Deprived of many necessities, they cannot enjoy the
cheapest luxuries. Under the inspiration of some of our newspaper
publishers, a Xmas ship was fitted out with toys of every description,
including dolls, baby-buggies, cradles, games, books and finery and sent
to the children of every land. This number includes the French, English,
Belgians, Germans, etc.
These gifts are not enough to make every child happy, but they will do
much to ease the heartaches and disappointments.
There are few countries where Christmas has as much significance as it
does in Germany. For Germany is the home of the fir-tree, and the finest
of these are kept for the winter holidays. In the late fall you see a
great many of the woodmen out in the woods laying low the fir-trees. A
few weeks later they have been shipped in great wagon-loads into every
German city and town.
For many months the many toy-makers are busy making doll's houses,
kitchens, kitchen utensils, dishes, a large variety of building-blocks
and those puzzles and games that have made the toy-makers of Nuremburg
and the city of Nuremburg famous. In the homes busy mothers are working
day and night making Leppkincuhen, tarts, cakes, cookies, etc. The extra
minutes are filled hurrying to the grocers to buy candles, fruits and
nuts for the tree.
These are all preliminaries for the dressing of the tree, which is
beautifully decorated with many candles, shimmering balls, small
ornaments, figured candies, stockings jammed full with fruits and
candies. Then the children get out their presents which they have bought
and made for their parents, brothers and sisters, and these are
dedicated to the tree.
The children are warned if they play unfair and try to see Santa Claus
he will punish them by taking their toys away, and perhaps he may never
come to see them again.
Though in most Christmas homes the trees are trimmed several days ahead
of time, it is on Christmas eve that the children gather to sing their
favorite airs, such as "O Tannenbaum," and to say their prayers. Then
the father makes an address to Santa Claus, reminding him of those that
have been good and suggesting, when necessary, that there might be an
improvement in the behavior of some of the children. The children are
then allowed to see the tree arrayed in all its glory. They dance around
the tree for some time, and suddenly every one appears to hold his
breath.
For Santa Claus appears, dressed in his heavy traveling-coat, with his
fur cap pulled down over his head and jingling his bells as he comes
along. The servants, where there are not too many, come in to join in
the festivities and get their presents from the trees. If there are
relatives or friends who have no Christmas trees of their own they are
often invited to join in the merry-making. The tree is kept lit for
three or four days, and is looked upon as an emblem of good fortune and
cheer. They gaze and gaze upon this brilliantly lit tree, brilliant with
light, festive with frost, silver, gold and many colored globes, as
though it had been waved into the room by some beautiful little fairy.
Joy hangs on every branch, a bright glow comes from hundreds of tips.
Though the absence of the Christmas tree is the greatest grief to the
children, the loss is heightened by the neglect of Santa Claus. This old
man is so grieved by this awful carnage and slaughter that he even
forgets his obligations to his children of many lands. Many million
children all the way from Norway to Japan will miss the fellow with that
great beard, his mischievous smile, and bushy eyebrows, half covered by
the cap pulled down over his eyes.
The children of Belgium will miss him as much as will the Germans.
Though the Christmas tree is scarce in Belgium, Santa Claus is greatly
beloved by them. Weeks before his coming the children are busy writing
him letters telling him all about their good deeds, their wishes and
their hopes, that they will not be neglected. The parents work hard to
keep his coming a secret, but their little ones are so impatient they
struggle to keep awake nights seeing what Santa Claus intends to bring
them. Once in a great while they see him climbing down the chimneys,
putting their toys before the grate and piling them high in their
stockings. The parents make a hard fight to see that their children are
remembered with some simple gift, for they know that their children are
heartbroken if they are neglected altogether. An English author, S. R.
Littlewood, tells the following story about a Belgium child's grief
because she had been neglected by Santa Claus, the story of the poor
widow and her daughter Julie: "It was Christmas Eve, but there was no
Christmas party, no cakes and toys and imps, for they were penniless and
starving. They had wandered through the snow all day and there was no
one who would help. Weary and forlorn, numbed with the cold and fainting
with hunger, they came back to their bare little attic with its broken
windows, its hard pallet bed. But Julie kept up a brave heart. She had
not lost faith. She, like the other children, would hang out her torn
stocking. This she did and she prayed that Santa Claus would not forget;
and while her mother slept she lay awake, wondering whether after all
Santa Claus would come. She waited and waited, and sometimes she grew
afraid, and even the sound of her breath startled her in the darkness
and the silence. But it seemed that Santa Claus would never come. The
old stocking hung limp and empty. As night wore on the air grew keener.
The wind blew through the roof above her head, she could see a star
shining. As it twinkled there alone in the far off depths of the sky, it
seemed to be flashing her a message--a message of hope. Never had she
seen so beautiful a star. Whilst she lay gazing it seemed to grow larger
and more glorious. Could it be that it was coming nearer? At last it
seemed to be close at hand--to fill the whole sky with light that
streamed through the little gap above her and made a splendor even in
that wretched garret. And now she sees that it is not really a star, but
a little company of angels winging their way together to earth. In the
midst is a chariot, drawn by white horses with wings and postillioned by
a cherubim, and in the chariot--yes, it is Santa Claus. Just over the
house the chariot and its escort stopped, the rent in the roof widened
and Santa Claus came down. Gently, lovingly as a father, he took Julie
in his arms, wrapped her in his great furred coat, set her in the
chariot beside him and with the throng of angels soared heavenward
again, and the rustle of their wings was like the music of the wind. All
the while the poor widow was sleeping, and when she awoke in the morning
she found the stocking still empty and the form of her little daughter
lying by her side--but it was cold and still. The poor widow kissed the
lifeless lips and closed the tired eyes, which even yet gazed upward to
where, through the roof, a tiny star could be seen, faintly glimmering
through the dawn. For all her tears she found comfort in her heart, for
she knew that Santa Claus had come indeed, and had brought for little
Julie the greatest gift of all."
There are thousands of such little Julies in Belgium weeping because
they are destitute of homes, father and Santa Claus' visit. Though the
English children are sympathizing with their little Belgian friends,
this great war has put a damper on their holiday spirits. In hundreds of
homes the fathers are fighting for the defense of their country; in many
more they are out of work. So, in Merry England there is little
merriment on this blessed Christmas day. The children are trying to be
happy with the few gifts given by their little American and European
friends. But they are sad when they recall the tall, heavily-laden
trees, so beautifully lighted that some of the longest tapers seemed to
reach the stars.
The absence of trees and presents is only a small part of their loss.
For only those who have eaten a Christmas dinner in England can
understand what Christmas day is without the feast. The great roasts are
simmering and crackling on the spits, while the vegetables of potatoes,
chestnuts and peas are boiling. These are accessories to the jams,
jellies, pumpkin pies, plum pudding, fruits and nuts. Several hours are
needed at least to consume such a dinner, and several days are needed to
get over the effects of such a feast.