THE PETERSKOI GARDENS.
This draws me insensibly toward the beautiful gardens of the
Peterskoi--a favorite place of resort for the Moskovites, and famous
for its chateau built by the Empress Elizabeth, in which Napoleon
sought refuge during the burning of Moscow. It is here the rank and
fashion of the city may be seen to the greatest advantage of a fine
summer afternoon. In these gardens all that is brilliant, beautiful,
and poetical in Russian life finds a congenial atmosphere.
I spent an evening at the Peterskoi which I shall long remember as one
of the most interesting I ever spent at any place of popular
amusement. The weather was charming--neither too warm nor too cold,
but of that peculiarly soft and dreamy temperature which predisposes
one for the enjoyment of music, flowers, the prattle of children, the
fascinations of female loveliness, the luxuries of idleness. In such
an atmosphere no man of sentiment can rack his brain with troublesome
problems. These witching hours, when the sun lingers dreamily on the
horizon; when the long twilight weaves a web of purple and gold that
covers the transition from night to morning; when nature, wearied of
the dazzling glare of day, puts on her silver-spangled robes, and
receives her worshipers with celestial smiles, are surely enough to
soften the most stubborn heart. We must make love, sweet ladies, or
die. There is no help for it. Resistance is an abstract impossibility.
The best man in the world could not justly be censured for practicing
a little with his eyes, when away from home, merely as I do, you know,
to keep up the expression.
The gardens of the Peterskoi are still a dream to me. For a distance
of three versts from the gate of St. Petersburg the road was thronged
with carriages and droskies, and crowds of gayly-dressed citizens, all
wending their way toward the scene of entertainment. The pressure for
tickets at the porter's lodge was so great that it required
considerable patience and good-humor to get through at all. Officers
in dashing uniforms rode on spirited chargers up and down the long
rows of vehicles, and with drawn swords made way for the
foot-passengers. Guards in imperial livery, glittering from head to
foot with embroidery, stood at the grand portals of the gate, and with
many profound and elegant bows ushered in the company. Policeman with
cocked hats and shining epaulets were stationed at intervals along the
leading thoroughfares to preserve order.
The scene inside the gates was wonderfully imposing. Nothing could be
more fanciful. In every aspect it presented some striking combination
of natural and artificial beauties, admirably calculated to fascinate
the imagination. I have a vague recollection of shady and undulating
walks, winding over sweeping lawns dotted with masses of flowers and
copses of shrubbery, and overhung by wide-spreading trees, sometimes
gradually rising over gentle acclivities or points of rock overhung
with moss and fern. Rustic cottages, half hidden by the luxuriant
foliage, crowned each prominent eminence, and little by-ways branched
off into cool, umbrageous recesses, where caves, glittering with
sea-shells and illuminated stalactites, invited the wayfarer to linger
a while and rest. Far down in deep glens and grottoes were retired
nooks, where lovers, hidden from the busy throng, might mingle their
vows to the harmony of falling waters; where the very flowers seemed
whispering love to each other, and the lights and shadows fell, by
some intuitive sense of fitness, into the form of bridal wreaths.
Marble statues representing the Graces, winged Mercuries and Cupids,
are so cunningly displayed in relief against the green banks of
foliage that they seem the natural inhabitants of the place.
Snow-spirits, too, with outspread wings, hover in the air, as if to
waft cooling zephyrs through the soft summer night. In the open spaces
fountains dash their sparkling waters high into the moonlight,
spreading a mystic spray over the sward. Through vistas of shrubbery
gleam the bright waters of a lake, on the far side of which the
embattled towers of a castle rise in bold relief over the intervening
groups of trees.
On an elevated plateau, near the centre of the garden, stands a series
of Asiatic temples and pagodas, in which the chief entertainments are
held. The approaching avenues are illuminated with many-colored lights
suspended from the branches of the trees, and wind under triumphal
archways, festooned with flowers. The theatres present open fronts,
and abound in all the tinsel of the stage, both inside and out. The
grounds are crowded to their utmost capacity with the rank and fashion
of the city, in all the glory of jeweled head-dresses and decorations
of order. Festoons of variegated lights swing from the trees over the
audience, and painted figures of dragons and genii are dimly seen in
the background.
[Illustration: RUSSIAN THEATRE.]
Attracted by sounds of applause at one of these theatres, I edged my
way through the crowd, and succeeded, after many apologies, in
securing a favorable position. Amid a motley gathering of Russians,
Poles, Germans, and French--for here all nations and classes are
represented--my ears were stunned by the clapping of hands and
vociferous cries _Bis! Bis!_ The curtain was down, but in answer to
the call for a repetition of the last scene it soon rose again, and
afforded me an opportunity of witnessing a characteristic performance.
A wild Mujik has the impudence to make love to the maid-servant of
his master, who appears to be rather a crusty old gentleman, not
disposed to favor matrimonial alliances of that kind. Love gets the
better of the lover's discretion, and he is surprised in the kitchen.
The bull-dog is let loose upon him; master and mistress and
subordinate members of the family rush after him, armed with
saucepans, tongs, shovels, and broomsticks. The affrighted Mujik runs
all round the stage bellowing fearfully; the bull-dog seizes him by
the nether extremities and hangs on with the tenacity of a vice. Round
and round they run, Mujik roaring for help, bull-dog swinging out
horizontally. The audience applauds; the master flings down his
broomstick and seizes the dog by the tail; the old woman seizes master
by the skirts of his coat; and all three are dragged around the stage
at a terrific rate, while the younger members of the family shower
down miscellaneous blows with their sticks and cudgels, which always
happen to fall on the old people, to the great satisfaction of the
audience. Shouts, and shrieks, and clapping of hands but faintly
express the popular appreciation of the joke. Finally the faithful
maid, taking advantage of the confusion, flings a bunch of
fire-crackers at her oppressors and blows them up, and the Mujik,
relieved of their weight, makes a brilliant dash through the door,
carrying with him the tenacious bull-dog, which it is reasonable to
suppose he subsequently takes to market and sells for a good price.
The curtain falls, the music strikes up, and the whole performance is
greeted with the most enthusiastic applause. Such are the
entertainments that delight these humorous people--a little broad to
be sure, but not deficient in grotesque spirit.
From the theatre I wandered to the pavilion of Zingalee gipsies, where
a band of these wild sons of Hagar were creating a perfect furor by
the shrillness and discord of their voices. Never was such terrific
music inflicted upon mortal ears. It went through and through you,
quivering and vibrating like a rapier; but the common classes of
Russians delight in it above all earthly sounds. They deem it the very
finest kind of music. It is only the dilettante who have visited Paris
who profess to hold it in contempt.
Very soon surfeited with these piercing strains, I rambled away till I
came upon a party of rope-dancers, and after seeing a dozen or so of
stout fellows hang themselves by the chins, turn back somersaults in
the air, and swing by one foot at a dizzy height from the ground, left
them standing upon each other's heads to the depth of six or eight,
and turned aside into a grotto to enjoy a few glasses of tea. Here
were German girls singing and buffoons reciting humorous stories
between the pauses, and thirsty Russians pouring down whole oceans of
their favorite beverage.
Again I wandered forth through the leafy mazes of the garden. The
gorgeous profusion of lights and glittering ornaments, the endless
variety of colors, the novel and Asiatic appearance of the temples,
the tropical luxuriance of the foliage, the gleaming white statuary,
the gay company, the wild strains of music, all combined to form a
scene of peculiar interest. High overhead, dimly visible through the
tops of the trees, the sky wears an almost supernatural aspect during
these long summer nights. A soft golden glow flushes upward from the
horizon, and, lying outspread over the firmament, gives a spectral
effect to the gentler and more delicate sheen of the moon; the stars
seem to shrink back into the dim infinity, as if unable to contend
with the grosser effulgence of the great orbs that rule the day and
the night. Unconscious whether the day is waning into the night, or
the night into the morning, the rapt spectator gazes and dreams till
lost in the strange enchantment of the scene.
At a late hour a signal was given, and the company wandered down to
the lake, along the shores of which rustic seats and divans,
overshadowed by shrubbery, afforded the weary an opportunity of
resting. Here we were to witness the crowning entertainment of the
evening--a grand display of fire-works. A miniature steam-boat, gayly
decorated with flags, swept to and fro, carrying passengers to the
different landing-places. Gondolas, with peaked prows and variegated
canopies, lay floating upon the still water, that lovers might quench
their flames in the contemplation of its crystal depths, or draw fresh
inspiration from the blaze of artificial fires. Soon a wild outburst
of music was heard; then from the opposite shore the whole heavens
were lighted up with a flood of rockets, and the ears were stunned by
their explosions. Down through the depths of ether came showers of
colored balls, illuminating the waters of the lake with inverted
streams of light scarcely less bright and glowing. Anon all was dark;
then from out the darkness flashed whirling and seething fires,
gradually assuming the grotesque forms of monsters and genii, till
with a deafening explosion they were scattered to the winds. From the
blackened mass of ruins stood forth illuminated statues of the
imperial family, in all the paraphernalia of royalty, their crowns
glittering with jewels, their robes of light resplendent with precious
gems and tracery of gold. A murmur of admiration ran through the
crowd. The imperial figures vanished as if by magic, and suddenly a
stream of fire flashed from a mass of dark undefined objects on the
opposite shore, and lo! the waters were covered with fiery swans,
sailing majestically among the gondolas, their necks moving slowly as
if inspired by life. Hither and thither they swept, propelled by
streams of fire, till, wearied with their sport, they gradually lay
motionless, yet glowing with an augmented brilliancy. While the eyes
of all were fixed in amazement and admiration upon these beautiful
swans, they exploded with a series of deafening reports, and were
scattered in confused volumes of smoke. Out of the chaos swept
innumerable hosts of whirling little monsters, whizzing and boring
through the water like infernal spirits of the deep. These again burst
with a rattle of explosions like an irregular fire of musketry, and
shot high into the air in a perfect maze of scintillating stars of
every imaginable color. When the shower of stars was over, and silence
and darkness once more reigned, a magnificent barge, that might well
have represented that of the Egyptian queen--its gay canopies
resplendent with the glow of many-colored lamps--swept out into the
middle of the lake, and
"Like a burnished throne
Burn'd on the water."
[Illustration: THE PETERSKOI GARDENS.]
And when the rowers had ceased, and the barge lay motionless, soft
strains of music arose from its curtained recesses, swelling up
gradually till the air was filled with the floods of rich, wild
harmony, and the senses were ravished with their sweetness.
Was it a wild Oriental dream? Could it all be real--the glittering
fires, the gayly-costumed crowds, the illuminated barge, the
voluptuous strains of music? Might it not be some gorgeous freak of
the emperor, such as the sultan in the Arabian Nights enjoyed at the
expense of the poor traveler? Surely there could be nothing real like
it since the days of the califs of Bagdad!
A single night's entertainment such as this must cost many thousand
rubles. When it is considered that there are but few months in the
year when such things can be enjoyed, some idea may be formed of the
characteristic passion of the Russians for luxurious amusements. It is
worthy of mention, too, that the decorations, the lamps, the actors
and operators, the material of nearly every description, are imported
from various parts of the world, and very little is contributed in any
way by the native Russians, save the means by which these costly
luxuries are obtained.