On the Road to Moscow. -- Russian Peasantry. -- Military Station
Masters. -- Peat Fuel for the War-Ships. -- Farm Products. --
Scenery. -- Wild-Flowers. -- City of Tver. -- Inland Navigation.
-- The Great River Volga. -- The Ancient Muscovite Capital. --
Spires and Minarets. -- A Russian Mecca. -- Pictorial Signs. --
The Kremlin. -- The Royal Palace. -- King of Bells. -- Cathedral
of St. Basil. -- The Royal Treasury. -- Church of Our Saviour. --
Chinese City. -- Rag Fair. -- Manufactures.
The distance from St. Petersburg to Moscow is a little over four
hundred miles, the railroad built by American contractors having been
constructed absolutely upon a straight line, without regard to
population or the situation of considerable towns lying near the
route. The Russians measure distance by versts. The line between the
two cities is six hundred and four versts in length, which is
equivalent to four hundred and three English miles. At the time when
the route for the railroad was surveying there was a great diversity
of interest developed as to the exact course it should follow, and
bitter disputes grew up between individuals and communities. These
varied antagonistic ideas at last culminated in so decided an
expression of feeling that the commissioners having the matter in
charge were forced to appeal to the Emperor to settle the matter. He
listened to the statement of facts, examined the topographical maps
laid before him representing the country over which the proposed road
was to pass, and settled the matter in true autocratic style. Taking
a rule, he laid it upon the map between the two cities and drew with
a pencil a perfectly straight line from one to the other, saying to
his commissioners, "Build the road exactly upon that line;" and it
was done. The cars upon this route carry the traveller directly into
the heart of Russia. One is apt to become a little impatient at the
moderate speed attained upon the railroads in this country,
twenty-five miles per hour being the average rate of progress. Yet
the roads are remarkably well built, and the rolling stock, as a
rule, is superior to that generally found in Southern Europe. It is a
remarkable fact that at the breaking out of the Crimean war there
were less than eight hundred miles of railroad in the Tzar's entire
dominions, while to-day there are about twenty thousand miles of
well-constructed and efficient roads of this character, forming a
complete system permeating all populous sections of the country; and
to this may be added an annual increase of from six to eight hundred
miles. Had Nicholas I. possessed the means of moving large bodies of
troops with promptness from one part of his extended domain to
another which now exist, England and France would have found their
dearly-bought and but partially-achieved victory in the Crimea an
impossibility. While her enemies possessed rapid transit from all
points, and open communication with their base of supplies both by
steamboat and railroad, Russia's soldiers had hundreds of miles to
march on foot, over nearly impassable roads, in order to reach the
seat of war. Now the Emperor can concentrate troops at any desired
point as promptly as any other European power.
On the trip from St. Petersburg to Moscow one proceeds through
scenery of the most monotonous and, we must add, of the most
melancholy character,--flat and featureless, made up of forests of
fir-trees, interspersed with the white birch and long reaches of
wide, cheerless, deserted plains. The dense forest forms a prominent
feature of Russia north of the line of travel between the two great
cities, covering in that region fully a third part of the surface of
the country; indeed, the largest forest in Europe is that of
Yolskoniki, near the source of the Volga. On the contrary, to the
south of Moscow the vast plains or steppes are quite free from wood,
in fact only too often consisting of mere sandy deserts, unfit for
habitation. It seemed as though no country could be more thinly
inhabited or more wearisomely tame. Now and again a few sheep were
seen cropping the thin brown moss and straggling verdure, tended by a
boy clad in a fur cap and skin capote, forming a strong contrast to
his bare legs and feet. Few people are seen and no considerable
communities, though occasional sections exhibit fair cultivation.
This is partly explained by the fact that the road was built simply
to connect Moscow and St. Petersburg, as already explained. Though
inhabited for centuries by fierce and active races, the appearance
here is that of primitiveness; the log-cabins seem like temporary
expedients,--wooden tents, as it were. The men and women who are seen
at the stations are of the Calmuck type, the ugliest of all humanity,
with high cheek-bones, flattened noses, dull gray eyes,
copper-colored hair, and bronzed complexions. Their food is not of a
character to develop much physical comeliness. The one vegetable
which the Russian peasant cultivates is cabbage; this mixed with
dried mushrooms, and rarely anything else, makes the soup upon which
he lives. Add to this soup a porridge made of maize, and we have
about the entire substance of their regular food. If they produce
some pork and corn, butter and cheese, these are sold at the nearest
market, and are of far too dainty a character for them to indulge in,
since a certain amount of money must be raised somehow for the annual
visit of the tax-gatherer. We are speaking of the humble masses; of
course there are some thrifty peasants, who manage to live on a more
liberal scale, and to provide better subsistence for their families,
but they form the exception. The railroad is owned and operated by
the Government, and it was a little ludicrous to see the
station-masters in full uniform wherever the train stopped, with
their swords and spurs clanking upon the wooden platforms. A naval
officer might with just as much propriety wear spurs upon the
quarter-deck as a local railroad agent on shore. But the customs here
are unlike those of other lands; Russia resembles herself alone.
With the exception of the provinces which border on the Caucasus, all
Russia is prairie-like in surface. The moderate slopes and elevations
of the Urals scarcely break this vast plain which covers so large a
share of the globe. Two fifths of European Russia are covered with
woods, interspersed with morass and arable land; but as regards fuel,
the peat beds in the central regions are practically inexhaustible,
forming a cheap and ever-present means for the production of heat in
the long dreary winters, as well as for steam-producing purposes on
railroads and in manufactories. In the general absence of coal mines,
the importance of the peat-product can hardly be over-estimated. It
is considered by consumers that the same cubic quantity of peat will
yield one third more heat in actual use than wood, retaining it
longer; besides which it possesses some other minor advantages over
the product of the forest. At some points on the line of the railroad
immense mounds of peat were observed which had been mined, dried, and
stacked for future use by the employees of the Government. The
visible amount of the article was often so great as to be quite
beyond estimate by a casual observer. The long broad stacks in more
than one instance covered several acres of land, closely ranged with
narrow road-ways between them. They were twenty feet or more in
height, and conical-shaped to shed the rain. Prepared with rock-oil,
coal-dust, and some other combustible, we were told that this peat
had been successfully used on the Russian war-steamers, proving
superior to coal in the ordinary form, besides taking up much less
room in the ships' bunks. As to procure fuel for her ships of war has
been a problem difficult to solve heretofore, this immense storage of
peat looked to us as if designed to meet this special purpose. The
peasantry, as we have said, are generally quite poor, though many of
them now own their little farms, which the want of pecuniary means
compels them to work with the most primitive tools; besides which
they are entirely unaided by the light of modern agricultural
experience. No other country, however, is so rich in horses, mines of
gold, silver, copper, and precious stones, or in the more useful
products of iron, lead, and zinc. The fecundity of the Russians is
something elsewhere unequalled; still the inhabitants average but
about fifteen to the square mile, while Germany has nearly eighty,
and England a hundred and fourteen. The average climate is not
unfavorable to health, though there are insalubrious districts whose
condition is traceable to local causes. The birch forests with their
tremulous, silvery aspect, delicate and graceful, increase as one
penetrates towards central Russia upon this line; and there is ample
evidence of fair fertility of soil, which is by no means made the
most of. Rye, barley, oats, and flax seem to constitute the
principal crops under cultivation: while it was observed that nearly
every cabin, however humble, had its low, sheltered line of
rudely-constructed beehives, honey taking the place of sugar among
the common people. The villages were of rare occurrence, but when
seen presented road-ways as broad as the boulevards of great cities,
yet only lined by low, turf-roofed cabins. The winter season is so
long and severe that it is difficult for the peasant to wrest from
the half-reluctant earth sufficient upon which to subsist. He lives
in a log-cabin of his own construction; wife, daughter, and son all
join the father in hard field-labor, not a small share of which was
observed to be ditching, in order to render the marshy soil available
for crops. The brief season must be made the most of, and therefore
many hours are given to work and few to sleep. These peasants are
surrounded by all sorts of superstitions from their very birth. Each
of the many festivals of the year has its strange rites, songs, and
legends. The woods are believed to be inhabited by demons and
water-sprites, and peopled by invisible dwarfs and genii. They still
trust to charms and incantations for the cure of diseases, like the
Lapps and other semi-barbarians, while their rude log-cabins are but
one degree better than the habitations of these nomads. Nothing could
be more simple than the interior arrangements of their cabins, never
omitting, however, the picture of some saint, before which a lamp is
kept burning day and night. There is always a rude table, some pine
benches, and a huge stove. A wooden shelf raised a few feet from the
floor is the sleeping-place, and the bedding consists of sheep-skins,
the condition of which, long used and seldom if ever washed, may be
imagined. A painted frame-house is hardly to be seen outside of the
large towns; no peasant would aspire to such a luxury.
Forests of such density of undergrowth as to defy ingress to man
frequently line the railway for miles together; but the dull, dreary
loneliness of the way is relieved by occasional glimpses of
wild-flowers scattered along the road-side in great variety,
diffusing indescribable freshness. Among them, now and again, a tall,
glutinous, scarlet poppy would rear its gaudy head, nodding lazily in
the currents of air, and leading one to wonder how it came in such
company. A peculiar little blue-flower was frequently observed with
yellow petals, which seemed to look up from the surrounding nakedness
and desolation with the appealing expression of human eyes.
Snow-white daisies and the delicate little hare-bell came also into
view at intervals, struggling for a brief, sad existence, unless the
elfin crew consoled them beneath the moon's pale ray. We must not
fail to mention that the stations are beautified by floral displays
of no mean character. It seems that professional gardeners travel on
the line, remaining long enough at each place to organize the skilful
culture of garden-plants by the keeper's family during the summer
season; but it made one shudder to imagine what must be the aspect of
this region during the long frost-locked Russian winter.
On reaching Tver we crossed the Volga by a high iron bridge,--one of
the greatest rivers of the world, the Mississippi of Russia. The
average traveller does not stop at Tver any longer than is necessary
for the purpose of the railroad officials, but it is a considerable
and rising place, especially since the railroad between the two great
cities chanced to run through its borders. It contains a little over
thirty thousand inhabitants; has its Kremlin, cathedral, theatre,
library, and public parks. An English-speaking Russian, evidently a
man of business and affairs who was bound for Moscow, gave us a very
good idea of Tver. Its locality upon the river makes it the recipient
of great stores of grain, wool, and hemp for distribution among
western manufacturers. Wood-cutting and rafting also engage a large
number of the population, the product in the shape of dimension
lumber, deals, etc. finally being shipped to western European ports.
Our informant also spoke of this being the centre of an intelligent
community scarcely exceeded by the best society of St. Petersburg.
From this point the river is navigable for over two thousand miles to
far off Astrakhan. In a country so extensive, and which possesses so
small a portion of seaboard, rivers have a great importance; and
until the introduction of the growing system of railroads, they
formed nearly the only available means of transportation. The canals,
rivers, and lakes are no longer navigated by barges propelled by
horse-power. Steam-tugs and small passenger steamboats now tow great
numbers of flat-bottomed boats, which are universally of large
capacity. Freight by this mode of conveyance is very cheap; we were
told at Nijni Novgorod that goods could be transported to that great
business centre from the Ural Mountains, a distance of nearly
fourteen hundred miles by river, for twenty-five shillings per ton.
The Volga is the largest river in Europe; measured through all its
windings, it has a length of twenty-four hundred miles from its rise
among the Valdai Hills, five hundred and fifty feet above the
sea-level, to its _debouchure_ into the Caspian. Many cities and
thriving towns are picturesquely situated mostly on its right bank,
where available sites upon elevated ground have been found,--as in
the case of Kostroma, and also at Nijni-Novgorod, where it is joined
by the Oka. In addition to these rivers there are also the Obi, the
Yenisei, the Lena, the Don, and the Dnieper, all rivers of the first
class, whose entire course from source to mouth is within Russian
territory, saying nothing of the several large rivers tributary to
these. We must not forget, however, those frontier rivers, the
Danube, the Amoor, and the Oxus, all of which are auxiliary to the
great system of canals that connect the headwaters of all the
important rivers of Russia. The Volga by this system communicates
with the White Sea, the Baltic, and the Euxine,--statistics showing
that no less than fifteen thousand vessels navigate this great river
annually.
While we are placing these interesting facts before the reader
relating to the material greatness and facilities of the Empire, we
are also approaching its ancient capital, upon which the far-reaching
past has laid its consecrating hand. It is found to stand upon a vast
plain, through which winds the Moskva River, from which the city
derives its name. The villages naturally become more populous as we
advance, and gilded domes and cupolas occasionally loom up above the
tree-tops on either side of the road, indicating a Greek church here
and there amid isolated communities. As in approaching Cairo one sees
first the pyramids of Gheezeh and afterwards the graceful minarets
and towers of the Egyptian city gleaming through the golden haze, so
as we gradually emerge from the thinly-inhabited, half-cultivated
Russian plains and draw near the capital, first there comes into view
the massive towers of the Kremlin and the Church of Our Saviour with
its golden dome, followed by the hundreds of glittering steeples,
belfries, towers, and star-gilded domes which characterize the
ancient city. We were told that the many-towered sacred edifices of
Russia have a religious significance in the steeples, domes, and
spires with which they are so profusely decorated. Usually the middle
projection is the most lofty, and is surrounded by four others, the
forms and positions varying with a significance too subtile for one
to understand who is not initiated in the tenets of the Greek Church.
Though some of these temples have simply a cupola in the shape of an
inverted bowl, terminating in a gilded point capped by a cross and
crescent, few of them have less than five or six superstructures, and
some have sixteen, of the most whimsical device,--bright, gilded
chains depending from them, affixed to the apex of each pinnacle.
When one looks for the first time upon the roofs of the Muscovite
city as it lies under the glare of the warm summer sun, the scene is
both fascinating and confusing. The general aspect is far more
picturesque at Moscow than at the capital on the Neva, because the
city is here located upon undulating and in some parts even hilly
ground; besides which St. Petersburg is decidedly European, while
Moscow is Tartar in its very atmosphere. The first is the visible
growth of modern ideas; the last is the symbol of the past.
Though Moscow has been three times nearly destroyed,--first, by the
Tartars in the fourteenth century; second, by the Poles in the
seventeenth century; and again, at the time of the French invasion
under Napoleon, in 1812,--still it has sprung from its ashes each
time as if by magic power, and has never lost its original character,
being a more splendid and prosperous capital than ever before since
its foundation, and is to-day rapidly increasing in the number of its
population. The romantic character of its history, so mingled with
protracted wars, civil conflicts, sieges, and conflagrations, makes
it seem like a fabulous city. The aggregate of the population is not
much if any less than that of St. Petersburg, while the territory
which it covers will measure over twenty miles in circumference. "In
spite of all the ravages and vicissitudes through which Moscow has
passed in the thousand years of its existence," said a resident to
us, "probably no city in the world is less changed from its earliest
years." Descriptions of the place written by travellers nearly three
centuries since might pass for a correct exhibit of the ancient
capital to-day. The impress of the long Tartar occupation in the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries still remains both in the
architecture and the manners and customs of the people, while much
of its original barbaric splendor permeates everything. At
St. Petersburg the overpowering influence of European civilization
is keenly felt; here, that of Oriental mysticism still prevails.
The city is unique taken as a whole. One seems to breathe in a
semi-Asiatic barbarism while strolling through its quaint streets and
antiquated quarters. There are no avenues long enough to form a
perspective, the streets winding like a river through a broad meadow,
but undulating so as occasionally to give one a bird's-eye view of
the neighborhood. Still there are modern sections which might be
taken out of Vienna, London, Dresden, or Paris, for one finds
characteristics of them all combined mingled with the gilded domes of
an Indian city, and the graceful minarets of Egypt. A certain modern
varnish is now and then observable. Gas has been introduced, and
tramways are laid in some of the principal thoroughfares. Like the
Manzanares at Madrid or the Arno at Florence, the Moskva is not a
deep river, though its channel conveys ten times the amount of water
that flows in those just named. It winds ribbon-like in and about the
city, adding greatly to its picturesqueness as seen from an
elevation. True, this city is in a central position as regards the
length and breadth of Russia, but that is about all one can say in
favor of the location. St. Petersburg reclaimed from the Finland
swamps has the commerce of the world at its door, and therein
presents a _raison d'etre_, which almost excuses the labor and loss
of life and treasure which it cost.
Moscow is to the Russian what Mecca is to the pious Moslem, and he
calls it by the endearing name of "Mother." Like Kief and the
Troitzkoi, it is the object of pious pilgrimage to thousands
annually, who come from long distances and always on foot. The
ludicrously illustrated signs are as numerous here as they are in the
capital, often running into caricature. For instance, a fruit-dealer
puts out a gaudily-painted scene representing a basket of fruit and
its carrier coming to grief, the basket and contents falling from the
carrier's head and the fruit flying in all directions. A milk-shop
exhibited a crude sign depicting a struggle between a hungry calf and
a dairy-maid as to which should obtain the lacteal deposit from the
cow. These signs answer their purpose, and speak a mute language
intelligible to the Russian multitude. The city is said to have once
contained "forty times forty churches and chapels," but it has not so
many to-day, though there must be between six and eight hundred. The
ambassadors of Holstein said in 1633 that there were two thousand
churches and chapels in the capital. The Kremlin which crowns a hill
is the central point of the city, and is enclosed by high walls,
battlement rising upon battlement, flanked by massive towers. The
name is Tartar, and signifies a fortress. As such it is unequalled
for its vastness, its historical associations, and the wealth of its
sanctuaries. It was founded six or seven hundred years ago, and is an
enclosure studded with cathedrals covering broad streets and spacious
squares. That of Krasnoi exhibits a bronze monument in its centre
erected in honor of Minimi and Tojarsky, two Muscovite patriots. The
Kremlin is a citadel and a city within itself, being the same to
Moscow that the Acropolis was to Athens. The buildings are a strange
conglomerate of architecture, including Tartarian, Hindu, Chinese,
and Gothic, exhibited in cathedrals, chapels, towers, convents, and
palaces. We did not count them, but were told that there were
thirty-two churches within the walls. The cathedral of the Assumption
is perhaps the most noteworthy, teeming as it does with historic
interest, and being filled with tombs and pictures from its dark
agate floor to the vast cupola. Here, from the time of Ivan the Great
to that of the present Emperor, the Tzars have all been crowned; and
here Peter placed the royal insignia upon the head of his second
wife, the Livonian peasant-girl. One picture of the Virgin in this
church is surrounded by diamonds and other precious stones which are
valued at half a million of dollars. It is to be presumed that on the
occasion of an Emperor's coronation, or that of some great religious
festival, the squares, streets, and areas generally of the Kremlin
become crowded with ecclesiastics, citizens, strangers, soldiers, and
courtiers in gala array; but it seemed a little dreary and lonely to
us amid all its antiquity and mildewed splendor. Silence reigned
supreme, save for the steady tread of the sentinels; all was
loneliness, but for the presence of the sight-seer and his guide.
However busy the city close at hand, commerce and trade do not enter
within the walls of the Kremlin. One's thoughts were busy enough,
over-stimulated in fact, while strolling through the apartments of
the Imperial Palace. In imagination, these low-studded apartments,
secret divans and closets became repeopled by their former tenants.
It was remembered that even to the days of Peter the Great Oriental
seclusion was the fate of empresses and princesses, upon whom the
highest state officials might not dare to look,--whose faces in short
were always hidden. But scandal says that thus unnaturally secluded,
their woman wit taught them ways of compensation; for in spite of
guards and bolts, they received at times visits from their secret
lovers, the great risk encountered but adding zest to such
clandestine achievements. To be sure, as a penalty a head was now and
then severed from the owner's body, and some gay Lothario was knouted
and sent off to Siberia to work out his life in the mines; but that
did not change human nature, to which royalty is as amenable as the
rest of creation. The grand Palace as it now stands was built by the
Emperor Nicholas, or rather it was repaired and enlarged by him,
embracing all the ancient portions as originally designed, but the
rest of the structure so extended as to afford suites of royal state
apartments which are unsurpassed by any palace in the world, either
in spaciousness, magnificence of finish or furniture. The Throne Room
is beyond comparison the most superb apartment of its character which
the author has ever seen. Magnificent as the interior is, the
external architectural effect of the Palace is in such decided
contrast with that of the surrounding churches, monasteries, towers,
and sacred gates as to create a singular incongruity.
The venerable, crenellated walls of the Kremlin, which measure about
two miles in circumference, forming nearly a triangle, are pierced by
five gates of an imposing character, to each of which is attributed a
religious or historical importance. Often have invading hosts
battered at these gates, and sometimes gained an entrance; but
strange to say, they have always in the end been worsted by the
faithful Muscovites. Over the Redeemer's Gate, so called, is affixed
a wonder-working picture of the Saviour, which is an object of great
and universal veneration. No one, not even the Emperor, passes
beneath it without removing his hat and bowing the head. A miracle is
supposed to have been wrought in connection with this picture of the
Redeemer at the time when the retreating French made a vain attempt
to blow up the buildings of the Kremlin; hence the special honor
accorded to it. The gate itself was erected in 1491, and is like the
main tower of a large cathedral or an isolated campanile. It is
painted red, with green spires, and flanked on the sides by small
chapels. The National Armory, also within the walls, is of great
interest, quite unsurpassed in its collection of Oriental arms, but
those of all nations are also well represented. It will be remembered
that Moscow was in the olden time as celebrated for the excellence of
its steel weapons, and especially for the temper of its sword blades,
as were Toledo and Damascus. In the grand courtyard of the Kremlin,
near that pillar-like structure the Tower of Ivan, hundreds of
Napoleon's captured cannon lay idly on the earth, recalling the
tragic story of the French invasion; but then it was remembered that
the French have also at Paris their Column of Vendome, the encircling
bas-reliefs of which contain the metal of many captured Russian
cannon. So while scores of battle-torn Muscovite flags hang aloft in
the church of the Invalides at the French capital, the tri-color also
decks the walls of Peter and Paul in the fortifications of St.
Petersburg,--toys in "that mad game the world so loves to play," but,
alas! what do they represent but condensed drops of blood?
Opposite the Arsenal stands the Senate House of Moscow, the High
Court of Appeals, built by Catherine II. The main hall is of great
capacity and magnificence; the whole building underwent complete
restoration in 1866. The summit of the Tower of Ivan the Great,
erected in 1600, affords a widespread view of the city in every
direction; and perhaps it may be said to be the best that can be
obtained. It is one of the most conspicuous structures in the
Kremlin, standing partially by itself, and is seen from a long
distance as one approaches by rail. The tower consists of five
stories, and is three hundred and twenty-five feet in height. The
basement and three stories above it are octagonal, the last
cylindrical, the whole embracing a wild confusion of design. Half-way
up is a gallery from whence the former sovereigns used to harangue
the people. The lower story is a chapel dedicated to Saint John,
while the other stories contain many bells, the heaviest of which, we
were told, weighed over sixty tons. In the upper portion there is a
chime of silver bells which daily ring forth the national anthem at
meridian. The racket and din produced when _all_ the bells in the
tower are rung together, as they are on Easter eve, must be
deafening.
The famous King of Bells of which we have all heard so much, and
which according to the records was tolled at the birth of Peter the
Great, stands near the foot of the Tower of Ivan. It is broken, but
weighs in its present condition nearly four hundred and fifty
thousand pounds. The piece broken from its side, which is seen close
at hand, weighs eleven tons. The height of the bell is twenty-one
feet. When it was cast in 1730, by order of the Empress Anne, the
gold, silver, and copper consumed in the operation weighed ninety-one
hundred and twenty tons, valued at the royal sum of half a million
dollars. History tells us that the casting took place with religious
ceremonies, and royal ladies vied with one another in throwing their
golden ornaments into the great caldron which supplied the molten
metal. Doubtless this very generosity of contribution only served to
impart brittleness to the bell. As to improving the purity of tone,
modern experience shows that foreign metals, however pure in
themselves, would detract from that. After the great bell fell from
the supporting-tower,--which was destroyed by fire, and which is
supposed to have stood very nearly over the spot where the bell now
rests,--it lay buried in the earth for over a hundred years, until it
was dug up and placed on its present foundation by order of the late
Emperor Nicholas I. As we stood there beside the monster bell, a
shudder passed over us sufficiently visible to attract the
observation of the guide. "Is monsieur cold?" he asked. "No, it was
only a passing thought that moved us," was the reply. "Ah! something
of far-off America?" he suggested. "Nearer than that," was the
response. "It was the recollection of that terrible fifty-three
thousand pounds of bell-metal which swings in the cupola of
St. Isaac's. If that comparatively baby-bell could make one so
thoroughly uncomfortable, what might not this giant do under similar
circumstances!" It is doubtful, however, if the guide clearly
understood to what the author referred.
The most strikingly fantastic and remarkable structure
architecturally in all Moscow is the Cathedral of St. Basil, which is
absolutely top-heavy with spires, domes, and minarets, ornamented in
the most irregular and unprecedented manner. Yet as a whole the
structure is not inharmonious with its unique surroundings, the
semi-Oriental, semi-barbaric atmosphere in which it stands. It is not
within the walls of the Kremlin, but is located just outside and near
the Redeemer's Gate, from which point the best view of it may be
enjoyed. No two of its towering projections are alike, either in
height, shape, or ornamentation. The coloring throughout is as
various as the shape, being in yellow, green, blue, golden-gilt, and
silver. Each spire and dome has its glittering cross; and when the
sun shines upon the group, it is like the bursting of a rocket at
night against a background of azure blue. It is of this singular,
whimsical, and picturesque structure that the story is told how Ivan
the Terrible caused the architect's eyes to be blinded forever when
his work was completed and approved, in order that he might never be
able to produce another temple like it. The reader need hardly credit
the story however, since it has been attributed to so many other
structures and individuals as greatly to impair its application in
this instance. Space would not suffice us were we to attempt to
describe the interior of St. Basil; but it is as peculiar as is the
exterior. Each of the domes and towers forms the apex to a separate
chapel, so that the cathedral is divided into a dozen and more altars
dedicated to as many different saints. The interior is painted
throughout in arabesque. Napoleon ordered his soldiers to destroy
this cathedral; but fortunately, in the haste and confusion attending
the retreat of the French army, the command was not executed. While
looking upon St. Basil, with its myriad pinnacles flashing in the
rays of the sun, it was natural to recall Hawthorne's quaint idea,
that were edifices built to the sound of music some would appear to
be constructed under the influence of grave and solemn tones, others,
like this unique temple, to have danced forth to light fantastic airs
and waltzes. In front of the many-domed cathedral is a circular stone
from whence the Tzars of old were accustomed to proclaim their
edicts; and it is also known as the Lobnoe Miesto, that is, "The
Place of the Skull," because of the many executions that have taken
place upon it. Ivan the Terrible rendered the spot infamous by the
series of executions which he ordered to take place here, the victims
being mostly innocent and patriotic persons of both sexes. Here
Prince Scheviref was impaled by order of this same tyrant, and here
several others of royal birth were recklessly sacrificed. In looking
upon St. Basil one is almost sure to be reminded of the Alhambra, in
Moorish Grenada. Notwithstanding its strangely conglomerate
character, no one can say that it is not symmetrical and justly
balanced in its various lines; still, so unreal is its whole as to
seem like a creation in some magic Arabian tale, an unsubstantial
structure of the imagination.
The Treasury of the Kremlin, erected so late as 1851, is a historical
museum of crowns, thrones, state costumes, and royal regalia
generally, including in the latter department the royal robes of
Peter the Great; also his crown in which there are about nine
hundred large diamonds, and that of his widow Catherine I., which
contains about three thousand of the same precious stones, besides
one grand ruby of extraordinary value. One comes away from the
labyrinth of palaces, churches, arsenals, museums, and treasury of
the citadel, after viewing their accumulation of riches, absolutely
dazed and entirely surfeited. Properly to examine the Treasury alone
would require many days. It is a marvel of accumulated riches, the
proud spoils of time. Here are to be seen the crowns of many now
defunct kingdoms, such as those of Kazan, Georgia, Astrakhan, and
Poland,--all heavy with gold and precious stones. The crown-jewels of
England and Germany combined would hardly equal in value these
treasures. The most venerable of the crowns which were shown us here
is that of Monomachus, brought from Byzantium more than eight hundred
years ago. This emblem is covered with jewels of the choicest
character, among which are steel-white diamonds and rubies of
pigeon's-blood hue, such as do not find their way into jewellers'
shops in our day. Think of the centuries this vast wealth has lain
idle upon these royal crowns, and of the aggregate sum in current
money which it represents; then calculate the annual loss of
interest, say at three per cent per annum, and the result will reach
a sum approximating to the amount of the National debt of Great
Britain!
While viewing the varied attractions within the walls of the Kremlin
one could not but recall a page from history, and remember the
brave, heroic, self-sacrificing means which the people of this
Asiatic city adopted to repel the invading and victorious enemy. It
was an act of sublime desperation to place the torch within the
sanctuary of Russia and to destroy all, sacred and profane, so that
the enemy should also be destroyed. It was a deed of undaunted
patriotism, and the grandest sacrifice ever made to national honor by
any people. "Who would have thought that a nation would burn its own
capital?" said Napoleon.
The Church of our Saviour is perhaps one of the finest as it is also
the most modern cathedral in the country, its snow-white walls,
capped by five golden domes, being the most prominent object to meet
the eye as one looks at the city from the high terrace of the
Kremlin. It stands upon a natural rise of ground, a plateau
overlooking the Bridge of Moskva Rekoi, quite by itself, covering
seventy-three thousand square feet, surrounded by open grounds, which
are planted with flowering shrubs, blooming flowers, and thrifty
young trees. Begun in 1812 to commemorate the deliverance of Moscow
from the French, the edifice has but just been completed. It is in
the Graeco-Byzantine style; the top of the cross upon the centre
cupola is three hundred and forty feet above the ground. The
foundation is of granite, but the entire building is faced with white
marble. The interior is gorgeously decorated with frescos from
Biblical and Russian history, and is dazzling in its vast richness of
detail. The interior of St. Isaac's at St. Petersburg has been
closely imitated in some important particulars. The entire floor is
of marble, and the walls are lined with exquisite varieties of the
same. Here on the 25th of December is annually celebrated, with great
pomp and ceremony, the retreat of the French invaders from Russian
soil. "God with us," is the motto sculptured over the grand entrance
of this magnificent temple, the aggregate cost of which was over
twelve millions of dollars.
Lying on the east side of the Kremlin and adjoining its walls is a
section of the city also enclosed within high walls, known as the
Chinese City. It is a queer division of the metropolis, with towers
and buttresses like a fortification, called by the Russians "Kitai
Gorod." Herein assemble the thieves, pickpockets, and rogues
generally, who are to be seen throughout the day crowded together in
one of the largest squares, holding a sort of rag fair to exchange
their ill-gotten goods with one another. To the stranger they present
the aspect of a reckless mob, composed of the very dregs of the
population, and ready to engage in any overt act. Unmolested by the
police they busy themselves exchanging old boots and shoes, half-worn
clothing, stolen trifles, and various articles of domestic use, all
amid a deafening hubbub. The entire district is not however given up
to this "racket," but contains some fine shops, comfortable
dwellings, and two excellent hotels, as Russian hotels are rated. One
passes through this section in approaching the Redeemer's Gate from
the east side, but will wisely avoid all personal contact with the
doubtful denizens of Rag Fair.
It was a source of surprise to the author to find Moscow so great a
manufacturing centre, more than fifty thousand of the population
being regularly employed in manufacturing establishments. There are
over a hundred cotton mills within the limits of the city, and
between fifty and sixty woollen mills; also thirty-three silk mills,
and a score of kindred establishments in the manufacturing line. It
appeared, however, that enterprise in this direction was confined
almost entirely to textile fabrics. The city is fast becoming the
centre of a grand railroad system, affording the means of rapid and
easy distribution for the several products of these mills, and there
is reason to anticipate their steady increase.