That young girl standing near her is her daughter; she is going to be married, and one of these expensive shawls must always form an item in the dowry of a shopkeeper’s bride. Generally, the most extravagant furs, brocades, jewels, and satins are to be seen worn by the women of this class: they frequently have no bonnet, and wear merely a silk handkerchief tied tightly round the head and fastened in the front with a diamond brooch. That splendid carriage with six horses, three postilions, coachman, and two footmen behind, all richly bedizened with gold lace, and having cocked hats trimmed with white ostrich-feathers, is one sent to fetch another bride of the merchant class: she is probably the destined wife of one of the shopkeepers in this Gostinoi Dwor. I remember once seeing the dowry of one of these people; it was being carried by on the heads of about sixty men one after another. Such quantities of fine things, enough to raise the envy of all the damsels in the city. Certainly there was nothing hidden under a bushel, for every article was frankly displayed to the greatest advantage in midday and in the public streets. Formerly it was the custom to marry the daughters at twelve and thirteen: there are many now alive who were married at that youthful age, but an ukase has since been published forbidding any girl to be espoused before she has attained her seventeenth year. That man with a covered dish is selling hot blinnies (pancakes); he seems to find numerous customers. The one next to him is a Tartar; his shaven head is covered by a light-coloured felt hat, and he wears a long blue caftan, which is their usual costume: he is vending Kazane soap, made of eggs, and very much prized by the ladies. Like all Mahometans he abominates pork. We used to see the village children, as one was passing, hold the two corners of their apron in their fingers, imitating the shape of pigs’ ears, which invariably filled them with unutterable disgust, and which they always showed by spitting several times over the shoulder. The man opposite, standing in front of an eastern-looking shop, is a Persian: notice his high black sheepskin cap of a conical shape, such as those seen on the Nimroud sculptures, and his long open sleeves tied in a knot behind his back: he is speaking to a countryman of his in a language that seems to equal the Italian for its softness. His Asiatic countenance and elegant appearance form a marked contrast to the group of peasants near him, who are standing admiring the shoes and boots of coloured leather embroidered with gold and silver, for which the town of Torjock is celebrated.
Yonder goes the metropolitan of Moscow in his coach and six, exactly similar to the one we saw in St. Petersburg. They say that he would not be long primate here if his Majesty had the power to remove him, for even his authority finds a check in the reverence and respect with which his Eminence is regarded by the Russian people. He is the author of several theological works, and bears besides so exemplary a character for piety and good works, that it is no wonder they look upon him as a saint: indeed there are many so designated in the Greek kalendar who have not merited the title half so well.
Many of those whom we meet have the unmistakeable traits of the Hebrew countenance, yet there are no Jews allowed to reside either in Moscow or St. Petersburg unless they produce the certificate of their baptism. Can it be that the temptation of gain has caused them to call themselves Christians and to forswear the creed of their fathers?
The people of Moscow seem even greater lovers of tea than those of St. Petersburg, for almost every shopman is comforted by a glass of it, which is constantly standing on the counter beside him. On the other side you may remark a small frame with strong wires stretched across it, on which wooden or ivory heads are threaded, by means of which he makes his calculations very rapidly, the Russian money being in decimals. It is most probably an invention introduced by the Chinese, as Mr. Davis speaks of an instrument exactly similar in common use in the Celestial Empire, and very likely the merchants from that country, at the great fair of Nishni Novogorod, might have first taught the Muscovites its utility. It is true that with this instrument they can instantly calculate any sum of whatever amount, but it must be a bad practice after all to do so, as without its aid they can do nothing in arithmetic, and appear quite at a loss in counting the most trifling sums.
That gentleman opposite is making a bargain with our friend the Persian; he wishes to buy some narghilés. See what a number of pipes he has brought out, of all fashions and prices; some of them are beautifully ornamented: he finds a ready sale for them, the Russians being as much addicted to smoking as any Oriental nation, but it is strictly forbidden to do so in the streets; any person seen so occupied would be taken to the police-station. There is a story they used to tell in St. Petersburg; I do not know whether it be a true one, as so many anecdotes are invented about the Emperor. One morning he was walking down the Perspective, and a French gentleman, who was on a visit to the capital, was sauntering along with a cigar, the tip of which was as red as a ruby, and pretty wreaths of smoke were gaily ascending in the frosty air. The Emperor looked at him, and he in return looked at the Emperor. He then, with all the grace for which the grande nation is celebrated, accosted him in elegant French, and turned to enter into a little chat. His Majesty took it all in good part, and they continued their walk until they came near the palace; but on the way he mentioned to the stranger that the strictest orders were given concerning smoking, and asked if he had heard of them. The Frenchman replied that he believed somebody had told him something about it, but he was going to leave Russia in a day or so, and he would not care even if he met Nicholas himself. Just at that moment the guard turned out and saluted his Majesty. “Ah!” said the Frenchman, “and who are you, mon cher?” “I am Nicholas himself,” answered the Emperor. The gallant Français immediately put his cigar in his pocket.
The Kremlin we have just visited contains, among other interesting buildings, the Tiramà and the Treasury. The first mentioned is the ancient palace of the Czars. Among other apartments shown are those formerly occupied as a kind of harem. The Russian women in former times were kept as secluded from the world as are the ladies in eastern countries: they were veiled and jealously guarded, and were not allowed to quit the palace even to go to church: the place on which they were accustomed to stand to hear the mass sung in the adjoining cathedral was pointed out to us. The rooms in the Tiramà are small, with vaulted ceilings, the whole of which, as well as the walls, are completely covered with arabesque paintings exceedingly rich and curious: they were executed by Byzantine artists: the doors are à jour and similarly decorated.
The chair, table, and Bible of the Czar Alexis, father of Peter the Great, are carefully preserved in one of the apartments: the book was securely locked, so we could not see in what language it was written, probably in Sclavonic. The window still exists out of which the so-called false Dmitri leaped when the insurgents had effected an entrance into the palace in order to assassinate him. The story of this unfortunate prince still remains an enigma in history: certainly it was greatly to the advantage of Shuisky, his immediate successor, and of those that followed him, to endeavour to prove that he was an impostor. Outside of the palace is the terrace on which the Czars appeared after their accession to the throne, to show themselves to the people in all the pomp and circumstance of imperial power.
The church adjoining the Tiramà is curious and very ancient: there are a great many paintings and ornaments in the old Byzantine style.
Connected with this antique palace is the new one built by the present Emperor: it is certainly magnificent in the interior, from the immensity and splendour of the suite of state apartments, each of which is designated after one of the orders of knighthood. I do not know which is the most imposing of these grand halls; each one is perfect in itself and of its kind, but the largest is that of St. George.[19] The walls are completely covered with gilt arabesque carving, relieved at intervals by the insignia of the order; enormous chandeliers depend from the ceiling, and the floors are of inlaid oak. Even in the daytime the effect of so much gilding was dazzling, and when the lamps are lighted it must be almost overpowering. So much glitter and overcharged ornament do not accord with our English taste, accustomed as we are to Gothic architecture and buildings of simple grandeur; but the Russians are extremely fond of show and barbaric splendour, so that perhaps they look with equal dégoût on our public edifices.
The treasury contains a great variety of interesting objects. In the jewel-room, placed on pedestals, are sixteen crowns, among which is the imperial diadem of Russia, the crown of unhappy Poland, and those of Siberia and Astrachan. Both of the latter are extremely curious, and resemble a highly-ornamented skull-cap of gold, trimmed round with black fur. Whilst gazing on these, it is impossible to avoid reflecting upon the vicissitudes of nations. I remember when we were staying near the Volga, in the summer-time, we frequently took a walk along the upper bank, whence we could look down on the river and watch the numerous barks heavily laden with corn and other raw produce, being tugged up the stream by gangs of Tartars; they were harnessed together like so many cattle, sometimes as many as forty in a company, with a headman or driver. Now and then they were allowed an hour or so for rest, and, just like so many beasts of burthen, they threw themselves, leashed together as they were, upon the bare ground, and were soon asleep. When the leader thought that they had reposed long enough, he went about from one to another, kicking them up with as little ceremony as if they were merely slumbering dogs. Having received a sufficient number of these gentle admonitions, the men arose, and immediately re-commenced their toilsome journey, singing with sharp piercing voices the barbarous songs they had learned far away amid the plains of Tartary, and with which they awoke the echoes in a land where their forefathers once caused their scarcely less savage war-cry to resound. The very cities through which they were wearily marching bore the monuments of their ancestors’ triumphs, and many a high wall of earth or solid tower pointed out the spot over which they reigned in other times as the conquerors of the land. In gazing on these Tartar slaves, whose faces had no more expression than that of a brute, one could scarcely believe that these were the descendants of a race at whose name not only all Asia but the whole of eastern Europe trembled, who founded empires and dynasties, who overran kingdoms and carried monarchs away captive, and who have left the traces of their conquests from the Yellow Sea to the Neva. Among other objects to be seen at the Treasury are the throne of Poland, her sceptre, and, alas for her! the keys of Warsaw. How sad must be the feelings of a Polish heart at the sight of the spoils of his miserable country! When I was at Warsaw I saw the church at which the unhappy people made their last stand against the overwhelming armies of Russia. When every other part of the city had fallen into the hands of the enemy, the Poles shut themselves up in the church that is to the right as you enter from the St. Petersburg road, determined in their despair at least to sell their lives as dearly as possible, and to perish rather than to become the degraded slaves of the hated Muscovites. They fought until, faint and weary, they could defend the place no longer; they were forced to give way, and the Russians entered. Heaps of the dying and the dead, weeping women who were on their knees praying for the aid of Heaven, infants wildly clasped in the arms of their frantic mothers, wretched girls shrieking with terror or vainly begging for mercy, wounded children and bleeding patriots were presented to the sight of the savage soldiers in their career of glory! The victors did not remain long in the church, and when they quitted it there was not a man, woman, or child left alive within its walls—“thus was Warsaw lost and won!” The lady who was with me spoke in guarded whispers as she recounted the sorrows of her country, and looked round several times in fear lest she should be heard by some passer by, so dangerous is it to speak the truth under Russian rule.