“Well, sir,” said the old man, “if you have anything to tell us about where you have been and what you have seen we shall be glad to hear you.”
“Have you ever been in Russia?” shouted a voice, that of the large rough fellow who asked me the question about the Russian war.
“O yes, I have been in Russia,” said I.
“Well, what kind of a country is it?”
“Very different from this,” said I, “which is a little country up in a corner, full of hills and mountains; that is an immense country, extending from the Baltic Sea to the confines of China, almost as flat as a pancake, there not being a hill to be seen for nearly two thousand miles.”
“A very poor country, isn’t it, always covered with ice and snow?”
“O no; it is one of the richest countries in the world, producing all kinds of grain, with noble rivers intersecting it, and in some parts covered with stately forests. In the winter, which is rather long, there is a good deal of ice and snow, it is true, but in the summer the weather is warmer than here.”
“And are there any towns and cities in Russia, sir, as there are in Britain?” said the old man, who had resigned his seat in the chimney-corner to me; “I suppose not, or, if there be, nothing equal to Hereford or Bristol, in both of which I have been.”
“O yes,” said I, “there are plenty of towns and cities. The two principal ones are Moscow and Saint Petersburg, both of which are capitals. Moscow is a fine old city, far up the country, and was the original seat of empire. In it there is a wonderful building called the Kremlin, situated on a hill. It is partly palace, partly temple, and partly fortress. In one of its halls are I don’t know how many crowns, taken from various kings, whom the Russians have conquered. But the most remarkable thing in the Kremlin is a huge bell in a cellar or cave, close by one of the churches; it is twelve feet high, and the sound it gives when struck with an iron bar, for there are no clappers to Russian bells, is so loud that the common Russians say it can be heard over the empire. The other city, Saint Petersburg, where the court generally reside, is a modern and very fine city; so fine indeed, that I have no hesitation in saying that neither Bristol nor Hereford is worthy to be named in the same day with it. Many of the streets are miles in length and straight as an arrow. The Nefsky Prospect, as it is called, a street which runs from the grand square, where stands the Emperor’s palace, to the monastery of Saint Alexander Nefsky, is nearly three miles in length and is full of noble shops and houses. The Neva, a river twice as broad and twice as deep as the Thames, and whose waters are clear as crystal, runs through the town, having on each side of it a superb quay, fenced with granite, which affords one of the most delightful walks imaginable. If I had my choice of all the cities of the world to live in, I would chose Saint Petersburg.”
“And did you ever see the Emperor?” said the rough fellow, whom I have more than once mentioned, “did you ever see the Emperor Nicholas?”