St. Petersburg. -- Churches. -- The Alexander Column. --
Principal Street. -- Cathedral of Peter and Paul. -- Nevsky
Monastery. -- Russian Priesthood. -- The Canals. -- Public
Library. -- Cruelty of an Empress. -- Religious Devotion of the
People. -- A Dangerous Locality. -- Population. -- The Neva and
Lake Ladoga. -- The Nicholas Bridge. -- Winter Season. -- Begging
Nuns. -- Nihilism. -- Scandal Touching the Emperor. -- The
Fashionable Drive. -- St. Isaac's Church. -- Russian Bells. --
Famous Equestrian Statue. -- The Admiralty. -- Architecture.
St. Petersburg is a city of sumptuous distances. There are no blind
alleys, no narrow lanes, no rag-fair in the imperial capital. The
streets are broad, the open squares vast in size, the avenues
interminable, the river wide and rapid, and the lines of architecture
seemingly endless, while the whole is as level as a chess-board. One
instinctively desires to reach a spot whence to overlook this broad
area peopled by more than eight hundred thousand souls. This object
is easily accomplished by ascending the tower of the Admiralty, from
whose base the main avenues diverge. The comprehensive view from this
elevation is unique, 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 spectator. The quays of the
Neva above and below the bridges will be seen to present as animated
a scene as the busy thoroughfares. A portion of this Admiralty
building is devoted to school-rooms for the education of naval
cadets. The rest is occupied by the civil department of the service
and by a complete naval museum, to which the officers of all vessels
on their return from distant service are expected to contribute.
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 opulent in gold, silver, and precious stones, together
with a large array of priestly vestments elaborately decked with gold
and ornamented with gems. It is a city of churches and palaces. Peter
the Great and Catherine II., who has been called the female Peter,
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 mottled red granite, and the loftiest
monolith 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. This grand column was brought from the
quarries of Pytterlax, in Finland, one hundred and forty miles from
the spot where it now stands. It forms a magnificent triumph of human
power, which has hewn it from the mountain mass and transported it
intact over so great a distance. Arrived complete upon the ground
where it was designed to be erected, to poise it safely in the air
was no small engineering triumph. The pedestal and capitol of bronze
is made of cannon taken from the Turks in various conflicts. It was
swung into its present upright position one August day in 1832, in
just fifty-four minutes, under direction of the French architect, M.
de Montferrand. Just opposite the Alexander Column, on the same wide
area, are situated the Winter Palace,--the Hermitage on one side; and
on the other, in half-moon shape, are the State buildings containing
the bureaus of the several ministers, whose quarters are indeed, each
one, a palace in itself. This is but one of the many spacious squares
of the city which are ornamented with bronze statues of more or less
merit, embracing monuments of Peter, Catherine, Nicholas, Alexander
I., and many others.
The Nevsky Prospect is the most fashionable thoroughfare and the
street devoted to the best shops. It is from two to three hundred
feet in width, and extends for a distance of three miles in nearly a
straight line to the Alexander Nevsky Monastery, forming all together
a magnificent boulevard. On this street may be seen the churches of
several dissenting sects, such as Roman Catholics, Protestants,
Armenians, and a Mahometan mosque. Hereon also are the Imperial
Library, the Alexander Theatre, and the Foreign Office. The
metropolitan cathedral of St. Petersburg is also situated upon this
main artery of the city, and is called Our Lady of Kazan,--finished
with an elegant semi-circular colonnade, curving around a large
square much like that of St. Peter's at Rome. This edifice is superb
in all its appointments, no expense having been spared in its
construction. The aggregate cost was three millions of dollars. One
item of costliness was observed in the massive rails of the altar,
which are formed of solid silver. The church contains between fifty
and sixty granite columns brought from Finland, each one of which is
a monolith of forty feet in height, with base and capitol of solid
bronze. Why the architect should have designed so small a dome as
that which forms the apex of this costly temple with its extended
facade, was a question which often occurred to us. Within, upon the
altar, is an aureole of silver bearing the name of God, inscribed in
precious stones of extraordinary value. The sacred images before
which lamps are always burning are literally covered with diamonds,
rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. One of the diamonds in the crown of
Our Lady of Kazan is of fabulous value, and dazzling to look upon.
Within these walls was observed the tomb of Kutuzof, the so-called
"Savior of Russia" on the occasion of the French invasion of 1812.
Outside, in front of the cathedral, are two admirable statues in
bronze standing before the bending corridor of each wing,
representing historical characters in Russian story, but whose names
are quite unpronounceable in our tongue. The cosmopolitan character
of the population of St. Petersburg is indicated by the fact that
preaching occurs weekly in twelve different languages in the several
churches and chapels of the city.
In the Cathedral of Peter and Paul rest the ashes of the founder of
the city; and grouped about his tomb are those of his successors to
the Russian throne, with the exception of Peter II., whose remains
are interred at Moscow. These sarcophagi are quite simple, composed
of white marble tablets raised three feet above the level of the
floor, with barely a slight relief of gilded ornamentation. At the
time of our visit they were covered with an abundance of fresh
flowers and wreaths of immortelles. Peter and Paul is a fortress as
well as a church; that is to say, it stands within a fortress
defended by a hundred guns and garrisoned by between two and three
thousand men. It is more venerable and interesting in its
associations than the grander Cathedral of St. Isaac's, while its
mast-like, slender spire, being fifty or sixty feet higher than any
other pinnacle in the city, is more conspicuous as a landmark. The
immediate surroundings constitute the nucleus about which the founder
of the city first began to rear his capital, being an island formed
by the junction of the Neva and one of its natural branches, but
connected with the main-land by bridges. We were told that the
present Emperor sometimes visits incognito the tombs of his
predecessors here, where kneeling in silence and alone, he seems to
pray long and fervently,--and that he had done so only a few days
previous to the time of our visit. That Alexander III. is actuated
by devout religious convictions, of which he makes no parade, is a
fact well known to those habitually near his person, and that he
seeks for higher guidance than can be expected from mortal
counsellors is abundantly proven. It was in the prison portion of
this fortress that the Czarowitz Alexis, the only son of Peter the
Great that lived to manhood, died under the knout while being
punished for insubordination and open opposition to his father's
reforms. What fearful tragedies are written in lines of blood upon
every page of Russian history! Peter's granddaughter, the Princess
Tarakanof, was also drowned in the Fortress of Peter and Paul by an
overflow of the Neva while confined in one of the dreary subterranean
dungeons. About the pillars and upon the walls inside the cathedral
hang the captured battle-flags of many nations,--Turkish, Persian,
Swedish, French, and Prussian, besides the surrendered keys of
several European capitals, including Paris, Dresden, Hamburg,
Leipsic, and others. The National Mint of Russia is within this
fortress-prison and cathedral combined.
A brief visit to the Monastery of St. Alexander Nevsky was productive
of more than ordinary interest, and it chanced to be at an hour when
the singing was especially impressive and beautiful, being conducted,
as is always the case in the Greek Church, by a male choir. As
already intimated, this institution is situated at the extremity of
the Nevsky Prospect, about three miles from the heart of the city,
occupying a large space enclosed by walls within which are fine
gardens, thrifty groves, churches, ecclesiastical academies,
dwelling-houses for the priests, and the like. The main church is
that of the Trinity, which is appropriately adorned with some fine
paintings, among which one by Rubens was conspicuous. Hither the
Emperor comes at least once during the year to attend the service of
Mass in public. This monastery was founded by Peter the Great in
honor of Alexander surnamed Nevsky, who vanquished the Swedes and
Livonians, but who in turn succumbed to the Tartar Khans. This brave
soldier, however, was canonized by the Russian Church. His tomb, we
were told, weighs nearly four thousand pounds, and is of solid
silver. Close beside his last resting-place hang the surrendered keys
of Adrianople. The treasury of this monastery contains pearls and
precious stones of a value which we hesitate to name in figures,
though both our eyes and ears bore witness to the aggregate as
exhibited to us. The value of the pearls is said to be only exceeded
as a collection by that in the Troitea Monastery, near the city of
Moscow. We were here shown the bed upon which Peter the Great died,
across which lay his threadbare dressing-gown and night-cap. In the
crypt, among the tombs, is one which bears a singular inscription, as
follows: "Here lies Souvarof, celebrated for his victories, epigrams,
and practical jokes." This brave and eccentric soldier made the
Russian name famous on many a severely contested battlefield. He was
also quite as noted for his biting epigrams as for his victorious
warfare. He lies buried here in the Alexander Nevsky Monastery, as
this peculiar inscription indicates; and the curious stranger is
quite as eager in seeking his tomb as that of the canonized soldier
whose name the institution bears. This monastery is the coveted place
of burial to the soldier, statesman, and poet. In the cemetery
attached there is seen a white marble column raised to the cherished
memory of Lomonosof, called the father of Russian poetry, who was
born a serf, but whose native genius won him national renown. He was
made Councillor of State in 1764.
The monks who inhabit this and all other Russian monasteries are of
the one Order of St. Basil. They wear a black pelisse extending to
the feet and broad-brimmed dark hats, permitting their hair and
beards to grow quite long. They pretend never to eat meat, their
ordinary food consisting of fish, milk, eggs, and butter; but on fast
days they are allowed to eat only fruit or vegetables. They take vows
of chastity, to which they are doubtless as recreant as the Roman
Catholic priests of Italy and elsewhere. The Government gives to each
member of the Order an annuity of forty roubles per annum, which
forms their only fixed income; and consequently they must depend
largely on the liberality of their congregations and the fees for
attendance upon funerals, marriages, and christenings. The priesthood
is divided into two classes,--the parish priests, called the white
clergy; and the monks, who are called the black clergy; but the
latter are comparatively circumscribed in number. We have seen that
dissenters are as common in Russia as in other countries; religious
intolerance apparently does not exist.
In returning from the monastery, the whole length of the Nevsky
Prospect was passed on foot. It was a warm summer afternoon of just
such temperature as to invite the citizens who remained in town for a
stroll abroad, and there was a world of people crowding the sidewalks
of this metropolitan road-way. The brilliant Russian signs in broad
gilt letters--so very like the Greek alphabet--which line the street,
must often be renewed to present so fresh an appearance. It is a
thoroughfare of alternating shops, palaces, and churches, the most
frequented and the most animated in the great city of the Neva. Four
canals cross but do not intercept this boulevard, named successively
the Moika, the Catherine, the Ligawa, and the Fontanka. These
water-ways, lined throughout by substantial granite quays, are gay
with the life imparted to them by pleasure and freight boats
constantly furrowing their surface. In our early morning walks,
pausing for a moment on the street bridges, large barges were seen
containing forests of cut-wood loaded fifteen feet high above their
wide decks, delivering all along the banks of the canals the winter's
important supply of fuel. Others, with their hulls quite hidden from
sight, appeared like immense floating hay-stacks moving mysteriously
to their destination with horse-fodder for the city stables. Barges
containing fruit, berries, and vegetable produce were numerous, and
these were often followed by flower-boats propelled with oars by
women and filled with gay colors, bound to the market square. The
canals seemed as busy as the streets they intersected. From one
o'clock to five in the afternoon the Nevsky Prospect, with the tide
of humanity pouring either way through its broad space, was like the
Rue Rivoli or the Rue Vivienne Paris on a fete day.
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 number of
bound volumes aggregates a little over one million, while it is
especially rich in the rarest and most interesting manuscripts. In a
room specially devoted to the purpose there is a collection of
incunabula, or books printed previous to the year 1500, which is
considered unique. The noble building exclusively appropriated to
this purpose has several times been enlarged to meet the demand for
room to store and classify the accumulating treasures. So late as
1862 there was added a magnificent reading-room, quite as spacious
and well appointed as that of the British Museum at London. One
division of the manuscript department relates particularly to the
history of France, consisting of the letters of various kings of that
country, and those of their ambassadors at foreign courts, with many
secret State documents and a great variety of historical State
papers. These interesting documents were dragged from the archives
of Paris by the crazed mob during the French Revolution, and sold to
the first bidder. They were bought by Peter Dubrowski, and thus found
their way into this royal collection. Some of the Latin manuscripts
of the fifth century, nearly fourteen hundred years old are still
perfectly preserved, and are of great interest to antiquarians. The
stranger visiting St. Petersburg will be sure to return again and
again to this treasure-house, whose intrinsic riches surpass all the
gems of the Winter Palace and those of the Hermitage, marvellous as
their aggregate value is when measured by a criterion of gold.
The Alexander Theatre and the Imperial Public Library both look down
upon a broad square which contains an admirable statue of Catherine
II. in bronze. This fine composition seemed to us to be the boldest
and truest example of recorded history, breathing the very spirit of
the profligate and cruel original, whose ambitious plans were even
paramount to her enslaving passions. History is compelled to admit
her exalted capacity, while it causes us to blush for her infamy.
This square opens on the right side of the Nevsky Prospect, and is
the spot where the Countess Lapuschkin received her terrible
punishment for having spoken lightly of the amours of the Empress
Elizabeth. The Countess is represented to have been as lovely in
person as in mind, the very idol of the court, and surrounded by
admirers to the last moment. She struggled bravely with her fate,
mounting the scaffold in an elegant undress which heightened the
effect of her delicate charms; and when one of the executioners
pulled off a shawl which covered her bosom, her modesty was so
shocked that she turned pale and burst into tears. Her clothes were
soon stripped to her waist, and before the startled eyes of an
immense concourse of people she was whipped until not one inch of the
skin was left upon her back, from the neck downward. The poor lady of
course became insensible before this was entirely accomplished. But
her inhuman punishment did not end here. Her tongue was cut out, and
she was banished to Siberia!
The people of no city in Europe exhibit so much apparent religious
devotion as do the inhabitants of this Muscovite capital; and yet we
do not for a moment suppose that they are more deeply influenced in
their inner lives by sacred convictions than are other races. The
humblest artisan, the drosky driver, the man of business, the women
and children, all bow low and make the sign of the cross when passing
the churches, chapels, or any of the many religious shrines upon the
streets. No matter how often these are encountered, or in how much of
a hurry the passers may be, each one receives its due recognition of
devout humility. In the churches the people, men and women, not only
kneel, but they bow their bodies until the forehead touches the
marble floor, repeating this again and again during each service. It
was observed that children, seemingly far too young to understand the
purport of these signs of humility, were nevertheless sure to go
through with them precisely like their elders. As regards the
multiplicity of shrines, they are frequently set up in the private
houses of the common people, consisting of a picture of some saint
gaudily framed and set in gilt, before which a lamp is kept
constantly burning. Some of the shops also exhibit one of these
shrines, before which the customer on entering always takes off his
hat, bows low, and makes the sign of the cross. A custom almost
precisely similar was observed by the author as often occurring at
Hong Kong, Canton, and other parts of China, where images in private
houses abound, and before which there was kept constantly burning
highly-flavored pastilles as incense, permeating the very streets
with a constant odor of musk, mingled with fragrant spices.
St. Petersburg is the fifth city in point of population in Europe,
but its very existence seemed to us to be constantly threatened on
account of its low situation between two enormous 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 human
life. The Neva, which comes sweeping with such resistless force
swiftly through the city, is fed by that vast body of water Lake
Ladoga, covering an area of over six thousand square miles at a
level of about sixty feet above the sea. In 1880 the waters rose
between ten and eleven feet above the ordinary level, driving
people from their basements and cellars, as well as from the villas
and humbler dwellings of the lower islands below the city. However,
St. Petersburg has existed for one hundred and eighty years, and it
may last as much longer, though it is not a city of Nature's
building, so to speak. It is not a healthy city; indeed the death
rate is higher than that of any other European capital. The deaths
largely exceed the births, as in Madrid; and it is only by
immigration that the population of either the Spanish or the Russian
capital is kept up. Young men from the rural districts come to
St. Petersburg to better their fortunes, and all the various
nationalities of the empire contribute annually to swell its fixed
population. In the hotels and restaurants many Tartar youth are
found, being easily distinguished by their dark eyes and hair, as
well as by their diminutive stature, contrasting with the blond
complexion and stout build of the native Slav. Preference is given
to these Tartars in situations such as we have named because of
their temperate habits, which they manage to adhere to even when
surrounded by a people so generally given to intoxication. Among the
mercantile class there is a large share of Germans, whose numbers
are being yearly increased; and we must also add to these local
shopkeepers, especially of fancy goods, a liberal sprinkling of
French nationality, against whom popular prejudice has subsided.
What the Gotha Canal is to Sweden, the Neva and its joining
water-ways are to Russia. Through Lake Ladoga and its extensive
ramifications of connecting waters it opens communication with an
almost unlimited region of inland territory, while its mouth receives
the commerce of the world. The Lake system of Russia presents a very
similar feature to that of the northern United States, though on a
miniature scale. They are mostly found close to one another,
intersected by rivers and canals, and bear the names of Ladoga,
Onega, Peipous, Saima, Bieloe, Ilmen, and Pskov,--the first named
being by far the largest, and containing many islands. The two
important lakes of Konevetz and Valaam have two famous mountains,
whose stream-falls and cascades are swallowed up in their capacious
basins. The sea-fish and the beds of shell found in Lake Ladoga show
that it must once have been a gulf of the Baltic. Vessels of heavy
burden have heretofore been obliged to transfer their cargoes at
Cronstadt, as there was not sufficient depth of water in the Neva to
float them to the capital; but a well constructed channel has just
been completed, and vessels drawing twenty-two feet of water can now
ascend the river to St. Petersburg. Since the perfection of this
ship-canal another marine enterprise of importance has been resolved
upon; namely, a large open dock is being prepared by deepening the
shallow water near the city, covering an area of twenty acres more or
less, in order that the merchant shipping heretofore anchoring within
the docks of Cronstadt may find safe quarters for mooring, loading,
and unloading contiguous to the city. The spacious docks thenceforth
at the mouth of the Neva will be devoted with all their marine and
mechanical facilities to the accommodation of the rapidly growing
Russian navy.
The Neva is no ordinary river, though its whole length is but about
thirty-six miles. It supplies the city with drinking water of the
purest description, and is thus in this respect alone invaluable, as
there are no springs to be reached in the low marshy district upon
which the metropolis stands, resting upon a forest of piles. The
river forms a number of canals which intersect the town in various
directions, draining away all impurities, as well as making of the
city a series of closely-connected islands. In short, the Neva is to
this Russian Venice in importance what the Nile is to the Egyptians,
though effective in a different manner. The entire course of the
river from its entrance to its exit from the city is a trifle over
twelve miles, lined the whole distance by substantial stone
embankments, finished with granite pavements, parapets, and broad
stone steps leading at convenient intervals from the street to the
water's edge, where little steam-gondolas are always in readiness to
convey one to any desired section of the town. Many officials and
rich private families have their own boats, propelled by from two to
eight oarsmen. On Sundays especially a small fleet of boats is to be
seen upon the river, which is almost a mile in width opposite the
Winter Palace, where the shores are united by a long bridge of boats,
the depth in mid channel being over fifty feet. The main branch of
the Neva divides the city into two great sections, which are
connected by four bridges. The principal of these is the Nicholas
Bridge, a superb piece of marine architecture which was fifteen years
in the process of building, having been begun by the Emperor in 1843
and finished in 1858. It crosses the river on eight colossal iron
arches resting on mammoth piers of granite. By patient engineering
skill the difficulties of a shifting bottom, great depth, and a swift
current were finally overcome, giving lasting fame to the successful
architect, Stanislas Herbedze. The Nicholas is the only permanent
bridge, the others being floating structures supported by pontoons,
or boats, which are placed at suitable distances to accommodate the
demands of business. Notwithstanding the populous character of the
city, the avenues and squares have a rather deserted aspect in many
sections, but this is mainly owing to their extraordinary size. A
marching regiment on the Nevsky Prospect seems to be scarcely more in
number than does a single company in most European thoroughfares. We
may mention, by the way, that the garrison of St. Petersburg never
embraces less than about sixty thousand troops of all arms, quite
sufficient to produce an ever-present military aspect, as they are
kept upon what is called a war-footing. In the event of a sudden
declaration of war this garrison is designed as a nucleus for an
efficient army.
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 mean time 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
skins and furs. Even the peasant class necessarily wear warm
sheep-skins, or they would be liable often to freeze to death on the
briefest exposure. In the public squares and open places before the
theatres large fires in iron enclosures are lighted and tended by the
police at night, for the benefit of the drosky drivers and others
necessarily exposed in the open air. The windows of the
dwelling-houses are all arranged with double sashes, and each
entrance to the house is constructed with a double passage. So also
on the railroad cars, which are then by means of large stoves
rendered comparatively comfortable. Ventilation is but little
regarded in winter. The frosty air is so keen that it is excluded at
all cost. The nicely spun theories as to the fatal poison derived
from twice-breathed air are unheeded here, nor do the people seem to
be any the worse for disregarding them. The animal food brought to
market from the country is of course frozen hard as stone, and will
keep sweet for months in this condition, having finally to be cut up
for use by means of a saw or axe; no knife could sever it. But in
spite of its chilling physical properties, the winter is the season
of gayety and merriment in this peculiar capital. With the first
snow, wheels are cheerfully discarded, and swift-gliding sleighs take
the place of the uncomfortable droskies; the merry bells jingle
night and day a ceaseless tune; the world is robed in bridal white,
and life is at its gayest. Balls, theatres, concerts, court fetes,
are conducted upon a scale of magnificence unknown in Paris, London,
or Vienna. Pleasure and reckless amusement seem to be the only end
and aim of life among the wealthier classes,--the nobility as they
are called,--who hesitate at nothing to effect the object of present
enjoyment. Morality is an unknown quantity in the general
calculation. When that Eastern monarch offered a princely reward to
the discoverer of a new pleasure, he forgot to stipulate that it
should be blameless.
If there are poverty and wretchedness existing here it is not obvious
to the stranger. More or less of a secret character there must be in
every large community; but what we would say is that there is no
street begging, and no half-starved women or children obstruct the
way and challenge sympathy, as in London or Naples. There is to be
sure a constant and systematic begging just inside the doors of the
churches, where one passes through a line of nuns dressed in black
cloaks and peaked hoods lined with white. These individuals are sent
out from the religious establishments to which they belong to solicit
alms for a series of years, until a certain sum of money is realized
by each, which is paid over to the sisterhood,--and which, when the
fixed sum is obtained, insures them a provision for life. This to the
writer's mind forms the very meanest system of beggary with which he
has yet been brought in contact. These women, mostly quite youthful,
are apparently in perfect health and quite able to support themselves
by honest labor, like the rest of their sisterhood. As we have
intimated, there is no St. Giles, Five Points, or North Street in
St. Petersburg. The wages paid for labor are very low, amounting, as
we were told, to from forty to fifty cents per day in the city, and a
less sum in the country. The necessities of life are not dear in the
capital, but the price of luxuries is excessive. The common people
are content with very simple food and a share of steaming hot tea.
The drosky drivers are hired by companies who own the horses and
vehicles, and receive about eight dollars per month on which to
support themselves. They pick up a trifle now and then from generous
passengers in the way of _pourboire_, and as a class they are the
least intelligent to be found in the metropolis. There is a local
saying applied to one who is deemed to be a miserable, worthless
fellow. They say of him, "He is only fit to drive a drosky." The
Paris, New York, London, and Vienna cab-drivers are cunning and
audacious, but the Russian drosky-driver is very low in the scale of
humanity, so far as brains are concerned, and does not know enough to
be a rogue.
Discontent among the mass of the people does not exist to any
material extent; those who represent the case to be otherwise are
seriously mistaken. It is the few scheming, partially educated, idle,
disappointed, and useless members of society who ferment revolution
and turmoil in Russia,--people who have everything to gain by public
agitation and panic; men actuated by the same spirit as those who
were so lately condemned to death for wholesale murder in our own
country. Nine tenths and more of the people of Russia are loyal to
"father the Tzar,"--loyal to his family and dynasty. Nihilism is
almost entirely stimulated from without. England is more seriously
torn by internal dissensions to-day than is Russia, and the German
people have a great deal more cause for dissatisfaction with their
government than have the Russian. To hold up the Russian government
as being immaculate would be gross folly; but for foreigners to
represent it to be so abhorrent as has long been the fashion to do,
is equally incorrect and unjust. Nihilism means _nothingness_; and
never was the purpose of a mad revolutionary combination more
appropriately named. This murderous crew has been well defined by an
English writer, who says, "The Nihilists are simply striving to force
upon an unwilling people the fantastic freedom of anarchy." The very
name which these restless spirits have assumed is an argument against
them. Some have grown sensitive as to having the title of Nihilists
applied to them, and prefer that of Communists or Socialists, which
are in fact synonymous names that are already rendered odious in
Europe and America. When Elliott, the Corn-law rhymer was asked,
"What is a Communist?" he answered: "One who has yearnings for equal
division of unequal earnings. Idler or burglar, he is willing to
fork out his penny and pocket your shilling." Socialism is the very
embodiment of selfishness; its aim is that of legalized plunder.
Communists, Socialists, Nihilists, are one and all disciples of
destruction. Just after the terrible explosion in the Winter Palace,
two of the conspirators met in St. Isaac's Square. "Is all blown up?"
asked one of the other. "No," was the reply, "the Globe remains."
"Then let us blow up the globe!" added the other. When these vile
conspirators are discovered, as in the case of those lately detected
in an attempt to burn the city of Vienna, they are found to be
composed of escaped convicts, forgers, and murderers, who naturally
array themselves against law and order. It was not when Russia was
little better than a military despotism under the Emperor Nicholas,
that Nihilism showed its cloven foot. Alexander II. was assassinated
in the streets of St. Petersburg after the millions of grateful serfs
had been given their liberty, the press granted greater freedom of
discussion, the stringent laws mitigated, and when the country was
upon its slow but sure progress towards constitutional government.
National freedom is not what these anarchists desire; they seek
wholesale destruction. The devotion to the Tzar evinced by the common
people is not slavish, or the result of fear; it is more of childlike
veneration. Whatever the Emperor commands must be done; no one may
question it. The same respect exists for the property of the Tzar. No
collector of government taxes fears for his charge in travelling
through the least settled districts. The money he carries belongs to
the Tzar and is sacred; no peasant would touch it. The Tzar is the
father of his people, commanding parental obedience and respect. The
author believes this sentiment to be largely reciprocal, and that the
monarch has sincerely the best good of the people at heart.
A fresh scandal has lately been started in the columns of the
European press, notably in the English and German papers,--that the
Tzar is addicted to gross intemperance, and may at any time in a
moment of excess plunge headlong into a foreign war. Of course no
casual visitor to Russia can offer competent evidence to the
contrary; but it was our privilege to see Alexander III. on several
occasions, and at different periods of the day, being each time
strongly impressed with a very different estimate of his habits. The
Emperor presents no aspect of excess of any sort, but on the contrary
appears like one conscious of his great responsibility and actuated
by a calm conscientious resolve to fulfil its requirements. "What
King so strong can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?" asks
Shakspeare.
Our remarks as to the honesty of the peasantry in all matters
relating to the Tzar must not be taken as indicating the honesty of
the Russian masses generally, as regards strangers and one another,
especially those of the large cities and the habitues of the great
fairs. There are no more adroit thieves in Christendom than those of
St. Petersburg and Moscow. Some of the anecdotes relating to these
gentry seem almost incredible for boldness, adroitness, and success.
There is a familiar proverb here which says, "The common Russian may
be stupid, but he would only make one mouthful of the Devil himself!"
Intemperance is the great bane of the lower classes, and the
aggregate quantity of spirit consumed by the people is almost beyond
belief, though St. Petersburg is not to be compared with Moscow in
this very objectionable respect. The chief means of intoxication is
the drinking of Vodka, brandy made from grain. The drunken Russian
however is not as a rule quarrelsome, he only becomes more lovingly
demonstrative and foolish. A ludicrous though sad evidence of this
peculiarity was observed in front of the Hotel d'Angleterre. A
well-dressed and intelligent appearing citizen paused opposite the
principal entrance, took off his hat, and quietly but tenderly
apostrophized it, smoothing the crown affectionately, which he petted
and kissed. It was then replaced properly upon his head, and the
wearer passed on to the next corner, where his chapeau was again made
the recipient of his fond caresses and gentle assurances, ending as
before with a devoted kiss. This process was repeated several times
as he passed along the big square of St. Isaac's totally indifferent
to all observers. Singular to say, this behavior was the only
manifest evidence of the individual's inebriety; but the truth is,
our Muscovite was very drunk.
Nearly every nationality of Europe and many of Asia are represented
on the business streets of St. Petersburg,--Persians, English,
Arabs, Greeks, Circassians, and so on, each more or less strongly
individualized. The close observer is not long in discovering that
the northern being the sunny side of the streets radiating from the
Admiralty, on that side are to be found the finest shops. The summer
days are long; twilight is not a period between light and darkness,
but between light and light. The street lamps are nearly useless at
this season of the year. Friday is the sacred day of the Moslem, the
turbaned Turk, and the black-bearded Persian; Saturday the Jews
appear in holiday attire (though they are not in favor here), Sunday
being appropriated by the professed Christian. Nowhere else is there
such an array of white palatial residences, such an airy metropolitan
aspect, such grand and costly statues of bronze, such broad and
endless boulevards. The English Quay is a favorite promenade and
drive; it is surrounded by the grand residences of wealthy Russians,
who live on a scale of splendor and expense equal to petty
sovereigns. A marked feature in the windows, balconies, and entrances
of these dwellings was the long, wavy, green leaves of tropical
plants, which must require a world of care to insure their healthful
existence in this climate. Handsome four-in-hand vehicles dash
through the fashionable streets, and though one sees both sexes in
public, there seems to be a half-Oriental exclusiveness surrounding
womanhood in the realm of the Tzar. Glare and glitter are manifest on
all sides, but the domestic virtues are little cultivated in any
class of society, marriage being scarcely more than a matter of
form, hardly ever one of sentiment. As in France and at Continental
courts generally, intrigue and sensuality prevail in those very
places to which the common people look for their example. Gaming is a
prevailing vice among the women, if we may credit what we were told
and judge from what little we saw. As to gentlemen, they have
practised that vice almost from boyhood; it is the universal habit of
Russian youth. But to all such general remarks there are noble
exceptions, and if these are rare they are all the more appreciable.
We were speaking of the English Quay, which recalls the beauty and
spirited action of the Russian horses. No stranger will fail to
notice them. The author has seen animals more beautiful in form among
the Moors; but taken as a whole the horses of St. Petersburg, whether
we select them from those kept for private use, or from the cavalry
of the army, or the artillery attached to the garrison, are the
finest equine specimens to be seen anywhere. The dash of Tartar blood
in their veins gives them all the vigor, spirit, and endurance that
can be desired. The five islands of the city separated by the arms of
the Nevka and Neva, are named the "Garden Islands," which form the
pleasure-drive of the town. They have quite a country aspect, and are
a series of parks in fact, where the fine roads wind through shady
woods, cross green meadows, and skirt transparent lakes. Here every
variety of villa and chalet is seen embowered in attractive verdure,
where one is sure in the after part of the day to meet the best
equipages of the citizens, occupied by merry family parties.
The city of the Neva 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. The
millions of the Paris populace could find space sufficient here
without enlarging the present area. 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 grand 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 Catherine 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
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 achieved upon
this Finland marsh. Yet there are those who reason 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 attained. The city is
necessarily isolated, the environs being nearly unavailable for
habitations, indeed incapable of being much improved for any
desirable purpose. Like Madrid, it derives its importance from the
fact that it is the capital,--not from its location, though it has a
maritime relation which the Spanish metropolis cannot boast. The
great interest of the city to the author was its brief but almost
magical history, and the genius of him who founded it, of whom Motley
said that he was the only monarch who ever descended from a throne to
fit himself properly to ascend it. In population and its number of
houses St. Petersburg is exceeded by several European cities; but its
area is immense.
St. Isaac's Cathedral was begun in 1819 and completed in 1858, being
undoubtedly the finest structure of its class in Northern Europe. So
far as its architecture is concerned, its audacious simplicity
amounts to originality. It stands upon the great square known as
Isaac's Place, where a Christian church formerly stood as early as
the time of Peter. Its name is derived from a saint of the Greek
liturgy,--St. Isaac the Delmatian,--and is altogether distinct from
the patriarch of that name in the Old Testament. As the Milan
Cathedral represents a whole quarry of marble, this church may be
said to be a mountain of granite and bronze. Nor is it surprising
that it occupied forty years in the process of building; its
completion was only a question of necessary time, never one of
pecuniary means. Whatever is undertaken in this country is carried
to its end, regardless of the cost. The golden cross on the dome is
three hundred and thirty-six feet from the ground, the form of the
structure being that of a Greek cross with four equal sides,
surmounted by a central dome, which is covered with copper overlaid
with gold. Two hundred pounds of the precious metal, we were told,
were required to complete the operation. The dome is supported by a
tiara of polished granite pillars. Each of the four grand entrances,
which have superb peristyles, is reached by a broad flight of granite
steps. The four porches are supported by magnificent granite columns
sixty feet in height, with Corinthian capitals in bronze, these
monoliths each measuring seven feet in diameter. The entire
architectural effect, as already intimated, is one of grandeur and
simplicity combined; but the impressive aspect of the interior, when
the lamps and tapers are all lighted, is something so solemn as to be
quite beyond description,--illumination being a marked feature in the
Greek, as in the Roman Catholic Church. No interment, baptism, or
betrothal takes place in Russia without these tiny flames indicative
of the presence of the Holy Spirit; and thus it is that the humblest
cabin of the peasant or city laborer supports one ever-burning lamp
before some hallowed and saintly picture. Instrumental music is not
permitted in the Greek Church, but the human voice forms generally
the most effective portion of the service; and of course the choir of
St. Isaac's is remarkable for its excellence. Some idea of the cost
of this cathedral may be found in the fact that to establish a
suitable foundation alone cost over a million roubles; and yet at
this writing a hundred skilled workmen are endeavoring to secure the
heavy walls so as to stop the gradual sinking which is taking place
at three of the corners! It is feared that these walls before many
years will have to come down all together, and a fresh and more
secure foundation created by the driving of another forest of piles.
It is to be hoped that St. Isaac's may be indefinitely preserved in
all its purity of design and splendor of material; and with its
foundation established this may reasonably be expected. Architecture
has been called the printing press of all time, from the period of
the Druids to our own day. Future generations will perhaps read in
this noble edifice a volume of history relating to the state of
society, the degree of culture existing, and the iron despotism which
entered into its construction.
Russia has always been famous for its church bells. That of
St. Isaac's, the principal one of the city, weighs over fifty-three
thousand pounds and gives forth sounds the most sonorous we have ever
chanced to hear. These great Russian bells are not rung by swinging;
a rope is attached to the clapper, or tongue, and the operator rings
the bell by this means. Our hotel was on Isaac's Place, and our
sleeping apartment nearly under the shadow of the lofty dome of the
church. It seemed as though the bell was never permitted to rest,--it
was tolling and ringing so incessantly, being especially addicted to
breaking forth at the unseemly hours of four, five, and six o'clock
A. M. Of course sleep to one not accustomed to it was out of the
question, while fifty-three thousand pounds of bell-metal were being
so hammered upon. It was not content to give voice sufficient for a
signal to the specially devout, but its outbursts assumed chronic
form, and having got started it kept it up for the half-hour
together, causing the atmosphere to vibrate and the window sashes to
tremble with thrills of discomfort. Sometimes it would partially
subside in its angry clamor, and one hoped it was about to become
quiet, when it would suddenly burst forth again with renewed vigor,
and with, as we fancied, a touch of maliciousness added. Then,--then
we did not ask that blessings might be showered upon that bell,
but--well, we got up, dressed, and took a soothing walk along the
banks of the swiftly flowing river!
On the right of Isaac's Place as one looks towards the Neva is the
spacious Admiralty, reaching a quarter of a mile to the square of
the Winter Palace. On the left is the grand and effective structure
of the Senate House. Immediately in front of the cathedral, between
it and the river, surrounded by a beautiful garden, stands the
famous equestrian statue of Peter the Great in bronze. The horse is
seventeen feet high, and the rider is eleven. Horse and rider rest
upon a single block of granite weighing fifteen hundred tons, which
was brought here from Finland at great cost and infinite labor. The
effect of this group struck us as being rather incongruous and far
from artistic; but it is only fair to add that many able judges
pronounce it to be among the grandest examples of modern sculpture.
Falconet, the French artist, executed the work at the command of
Catherine II. On the opposite side of the cathedral is the more
modern equestrian statue and group reared in memory of the
Emperor Nicholas, one of the most elaborate, costly, and
artistic compositions in bronze extant. At each corner of the
profusely-embossed pedestal stands a figure of life size, moulded
after busts of the Empress and her three daughters. We had not
chanced to know of this work of art before we came full upon it on
the morning following our arrival in the city; but certainly it is
the most remarkable and the most superb monument in St. Petersburg.
Well was the man it commemorates called the Iron Emperor, both on
account of his great strength of body and of will. His was a
despotism which permitted no vent for public opinion, and which for
thirty years kept an entire nation bound and controlled by his
single will. It was the misfortunes which befell Russia through the
Crimean war that finally broke his proud self-reliance. He died, it
is said, of a broken heart on the 2d of March, 1855.
Before leaving the subject of St. Isaac's Cathedral, let us refer to
its interior, which is very beautiful, and to us seemed in far better
taste than the gaudy though costly embellishments of the Spanish and
Italian churches. The Greek religion banishes all statues, while it
admits of paintings in the churches, as also any amount of chasing,
carving, and gilding. The various columns of malachite and
lapis-lazuli, together with the abundant mosaic and bronze work, are
characterized by exquisite finish. The many life-size portraits of
the disciples and saints in the former material present an infinite
artistic detail. The small circular temple which forms the inmost
shrine was the costly gift of Prince Demidof, who is the owner of the
malachite mines of Siberia. The steps are of porphyry, the floor of
variegated marble, the dome of malachite, and the walls of
lapis-lazuli,--the whole being magnificently gilded. The intrinsic
value of this unequalled shrine is estimated at a million dollars.
Many others of the superb decorations of the interior are the gifts
of wealthy citizens of St. Petersburg. The numerous battle-trophies
which enter into the decoration of the interior of this cathedral
seemed to us a little incongruous, though quite common in this
country, and indeed in other parts of Europe. The banners of England,
France, Turkey, and Germany are mingled together, telling the story
of Russia's struggles upon the battlefield and of her victories. The
keys of captured fortresses are also seen hanging in clusters upon
the walls, flanked here and there by a silver lamp burning dimly
before some pictured saint. The cost of constructing and furnishing
St. Isaac's was over fifteen million dollars.
All art decorations and objects of _virtu_ which one finds in Russia
seem to partake of other and various nationalities, a fact which is
perhaps easily accounted for. The Empire is located between the East
and the West, and has derived her tastes and art productions from
both, as the influence of Asia and Europe are mingled everywhere.
Assyria, China, India, Greece, Byzantium, France, and England, all
contribute both artists and materials to adorn the Russian palaces,
churches, and public buildings. The more practical Americans first
built her railroads and first established her now famous
machine-shops. Of originality there is very little; all is borrowed,
as it were. There is no such thing as Russian art pure and simple;
and yet over the broad territory which forms the dominion of the
Tzar, we know there have been in the past centuries large,
self-dependent communities, who must have been more or less skilled
in the various arts, but of whom we know only what may be gathered
from half-obliterated ruins of temples and of tombs. The obscurity
which envelops the early periods of Russian history is well known to
be more impenetrable than that of nearly any other civilized region
of the globe. If there can be said to be a Russian style of
architecture, it is a conglomerate, in which the Byzantine
predominates, brought hither from Constantinople with Christianity.
St. Petersburg is not without its triumphal arches. Two very noble
and elaborate structures of this character connect the city with its
most important territories,--the one on the road to Narva, the other
on that leading to Moscow. The first named is specially noticeable,
and was built to commemorate the victorious return of the Russian
troops in 1815. The arch is supported by lofty metal columns, and
surmounted by a triumphal car drawn by six bronze horses, which have
never made a journey abroad like those in the piazza of St. Mark. In
the car is a colossal figure of Victory crowned with a laurel wreath
and holding emblems of war.