From Pekin to Calais by Land

by Harry De Windt

We found on inquiry that the roads, so far as robbers were concerned, were in a highly dangerous state. Nor was this the only difficulty with which we had to contend. Heavy rains had flooded the country and made it almost impassable between Nijni Udinsk, and Kansk, a couple of hundred versts from Irkoutsk. Of this we had practical proof, for the last mail from Petersburg had been delayed five days. We hoped, all being well, to make Moscow by the 1st of October; but in no country, as far as travel is concerned, is the old proverb so clearly demonstrated of “Homme propose, et Dieu dispose,” as in Siberia. If by any chance we were detained in Eastern Siberia till after the 1st of October, we should have to wait at Tomsk for the snow to set, and sleigh on to Nijni Novgorod, not a pleasant prospect. We had seen quite enough of a Siberian city to know that a residence therein of a week or ten days is more than enough. Irkoutsk, the R.’s said, was far pleasanter in every way than Tomsk, a circumstance that made us all the more dread an enforced residence of two, or perhaps three, months in the latter city, in the worst season of the year——autumn.

We were luckily well armed, and took pains to show it to the servants of the hotel, for in nine cases out of ten the latter and the yemstchiks (or drivers) are in league with the thieves, who rarely attack in the day-time, which was a comfort. Still the prospect of a journey of over a thousand miles through a country infested with bandits and vagabonds did not sound cheering, especially as, in the case of the murdered family, the robbers were armed with revolvers. On the latter occasion, when a man, his wife, and two children had been killed, the yemstchik alone had escaped, which fact, significant as it seemed, did not induce the authorities to detain or even examine him. The murders had taken place at Tiretskaya, a lonely village about sixty versts from Irkoutsk. We were furnished before starting with a small printed guide at the Irkoutsk station, whereon were marked, by black stars, the stages most infested by foot-pads. Beyond Nijni Udinsk, or about a hundred and twenty versts from Irkoutsk, the roads were practically safe.

We now had but two things to purchase, literature and furs. We commenced by ransacking the book-shops, but, alas! found nothing but the works of Jules Verne, with an occasional book of Zola’s. English books there were absolutely none, but of German works, ancient and modern, there was no lack. The latter, however, were no use to us, and we were forced to be content with a copy of Jules Verne’s “Voyage dans la Lune,” “Michel Strogoff,” by the same author, and Zola’s “Assommoir.” I verily believe I could say any of the three off by heart, for we got no other books till we reached Nijni Novgorod. I do not know what I should have done without Reiff’s Russian Grammar and Dictionary, with the help of which I managed to scrape up a little Russian, which on more than one occasion stood me in good stead. Contrary to general belief, a superficial knowledge of this language is very soon learnt. In less than a month I was able to converse fairly well, and ask for what I wanted, though I cannot vouch for my grammar.

Furs were the next consideration, and I was surprised to find how dear they were; but the fact that all, even the commonest, have to be sent to Moscow to be cured and made up, explained this. A pelisse of the cheapest kind, reindeer skin outside and sea-bear in, cost me nearly 22l., and then R———— told me that I had not paid too dear. The same skins unmade would have cost about 12l. My friend the Polish barman attempted to dissuade me from buying one at all, saying we should find fur clothes useless, the weather would be so hot, but I was very glad of my “dacha” and seal cap on more than one occasion before we got to Tomsk. The most costly fur procurable in Siberia is the silver fox, or rather the paws of that animal. No comme-il-faut person ever thinks of wearing any other part, for the whole skin is only worth one-tenth part of one of the tiny, velvety paws. The next in value is the beaver, then the sable, the marten, and astrakan, the last being bear, elk, and reindeer, which latter are, however, only worn by the lower orders.

A great Russian speculator, M. Siberakoff, arrived at the Moskovskaya the evening before we left. I heard with regret that he had left early next morning for Nicolaiefsk, for I was most anxious to see the individual who may be called the Rothschild and Lesseps of Siberia. No enterprise of any magnitude is ever attempted without first consulting and, if possible, obtaining M. Siberakoff’s name on the board of directors, and his last venture may indeed be called a leviathan one——establishing a waterway between Petersburg and Irkoutsk. How many million roubles this will cost I should be afraid to say, but it is a private speculation, and undertaken solely at M. Siberakoff’s cost. The idea was first started by the difficulty and annoyance created by constantly changing goods, tea, silk, &c, from boats on to caravan carts on the Great Post-Road. A waterway, thought Siberakoff, would obviate all this. There was but one way of doing it: to join the Obi river with the Gulf of Archangel, one great drawback to this being that Burroughes Straits, in the Frozen Ocean, through which vessels would have to pass, is hardly ever free from ice. To obviate this difficulty, Siberakoff cut a canal from the River Petchora to Obdorsk, on the Obi river. The magnitude of the undertaking may be estimated when I say that this had to be cut through the Oural Mountains. From Obdorsk Siberakoff’s boats will descend the Obi river as far as Piatko, where they will enter the Chulim river, a small tributary of the Obi. From here another canal has been cut into the Yenisei river. From this point they will go north again till the junction of the Angara and Yenisei is reached, and thence they will descend the former stream to Irkoutsk. The work is now nearly completed, and we saw at Tiumen two of the small steamers destined for the towing of barges. There will thus be (in summer) an unbroken waterway between the Baltic and Lake Baikal.

It is certainly hard on the promoter of this scheme, that since all this has been carried out, surveys for a railway between Tomsk and Irkoutsk have been made by the Russian Government, indeed the work has already been commenced, and will be completed, it is confidently expected, by the end of 1889. It will then be possible to go from Petersburg to Pekin overland in under two months, though the Great Gobi Desert must always remain a stumbling-block to entirely connecting the capitals of Russia and China by railway. This part of the journey will always have to be made, as at present, with camels or horses, for the very good reason that two most important things——fuel and water——are lacking throughout Mongolia. The canal, however, will probably be carried on as far as Khabarofka, and the voyage thence to Pekin be made by aid of steamers now running on the River Amoor as far as Nicolaiefsk, and thence by ocean steamer to Tientsin. The question of a railway from Irkoutsk to Tomsk has often been mooted within the past ten years, but never till the present time with any practical result. Six years since, an American firm offered to build one the whole distance, from Wladivostok, on the Sea of Japan, to Tomsk, in Central Siberia. Their conditions were a lease of 99 years, and a free grant from Government of fifty versts on each side of the rail the whole distance. As the line would have passed through districts teeming with gold and platinum, the offer was declined. The line will now be a purely Government affair, is being constructed almost entirely by soldiers, and engineered by the same officials who lately superintended the construction of the Trans-Caspian Railway.

At length, on the 23rd of August, our final preparations were completed, and we now only needed the permission of the Inspector of police to embark upon our journey. In this we were singularly lucky, receiving it two days after application, though not before a police agent had called and thoroughly searched our boxes and effects. “You are taking no letters, I trust,” said the official suspiciously. “I presume you know the penalty of being found in the Czar’s dominions with compromising papers, no matter what your nationality.” I assured him that no being existed more loyal than myself to his Imperial master, mentally thanking Providence at the same time that I had not acceded to the prayer of my dirty friend with the letter for Greek Street, Soho.

Our good friends the R————s insisted on entertaining us to a dinner in honour of our departure the night before we left, a banquet in which the chef of the “Moskovskaya” excelled himself, and to which we did ample justice. Poor little Madame R———— alone cast a gloom over the entertainment by her sad face, and indeed considering she was doomed to two years’ exile in Irkoutsk, it was not to be wondered at. After dinner we adjourned to the opera, where the poor little woman forgot her troubles in the pretty, sparkling music of “La Grande Duchesse” and the antics of a wonderfully well acted Fritz. It was difficult to imagine oneself in this far-away corner of the earth. The large, brightly-lit theatre, gold and crimson boxes, and stalls, crowded with well-dressed men and women, were different, indeed, from one’s preconceived notions of the capital of Eastern Siberia, as gleaned from “Called Back,” and works of a similar nature. R———— insisted on our supping after the play, and it was daylight ere we sought our couch, the last soft bed we were destined to enjoy for many days to come.

We found a telegram that evening on our return to the hotel, announcing the murder of Stanley, the African explorer, and the whole of the expedition under his command. The report seemed to cause as much excitement in Irkoutsk as if war had broken out between England and Russia, though what possible interest the Eastern Siberian could have in Central Africa puzzled me. The telegram coming from Petersburg (and not from England), I strongly doubted the news being correct, though it caused me some uneasiness, a great friend forming part of the expedition.[^[11]]

Considering the remote position of Irkoutsk and difficulty of obtaining European stores, &c., we were agreeably surprised at the moderate charges made by our host of the “Moskovskaya.” Our bill, including everything, was only 11l. a head, and we by no means stinted ourselves.