Balls in Russia are much the same as in other civilized countries, but it is a disagreeable fact that it is absolutely necessary to burn scent in the rooms. “I will really speak to the police-master’s daughters,” said the lady of a governor after one of these general balls; “and I will advise them to put on clean linen, otherwise I will not invite them to the ball!” There is also another disagreeable custom, that of leaving the lady in the middle of a room after the dance is over, instead of escorting her to a seat.
Imperial Ball.
I went several times to balls given by merchants, generally on the occasion of a daughter’s marriage; they were all in the same style. It seemed to me that the grand object in view with the shopkeepers’ wives and daughters was not to dance, but to show off their finery. They sat in a straight line all round the room, dressed in a most splendid manner, with magnificent diamonds, rubies, and pearls, their hands folded over each other, loaded with valuable rings; just as if they were so many portraits or waxen figures, placed there for exhibition. They scarcely moved, excepting when they partook of some refreshment handed round. A very few of the younger portion danced, but the sole amusement of the remainder seemed to consist in criticising and admiring the costume and jewelry of each other. A room was always on these occasions set aside for the governor’s family. As soon as we entered, the host and hostess stepped forward, and respectfully indicated with many bows and inclinations the apartment prepared for our reception; it was sure to contain several tables completely loaded with refreshments of all kinds, immense cakes, trays of fruit, preserves, bonbons, &c., twenty times as much as it was possible to require. Nothing would ever induce the host and hostess to sit down; they came in occasionally to entreat us to do honour to the feast and to show their hospitable wishes for our sakes; they appeared never so pleased as when they saw us eating; indeed, they seemed to expect us never to leave off for a single instant from the time of our entrance to that of our departure.
The most splendid fêtes at which I was present during my stay in Russia were two given by the Emperor: the first was on the occasion of the Archduchess Olga’s marriage, and the second on the twenty-fifth anniversary of his own accession. The former took place at Peterhoff, the marine palace, not many versts distant from Cronstadt. The banqueting, illuminations, and rejoicings lasted three whole days, and cost, as the Russians said, “des millions de roubles.” The bride was one blaze of diamonds, but she looked anything but happy. All the riches and magnificence of the court and nobility were displayed on the occasion: the variety of national costumes, Georgian, Circassian, and others; the glitter of the innumerable military uniforms, belonging to every regiment and race in the Czar’s dominions; the foreign ministers and visitors—all formed a coup-d’œil of extreme splendour: not the least conspicuous among the throng were the negroes belonging to the court in their rich and picturesque oriental costume.
The court-ladies wear an uniform taken from the national dress; the married ladies of honour wear a train of green velvet embroidered with gold over a white robe, and the maids of honour a train of crimson velvet; the head-dress is in the shape of a crescent, similar to that of the peasants, only much enriched with diamonds and other precious stones; on the shoulder is a bow of blue ribbon, in which are the Empress’s initials in brilliants. A long blonde veil is thrown over the head and descends in folds behind. Notwithstanding the richness of the costume, there is a stiffness about it, and there are not many faces to which it is becoming, as it can be so only to classic features. There were very few handsome or pretty women in the whole assembly; indeed, generally speaking, beauty is rare among the Russians. It is very uncommon in every rank, yet, perhaps, no people value exterior appearance so much as they do, or are so vain of their persons. One proof of the latter failing may be seen at every step, for there is not a single shop in St. Petersburg in which a looking-glass is not placed for the benefit of the customers. Mirrors hold the same position in Russia as clocks do in England; with us time is valuable, with them appearance.
Every night during the festival the gardens of the palace were illuminated; Russians said that there were ten millions of lamps. Perhaps there were two or three millions at the most; but they always multiply every number, like the Orientals, who slay tens of thousands, when probably a few hundreds only are meant. Twenty thousand soldiers were engaged in relighting the wicks as they became extinguished by the wind. Walls of light were on each side of the walks and avenues, pyramids and obelisks from fifty to seventy feet in height, resplendent stars seemingly suspended in mid air were everywhere to be seen, but the most beautiful sight of all were the fountains. The palace is built on an elevation, and the water falls in artificial cascades from this height, forming a pretty stream. Below, in the hollows of the overhanging rocks, rows of lamps were placed, over which the fluid rushed from the cascade like a shower of diamonds, whilst the flashing lights beneath had an indescribably brilliant effect; the fine bronze figures untarnished glittered like statues of gold in the rays of thousands of beaming stars; the long avenues of splendid pines that border each side of the artificial stream below were also illuminated; and the view was terminated by an enormous sun, sixty feet in diameter, that appeared to be hovering over the sea in the distance, invisibly suspended in the air. There were not many coloured lamps, and those were placed among the flowers in the gardens, which had an extremely pleasing effect. The others did not resemble those used in England, but were merely little earthenware saucers, filled with grease, and furnished with a wick; these were placed on a framework of wood, painted black, and made into various designs. Soldiers stood at intervals on it, or were mounted on ladders behind, in readiness to relight the lamps that might accidentally become extinguished. One little fact connected with this magnificent festival deserves to be recorded, if it be only to show that enthusiastic cheers and delighted shouts can be made to order, and according to the regulations of the police, by which everything in fact is conducted in Russia. A general assured us that there was a number of men stationed among the crowd whose duty it was to shout in extasy whenever the signal was given them on the appearance of any person of rank on the balcony whose position demanded notice. This was the key-note for as many as liked to join in the chorus, otherwise they did not dare to make any exclamations of pleasure or satisfaction. Disapprobation was of course entirely out of the question, as the least sign of it would subject the delinquent to disagreeable consequences. There were also a great many spies doing duty among the crowd, who were placed there in order to hear what might be said of the whole affair.
The second festival, that on the anniversary of the Emperor’s coronation, took place in Moscow. A description of it would be merely a repetition of what has just been stated. There was one sight, however, that could be seen nowhere else but in that city, and that was the Kremlin illuminated. Its numerous churches and towers decorated with what appeared from below to be a vast number of brilliant little stars,—the gilded crosses glittering in the dark azure sky,—the high and massive walls covered with one immense design resembling embroidery in light,—the Alexander gardens below, illuminated with thousands of lamps,—the showy costumes of the Circassian guards,—the gay dresses of the people,—the bright uniforms of the military, as they passed in crowds to and fro,—formed altogether a splendid sight, well worth the trouble of a journey from St. Petersburg to Moscow to behold. The illumination was at the expense of the city merchants and shopkeepers, who subscribed an enormous sum for the purpose. Magnificent though it was, yet for the large sum subscribed it ought to have been more so; but as it was necessarily under the direction of the police authorities, they doubtless took a good percentage for their trouble.