Domestic Life in Moscow. -- Oriental Seclusion of Women. -- The
Foundling Hospital. -- A Christian Charity. -- A Metropolitan
Centre. -- City Museum. -- The University. -- Tea-Drinking. --
Pleasure Gardens. -- Drosky Drivers. -- Riding-School. --
Theatres. -- Universal Bribery. -- Love of Country. -- Russians
as Linguists. -- Sparrow Hill. -- Petrofski Park. -- Muscovite
Gypsies. -- Fast Life. -- Intemperance. -- A Famous Monastery. --
City Highways. -- Sacred Pigeons. -- Beggars.
The domestic life of the people of Moscow (we speak of the
acknowledged upper class) is quite Oriental in its character. The
stranger, no matter how well he comes accredited, when he visits a
dwelling-house is hospitably entertained, as hospitality is
interpreted here; but it is by the master only. The ladies of the
household are very rarely presented to him, and are seldom seen under
any circumstances, even the opera being tolerated at Moscow half
under protest, on account of its bringing ladies into a more intimate
relation with the world at large. To the domestic caller scalding tea
is served in tumblers, with slices of lemon floating on the top; but
no other refreshments are offered. The host is courteous, he invites
you to drive with him, and seems glad to show you the monuments and
famous localities, and to give any desired information; but his
family, harem-like, are kept out of sight. Even a courteous inquiry
as to their health is received with a degree of surprise. The ladies
of Cairo and Constantinople are scarcely more secluded. This,
however, may be termed old Russian style; young Russia is improving
upon Eastern customs, and is becoming slowly more Europeanized. These
remarks apply less to St. Petersburg than to Moscow. As the Asiatic
comes more closely in contact with Europeans he assimilates with
their manners and customs, and women assume a different domestic
relationship. Thus ladies and their partially grown-up children,
accompanied by husband and friends, are not infrequently seen driving
in public at the capital; but scarcely ever is this the case at
Moscow. Indeed, we saw no instance of it here. Men were seen at the
public places of amusement, parks, tea-gardens, and the like,
accompanied by women; but they were not ladies, nor were they their
wives or daughters.
One of the most interesting and important institutions of the city is
its remarkable Foundling Hospital, which is conducted by the
Government at an annual expense of five millions of dollars. The
royal treasury appropriates a large portion of this sum each year to
its support, besides which it is most liberally endowed by private
bequests. The building which is occupied by the hospital, or rather
the series of buildings, forms a large quadrangular group on the
north bank of the Moskva, half a mile east of the Kremlin. The length
of the frontage is fully a thousand feet, enclosing finely-kept,
spacious gardens which cover several acres of ground, divided
between pleasant paths, greensward, and shady groves. Here, on a
sunny afternoon at the close of July, the author saw between fifteen
and sixteen hundred infants paraded under the branches of the trees,
sleeping in their tiny cradles or in the sturdy arms of the
country-bred nurses, of whom there were over five hundred. These were
all wet-nurses, each hearty, well-fed peasant woman being expected to
nurse two infants. These women were all clad in snow-white cotton
gowns and muslin caps, appearing scrupulously neat and clean, the
muslin about head and face contrasting strongly with their nut-brown
complexions. Some of the little ones who seemed to thrive best by
such treatment are fed with the bottle, while careful and scientific
care is afforded to each and all alike. Besides three or four regular
attending physicians, the arrangements are presided over and the
detail carefully carried out by a corps of trained matrons, the most
thorough order, discipline, and system being observed as existing in
every department. Just within the garden gate, at the main entrance,
a bevy of thirty or forty children, rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed boys
and girls, not over six years of age, were amusing themselves in
childish games; but they came instantly to us with smiling, happy
faces, extending their little hands as a token of welcome to the
stranger. Selecting any one of these promising children, the thought
occurred how proud many a rich family would be to have such a one for
its rightful heir; and then we wondered what might be the future of
these graduating from here under the ban of a clouded parentage. It
seems that a few children are retained until about the age of these,
though the number is comparatively small. Their contented, vigorous,
healthful appearance showed how judicious and well-applied must be
the system that could produce such physical results.
"There is no denying the fact that some of these boys have princely
blood in their veins," said our intelligent guide, pointing to a
merry group who were playing together. "Secrets are well kept in
Russia. They will be carefully watched, and their well-being
indirectly advanced. By and by they may get into the army, and be
gradually promoted if they are deserving, becoming officers by a
favor which they cannot analyze, and perhaps finally achieving a name
and filling a high station. We have many such instances in the army
and civil service,--men filling important positions, of whose birth
and early antecedents no questions are asked. Sometimes marked and
special resemblances may possibly lead to shrewd surmises, but no one
gives such thoughts the form of words."
This institution was founded by Catherine II. in 1762, that at
St. Petersburg having been established a few years subsequent; but
the latter now equals the parent establishment both in size and in
the importance of the work which it accomplishes. The average receipt
of infants in each of these hospitals is over a thousand per month at
the present time, and perhaps eleven hundred would be even nearer
the aggregate. The hospitals are kept open night and day. No infant,
whatever its condition, is ever refused shelter, good care, and
proper nourishment. The little creatures are not left in secret, as
is the case in most similar European institutions, or by unknown
parties, but are openly received, no disguise whatever attending the
relinquishment. Probably one third of the children born in the two
great capitals of this country are illegitimate, while many who are
born of married parents are also brought here because of the
inability of their natural protectors properly to provide for them.
It is this last feature which leavens the whole system in the eyes of
the million; that is to say, because a mother is seen giving up her
child here it does not follow that it is illegitimate. But be the
individual circumstances what they may, the Government cheerfully
takes charge of all the infants that are offered. The only question
which is asked of those resigning their offspring is whether it has
been baptized by a priest, and what name is desired to be given to
it. The little one is then registered upon the books of the
establishment, and a metallic number placed about its neck, never to
be removed until it finally leaves the charge of the institution. As
soon as the children become a month or six weeks old and are
considered to be in perfect health, they are given in charge of
country people who have infants of their own. These peasants are paid
a regular weekly stipend for the support of the little strangers,
rendering an account monthly of their charge, which must also be
exhibited in person. All are under the supervision of a visiting
committee, or bureau of matrons, having no other occupation, and who
must regularly weigh the children and enter their progress or
otherwise upon the books of the hospital, an account being opened for
each infant received. One would think that among such large numbers
as are accommodated monthly confusion would ensue; but so perfect is
the system of accounts, that any child can be promptly traced and its
present and past antecedents made known upon reasonable application.
A mother, by proving her relationship and producing the receipt given
to her for her child, can at any time up to ten years of age reclaim
it, first proving her ability properly to support and care for her
offspring. If a child is not reclaimed by its parents at ten or
twelve years of age, it is apprenticed to some useful occupation or
trade, and in the mean time has been regularly sent to school. The
neatness, system, and general excellence observed at these Foundling
Hospitals is worthy of emulation everywhere, and the whole plan
seemed to us to be a great Christian charity, though no sensible
person can be blind to the fact that there are two sides to so
important a conclusion. There are many political economists who hold
that such a system encourages illegitimacy and vice. A late writer
upon the subject, whose means of observation may have been much more
extended than those of the author of these pages, has spoken so
decidedly that it is but proper to present his convictions in this
connection. He says: "Unfortunately this famous refuge [the
establishment in Moscow] has corrupted all the villages round the
city. Peasant girls who have forgotten to get married send their
babies to the institution, and then offer themselves in person as
wet-nurses. Having tattooed their offspring, each mother contrives to
find her own, and takes charge of it by a private arrangement with
the nurse to whom it has been officially assigned. As babies are much
alike, the authorities cannot detect these interchanges, and do not
attempt to do so. In due time the mother returns to her village with
her own baby, whose board will be well paid for by the State at the
rate of eight shillings per month; and perhaps next year and the year
after she will begin the same game over again."
We were informed that a large proportion of the boys who survive
become farm-laborers, and that many of the girls are trained to be
hospital nurses; others are apprenticed to factory work. If any of
the latter become married at or before the age of eighteen, the State
furnishes them with a modest trousseau. Up to the period of eighteen
years, both sexes are considered to be "on the books of the
institution," as it is termed, and to be amenable to its direction.
When the young men arrive at this age, they are furnished with a good
serviceable working-suit of clothes, and also a better suit for
holiday wear, together with thirty roubles in money. These gratuities
serve as a premium upon good behavior and obedience to authority. One
sad feature of the system was admitted by the officials, and that is
the large percentage of the mortality which seems inevitable among
the infants. Notwithstanding every effort to reduce the aggregate of
deaths, still it is estimated as high as seventy per cent; or in
other words, not more than thirty out of each hundred admitted to the
Foundling Hospitals live to the age of twenty-one years. This heavy
loss of life is traceable in a large degree to hereditary disease,
not to the want of suitable treatment after the children come into
the charge of the institution.
Moscow is isolated in a degree, having no populous neighborhood or
suburb. The forest and the plain creep up to its very walls; outlying
villages and increasing population generally announce the approach to
large cities; but both St. Petersburg and Moscow are peculiar in this
respect. This city, however, as we have before remarked, is gradually
becoming the centre of a great net-work of railways, like Chicago;
and therefore the characteristic referred to must gradually
disappear. It is built like Rome upon seven hills, and is the
culminating point of Russian as that capital is of Italian history.
While St. Petersburg is European, and annually growing to be more so,
Moscow is and must continue to be Asiatic. As one gazes about him,
the grandeur, sadness, and vicissitudes of its past, not exceeded by
that of any other capital in the world, crowd upon the memory. In
portions the confusion evinced in its composition of squares,
streets, avenues, and narrow lanes is almost ludicrous and quite
bewildering. There are no long uniform lines of architecture, like
those of the capital on the Neva. Miserable hovels, dirty
court-yards, and vile-smelling stables break the lines everywhere
after one leaves the principal thoroughfares, and not infrequently
even upon them. The barbarous as well as the semi-civilized aspect is
ever present. Mosque, temple, triumphal-arch, cabins, campaniles,
convents, and churches mingle heterogeneously together, as though
they had dropped down indiscriminately upon the banks of the Moskva
without selection of site. After the great conflagration of 1812 the
object must have been to build, and to do so quickly. This was
evidently done without any properly concerted plan, since there is
not a straight street in all Moscow. Around the barriers of the city
however there extends a boulevard, which occupies the site of the old
line of fortifications; which is decked with grassy slopes, limes,
maples, and elms, forming an attractive drive.
The Moscow Museum is a modern establishment, but is rapidly growing
in importance. Here one can study comprehensively the progress of art
and science in Russia during the past century, the chronological
arrangement being excellent, and copied after the system inaugurated
for a similar purpose at Copenhagen. The Museum occupies a fine
building near the new Cathedral of Our Saviour, formerly the palatial
residence of the Pashkof family. Its library already exceeds two
hundred thousand bound volumes, and is especially rich in rare and
ancient manuscripts. The excellent and scientific arrangement of
this entire establishment was a source of agreeable surprise. The
fine-arts department presents some choice paintings and admirable
statuary, both ancient and modern; while the zoological collection
contains much of interest. The favorite seat of learning is the
Moscow University, founded by the Empress Elizabeth, daughter of
Peter the Great, in 1755; its four principal faculties being those of
History, Physics, Jurisprudence, and Medicine. It is a State
institution, under the immediate control of the Minister of Public
Instruction. At this writing, the University has some two thousand
students. The terms of admission, as regards cost to the pupils, are
merely nominal, the advantages being open to all youth above
seventeen, who can pass a satisfactory examination. Here also is
another large and valuable library open to the public, aggregating
over two hundred thousand bound volumes. This liberal multiplication
of educational advantages in the very heart of Oriental Russia is an
evidence of gradual progress, which tells its own story.
It seemed especially odd that a people who drink so profusely of
fermented liquors, should also drink so much tea. It may be doubted
if even the Japanese exceed them in the consumption of this beverage,
and it is certain that the latter people use more tea in proportion
to the number of inhabitants than do the Chinese. At Moscow
tea-drinking is carried to the extreme. The _traktirs_, or
tea-houses, can be found on every street, and are crowded day and
evening by people who in summer sit and perspire over the steaming
decoction, while they talk and chatter like monkeys. The stranger
drops in to see native life, manners, and customs, while he sips
scalding tea like the rest, and listens to the music of the large
organ which generally forms a part of the furniture, and which when
wound up will discourse a score or more of popular waltzes, airs, and
mazurkas. These remarkable musical instruments are manufactured
especially for this region, and frequently cost, as we were told, a
thousand pounds sterling each. The habitues are from all classes of
the populace, soldiers, civilians, priests, and peasants,--these
last, slow, slouching, and shabby, with no coverings to their heads,
except such an abundant growth of coarse sun-bleached hair as to
suggest a weather-beaten hay-stack, "redundant locks, robustious to
no purpose." These peasants, mechanics, and common laborers, though
they drink tumbler after tumbler of nearly boiling hot tea, are only
too apt to wind up their idle occupation by getting disgracefully
tipsy on that fiery liquor corn-brandy, as colorless as water, but as
pungent as _aqua-fortis_. To the tea-gardens in the immediate
environs both sexes resort, and here one sees a very pleasant phase
of Russian life,--tea-drinking _en famille_ among the middle classes.
The article itself is of a superior quality, much more delicate in
flavor than that which is used in England or America; but it is never
made so strong as we are accustomed to take it. Happy family groups
may be seen gathered about the burnished urns in retired nooks, and
even love-episodes are now and then to be witnessed, occurring over
the steaming beverage. These gardens are decorated in the summer
evenings with the gayest of colored paper lanterns,--the flickering,
airy lamps festooned among the tall trees and the low shrubbery, as
they sway hither and thither, resembling clouds of huge fire-flies,
floating at evening over a tropical plantation. There are also
exhibitions nightly of fancy fire-works, minor theatricals, and comic
song-singing. Tramways lead from the centre of the town to these
popular resorts, or a drosky will take one thither at a mere trifling
charge. The drosky drivers of Moscow appear to be one degree more
stupid than those of St. Petersburg, impossible as that may seem.
Like the cocher of Paris they all expect and ask for a _pourboire_.
In the capital on the Neva the driver suggests "Na tchai" (tea), as
you hand him his fare,--that is, he desires a few pennies to procure
a drink of tea; but in Moscow the driver says more honestly, "Na
vodka" (brandy). And yet there are many who are satisfied with the
milder decoction, and will sit and sip it as long as any one will pay
for it,--recalling the jinrikisha men of Yokohama, who seemed to have
no desire for any stimulant but boiling hot tea, and plenty of it.
The drosky drivers of Moscow dress all alike, and precisely like
their brethren in the capital, in long blue padded pelisses, summer
and winter, with a low bell-crowned hat, from beneath which
protrudes an abundance of carrot-colored hair, of the consistency of
dried meadow-grass.
It will interest the traveller to visit briefly the great National
Riding-School of Moscow, a building embracing an area of five hundred
and sixty feet long by one hundred and fifty-eight feet wide. It is
covered with what appears to be a flat roof, but is without
supporting pillars of any sort on the inside. A full regiment of
cavalry can be exercised here with perfect convenience. This was the
largest building in the world unsupported by prop of any kind, until
the St. Pancras railway station was built in London. The interior is
ornamented with bas-reliefs of men in armor and with ancient
trophies. By ascending a winding staircase one can see the net-work
of massive beams which sustain the roof, a perfect forest of stays
and rafters. In a climate such as prevails here at least two thirds
of the year, it is impossible to manoeuvre troops in the open air
with any degree of comfort, not to say safety; hence this structure
was raised and supplied with huge stoves to afford the means of
exercising the troops even in mid-winter.
Moscow has four theatres, two only of which are worthy of the
traveller's notice. These are the Botshoi and the Italian Opera,
where only entertainments of a high order of merit are permitted to
be given. In many of the gay cafes young girls of free manners and
lax morals dance in national costumes, among whom one easily
recognizes those coming from Circassia, Poland, Lithuania, and the
country of the Cossacks. In their dances and grouping they present
scenes that do not lack for picturesqueness of effect. Most of the
melodies one hears at these places are quaint and of local origin,
quite new to the ear; though now and again a familiar strain will
occur, indicating from whence Chopin and others have borrowed. Some
of the performers were so strikingly handsome as to show that their
personal charms had been the fatal cause which had brought them into
so exposed a connection as these public resorts of evil repute. The
Bohemian or gypsy girls were the most attractive,--poor creatures
coming from no one knows where, wanderers from their birth, and with
lives ever enveloped in mystery. One could not but recall the Latin
Quarter of Paris and the gay, dissipated night-resorts of London and
Vienna. None of the European capitals are without these dark spots
upon the escutcheon of civilization.
The author's observation in Cuba and continental Spain had led him to
believe the dishonesty of Spanish officials to be quite unequalled;
but the Russians far exceed the Spaniards in the matter of venality.
The last war between Russia and Turkey brought to light official
fraud and briberies, connected especially with the commissary
department of the army, which disgraced the whole nation in the eyes
of the world. Experiences of so outrageous and startling a character
were related to us, illustrative of these facts, as to almost
challenge belief, had they not been sustained by reliable authority.
So extensive and universal is the system of bribery in Russia, that
the question of right in ordinary matters, even when brought before
the courts for decision, scarcely enters into the consideration. It
is first and last purely a question of roubles. Counterfeit justice
is as plentifully disbursed as counterfeit money, and that does much
abound. To prove that this system of official bribery is no new thing
here, and that it is perfectly well known at headquarters, we have
only to relate a well-authenticated anecdote. A chief officer of
police, who was one day dashing along the Nevsky Prospect in a
handsome drosky drawn by a fine pair of horses, was met by the
Emperor Nicholas. His Majesty by a sign stopped the officer, and
inquired of him what salary he received from the government treasury.
"Two thousand roubles, your Majesty," was the reply. Whereupon the
Tzar asked how he contrived to own and keep such a smart equipage
upon that sum. "By presents, your Majesty, that I receive from the
people of my district," was the frank rejoinder. The Emperor laughed
at so straightforward an answer, adding: "I believe that I live in
your quarter, and have neglected sending you my present," at the same
time handing him his purse. The existence of a system of bribery
among the officials of the various departments was only too well
known to the Tzar; but such plain speaking was a novelty.
A love, not to say pride, of country seems to be universal among the
people at large, in spite of all that may be said or inferred to the
contrary. No matter how poor the land may seem to the stranger, to
the native-born it is beautiful, or at all events it is well
beloved; no disparagement will be permitted for a moment. It was
amusing to observe the local rivalry existing between the citizens of
Moscow and St. Petersburg. The latter are regarded by the former as
parvenus, lacking the odor of sanctity that adheres to the citizens
of "holy Moscow." The more ancient metropolis has ever had a quasi
official recognition as the capital, though it is not so politically.
It will be remembered that in 1724, but a few months before his
death, even Peter the Great celebrated the coronation of his wife
Catherine at Moscow, not at St. Petersburg; and to this day it has
been the crowning place of all his successors. So far as the hearts
of the people are concerned, Moscow is their capital.
We often hear surprise expressed that Russians who visit other
countries are generally such accomplished linguists; but this is very
easily accounted for when we remember that in every noble or wealthy
family of St. Petersburg or Moscow there is a German nurse for the
young children, an English governess for the young ladies, and a
French tutor for them all. Emulating those of more pretension and
wealth, the same custom extends to the class of successful merchants'
families; so that the average Russian grows up speaking two or three
languages besides his native tongue. Life is much less cosmopolitan
here than in St. Petersburg. Few emigrants from the far East stop in
Moscow; they press on to the more European, and commercial city,
where Tartars from Kazan, Adighes from the Caucasus, Swedes and
Norwegians from Scandinavia, Finlanders from the North, and Germans
from the South mingle together. In polite society French is the
language of St. Petersburg, while German is much in use among the
mercantile community; but in Moscow it is the native tongue which
prevails, as well as Oriental manners and customs.
A drive of about three miles from the city over a wretchedly kept
road, where the ruts are positively terrible, brings one to Sparrow
Hill, the point from whence Napoleon first looked upon the devoted
city. "There is the famous city at last, and it is high time," said
Napoleon. He had left the battlefield of Borodino covered with
corpses forty miles behind. But what cared the ravaging warrior for
the eighty thousand lives there sacrificed? It was this terrible
encounter which caused him to say emphatically, "One more such
victory would be utter ruin!" From this elevation the invading host
pressed forward and entered the Muscovite capital, to find the
streets deserted, the public buildings stripped of all valuables,
and the national archives removed. There were no officials with
whom to treat; it was like a city of the dead. This unnatural
solitude gave birth to gloomy forebodings in the hearts of the
invaders,--forebodings which were more than justified by the final
result of that wholly unwarranted campaign. Soon at various points
the conflagration of the city began. If subdued here and there by the
French it broke out elsewhere, and at last became uncontrollable.
Napoleon entered Moscow on the fifteenth of September and left it in
ashes on the nineteenth of October, when there began a retreat which
was undoubtedly one of the greatest tragedies of modern times. Half
a million men in the flower of their youth had in a brief six months
been sacrificed to the mad ambition of one individual.
At Sparrow Hill are many cafes where the native population come to
drink tea, and where foreigners partake of cheap, flat Moscow beer
and other simple refreshments. From here a notable view is to be
enjoyed, embracing the ancient capital in the distance; and it is
this charming picture which most attracts strangers to the spot. The
broad river forms the foreground, flowing through fertile meadows and
highly cultivated fields. When we saw it vegetation was at its prime,
a soft bright green carpeting the banks of the Moskva, while the
plain was wooded with thriving groves up to the convent walls and
outlying buildings of the town. Just back of the tea-houses, crowning
the hill, is an ancient birch forest which was planted by Peter the
Great, the practical old man having occupied many days in
consummating this purpose, during which he worked laboriously among
his people, setting out and arranging the birches. The local guides
never fail to take all travellers who visit the Muscovite city to
Sparrow Hill, where it is quite the thing to drink a tumbler of
steaming hot Russian tea, with the universal slice of lemon floating
thereon. This tasteless decoction has not even the virtue of
strength, but is merely hot water barely colored with an infusion of
leaves. However, as it is quite the thing to do, one swallows the
mixture heroically. A more pleasant drive of about four or five miles
from the centre of the city, over a far better road than that which
leads to Sparrow Hill, will take the stranger to a most delightful
place of resort known as the Petrofski Park, ornamented with noble
old elms in great variety, flower-beds, blooming shrubbery,
fountains, and delightfully smooth roads. The lime, the elm, the
sycamore, and the oak all flourish here, mingled with which were some
tall specimens of the pine and birch. The place is the very
embodiment of sylvan beauty, and has been devoted to its present
purpose for a century and more, having first been laid out in 1775.
Within these grounds is the interesting old Palace of Petrofski, a
Gothic structure which, though seldom inhabited, is kept always
prepared for noble guests by a corps of retainers belonging to the
Government. It is frequently the resort of the Emperor when he comes
to Moscow, and always the place from whence a new emperor proceeds to
the Kremlin to be officially crowned. It was to this palace that
Napoleon fled from his quarters in the city when Moscow was being
destroyed by the flames. The _cafes chantants_ are many, within the
precincts of the Park,--gay resorts of dissipation, whither the
people come ostensibly to drink tea, but really to consume beer,
wine, and corn-brandy, as well as to assist at the oftentimes very
coarse entertainments which are here presented, characterized by the
most reckless sort of can-can dancing and bacchanalian songs. Bands
of music perform in different parts of the extensive grounds, and
gaudily-dressed gypsy girls sing and dance after their peculiar and
fantastic style. One detects fine vocal ability now and then
exhibited by these wayward creatures, which by patient culture might
be developed into great excellence. The singing of these girls is
quite unlike such performances generally,--not particularly
harmonious, but bearing the impress of wild feeling and passionate
emotion. Many of the performers are of a marked and weird style of
beauty, and such are pretty sure to wear jewelry of an intrinsic
value far beyond the reach of honest industry,--which forms a glaring
tell-tale of their immodesty.
The gypsy race of Russia, to whom these itinerants belong, are of the
same Asiatic origin as those met with in southern Europe; no country
has power to change their nature, no association can refine them.
They will not try to live by honest labor; everywhere they are
acknowledged outcasts, and it is their nature to grovel like animals.
The cunning instinct of theft is born in them; adroitness in stealing
they consider to be a commendable accomplishment,--parents teach it
to their children. They are wanderers wherever found, begging at one
country-house and stealing at the next; in summer sleeping on the
grass, in winter digging holes and burrowing in the ground. They are
called in central Russia "Tsiganie," and they group together in
largest numbers in and about the Eastern Steppe, just as those of
Spain do at Grenada and near to the Alhambra. All kindly efforts of
the Russian government to civilize these land-rovers has utterly
failed; not infrequently it becomes necessary to invade their
quarters, and to visit condign punishment upon the tribe by sabre and
bullet, to keep them within reasonable bounds. Quite a colony of
gypsies inhabit a certain portion of Moscow, having adopted the local
dress, and also conformed ostensibly to the conventionalities about
them; but they never in reality amalgamate with other races,--they
are far more clannish than the Jews. Both the men and women ply
trades which will not bear investigation or the light of day. The
former make an open business of horse-trading, and the latter of
public-dancing, singing, and fortune-telling. Belonging to this
community is a small body of singers who practise together, and who
are employed at all public festivals in the city,--which would,
indeed, be considered quite incomplete without them. This choir
consists of six or eight female voices and four male, capable of
affording a very original if not quite harmonious performance.
As regards the Petrofski Park, the truth is it is a famous resort for
reckless pleasure-seekers, and largely made up of the demi-monde,
where scenes anything but decorous are presented to the eyes of
strangers during the afternoons and the long summer twilight. But
those who wish to see and study "life," fast life, have only to visit
the Chateaux des Fleurs, or Marina-Rostcha, which are also in the
environs of the town. As in Vienna, Berlin, and Paris, the police,
who cannot suppress these resorts, strive to control them so far that
they shall not outrage openly the conventionalities of society. Human
nature is much the same all over the world, though its coarsest
features are more obtruded upon observation in some lands than in
others. In extensive travel and experience, the author has learned
that it is not always in semi-barbarous countries that grossness and
indecency will be found most to prevail. It must be admitted that
there are temples of vice in Moscow which for ingenuity of
temptation, and lavish and gilded display, are not equalled elsewhere
in Europe.
Under the shadow of the spacious and lofty tower which forms a
reservoir for the distribution of water for the domestic use of the
citizens, there is held in the open square each Sabbath day what is
called "The Market," but which might better be designated a weekly
fair, a sort of Nijni-Novgorod upon a small scale. Here Jew and
Gentile, Asiatic and European, exchange their goods or sell to the
citizens. There are confectioners, jewellers, clothiers, hard-ware
merchants, dried-fruit venders, fancy-dry-good dealers, tea-booths,
tin and earthenware tables,--in short, every domestic article that
can be named is here offered for sale. The crowd is great, the Babel
of voices deafening, the hustling incessant, occasional quarrels
being inevitable. Now one meets a group of courteous, well-dressed
people, now an itinerant in rags, now a bevy of boisterous girls and
boys, now a long-haired and bearded priest; some are sober, many are
drunk. Alas! Sunday is here a day of drunkenness. Speaking plainly
upon this subject, there are more intoxicated persons to be seen in
the streets of Moscow on the Sabbath than the author has ever
encountered upon any day of the week in any other capital. At this
Sunday-fair articles are offered at popular prices, presumed to be
much lower than is charged by regular merchants who have rent to pay
and large establishments to keep up. Upon this conviction the poorer
classes especially throng hither to purchase such articles as they
require, making the scene one of great activity and general interest.
The tall tower of the water-supply was not originally intended for
the use to which it has at last been appropriated. It was first
erected by the Tzar Peter to mark the northeastern gate of the town,
which was held by one faithful regiment when the rest revolted. This
same regiment escorted him and his mother for safety to the Troitzkoi
Monastery, situated thirty miles from the city, and which is
considered to-day as the holy of holies so far as monasteries are
concerned in Russia. Hither the Empress Catherine II. made the
pilgrimage on foot to fulfil some conditional vow, accompanied by all
her court, only advancing, however, five miles each day, and not
forgetting to have every possible luxury conveyed in her train
wherewith to refresh herself. It will be remembered that Napoleon in
his usual rashness had planned to destroy this monastery, and had
issued orders to that effect, just as he had done in the instance of
St. Basil already referred to; but he was defeated in his purpose by
the haste with which the demoralized army retreated from the country.
The Troitzkoi is not merely a monastery, it is also a semi-fortress,
a palace, and a town containing eight churches, a bazaar, a hospital,
and many stately residences, altogether forming a confused though
picturesque group of towers, spires, belfries, and domes. It is
dominated by a famous bell-tower two hundred and fifty feet high,
containing one of the finest chimes of bells in all Russia,
thirty-five in number. In the Church of the Trinity is the shrine of
Saint Sergius, an elaborate piece of work of solid silver, weighing
nearly a thousand pounds; it is so constructed that the relics of the
saint are exposed. The whole of the monastery grounds are enclosed in
a high wall twenty feet in thickness, with heavy octagon towers
guarding the four principal corners. A deep moat surrounds the wall,
and against the attack of a hostile force in former times it was
thought to be remarkably protected, and is undoubtedly the strongest
fortified monastery in the East. The large prison within the walls
has been the scene of as great cruelty during the last two centuries
as any similar establishment in Europe or Asia. The name Troitzkoi
signifies the Trinity. The treasury of this monastery is famous among
all who are specially interested in such matters for its priceless
robes and jewels, to say nothing in detail of the aggregated value of
its gold and silver plate. It is asserted that there are more and
richer pearls collected here than are contained in all the other
treasuries in Europe combined. Among other precious gems there are
several mitres which contain rubies worth fifty thousand roubles
each, being set with other jewels of appropriate richness. The
Troitzkoi was pillaged by the Tartars about 1403, and was besieged by
the Poles in 1608, at which time the walls were seriously injured;
but all is now restored to its original strength and completeness.
This ancient monastery stands at the opening of the valley of the
Kliasma, a region fruitful with the smouldering ruins of by-gone
cities so much older than Moscow that their names even are forgotten.
The country between the stream just named and the Volga was the grand
centre of early Tartar history. As in the environs of Delhi, India,
where city after city has risen and crumbled into dust, so here large
capitals have mouldered away leaving no recorded story, and only
enforcing the sad moral of mutability.
The idea of comfortable road-beds for the passage of vehicles and
good foot-ways does not seem to have entered the minds of the people
of Moscow. The cobble-stone pavements are universal, both in the
middle of the streets and on that portion designed for pedestrians.
These stones, without any uniformity of size, are miserably laid in
the first place, added to which they are thrown out of level by the
severity of the annual frosts, so that it is a punishment to walk or
to drive upon them. The natives are perhaps accustomed to this
needless discomfort, and do not heed it; but it is a severe tax upon
the endurance of strangers who remember the smooth roadways of Paris,
Boston, and New York. A few short reaches of the square granite-stone
pavements were observed, probably laid down as an experiment; but
great was the relief experienced when the drosky rolled upon them
after a struggle with the cobble-stone style of pavement. Many
otherwise fine streets both here and in St. Petersburg are rendered
nearly impassable by wretched paving.
One is struck by the multitude of pigeons in and about the city. They
are held in great reverence by the common people, and no Russian will
harm them. Indeed, they are as sacred here as monkeys in Benares or
doves in Venice, being considered emblems of the Holy Ghost, and
under protection of the Church. They wheel about in large blue flocks
through the air so dense as to cast shadows, like swift-moving clouds
between the sun and the earth, alighting fearlessly where they
choose, to share the beggar's crumbs or the bounty of the affluent.
It is a notable fact that this domestic bird was also considered
sacred by the old Scandinavians, who believed that for a certain
period after death the soul of the deceased under such form was
accustomed to come to eat and drink with as well as to watch the
behavior of the mourners. Beggary is sadly prevalent in the streets
of the Muscovite capital,--the number of maimed and wretched-looking
human beings forcibly recalling the same class in Spanish and Italian
cities. This condition of poverty was the more remarkable when
contrasted with its absence in St. Petersburg, where a person seen
soliciting alms upon the streets or in tattered garments is very
rare.