From Pekin to Calais by Land

by Harry De Windt

We passed, just before reaching Nijni Novgorod, a large white paddle-steamer, built on the American principle, bound for Astrakhan, on the Caspian. She was going full seventeen knots an hour, and churning up the muddy water in a way that made the Perm roll uncomfortably till she was far astern of us. We also passed at least fifty barges between Kazan and Nijni, laden with petroleum, from the Baku oil-wells on the Caspian.

The Great Fair[^[19]] was just over at Nijni Novgorod, and we had no difficulty in getting rooms at the Hôtel de la Poste, an excellent inn, which but ten days before had been crammed from basement to attic with tourists from Moscow and Petersburg.

The city stands on a high hill, at the confluence of the Volga and Oka rivers, and in fair time presents a strange and unique spectacle. The fair is held on the left-hand bank of the Oka river, being connected with the town by a long floating bridge, but at this season the river itself is so covered with boats and barges, anchored for the sale of goods, as to look like dry land.

“The scene from the town heights opposite,” says an eye-witness, “is at the time of the fair indescribable.” There, embraced within the compass of a glance, is the great fair of Nijni Novgorod. A huge flat sandy plain, flanked by two great rivers, is covered over with houses of different colours, mostly red and yellow, made of brick, wood, and matting; millions of this world’s richest merchandise, stored or strewn in every direction; churches, mosques, and theatres, rising in their midst, three hundred thousand human beings more or less engaged in buying, selling, trafficking, pushing, jolting, hurrying in every direction; barges warped along the quays of two rivers, still busily engaged in unloading their exhaustless cargoes. The river at your base is the Oka, and running at right angles to it, at the point exactly opposite to where you are, the still mightier Volga mixes its waters with it. On reaching the quays below a low wooden bridge, very much like that which spans the Rhine at Mayence, crosses the Oka at a point about a verst distant from its embouchure. This is the only means of communication, except by water, between the town and the fair. Behold crowds on foot, in carriages, and on horseback; droves of bewildered cattle driven by bearded, wild-looking men in gaudy coloured barbaric dress, carts heavily laden with jars, casks, sacks, boxes, and unwieldy lengths of timber; grave-looking orientals with flowing robes and Astrakhan hats, alone imperturbable in the midst of the thronging crowd; the din, the trampling, the confusion, all vastly aggravated by the mounted Cossacks, who, placed at intervals along the line on their restive little horses to keep order, add greatly to the general confusion. Add to all this that after it has been raining all day——and it often does rain at Nijni Novgorod——the roads are not ankle deep nor knee deep, but hip and thigh deep in slush and mud, and a picture of this strange city during fair time is before you.

“I was struck,” says the same writer, “with the number of ‘Traktirs’ or eating-houses of the poorer sort. It is no light matter to supply the daily wants of two to three hundred thousand people. Formerly this was left to private enterprise, but whilst the caterers grew rich, the people suffered. Not a year passed without an epidemic of some sort breaking out among the throng which attended the fair. This was owing partly to the food, which was notoriously bad, and partly to the air, which in the absence of drainage or any sanitary arrangements was pestilential. The Russian Government grappled boldly with this double evil. To meet the danger of unwholesome food, they established in different parts of the fair cheap eating-houses, where for the sum of eight kopeks (about twopence three farthings) the poorer classes could obtain a substantial meal, consisting of ‘Shtchi’ or cabbage soup, black bread ad libitum, and a favourite porridge called ‘Kasche.’ They can also obtain for three kopeks (about a penny) enough tea to give them half a dozen cups of that national beverage and three pieces of sugar. Since these precautions have been taken, no serious epidemic has broken out at the Nijni ‘Yarmark.’

“Although one can scarcely mention an article great or small, European or Asiatic, that may not be purchased at Nijni Novgorod during the months of August and September, the staple commerce is in tea, sugar, iron, cotton, silk, and furs of all kinds. Most of the tea sold at Nijni is black tea, yellow and white teas are also sold, but in retail, and an enormous quantity of brick tea is also annually imported. This is called ‘Kirpitchni’ and is largely drunk by the Kalmuks and Kirghiz. The duty on Canton tea is heavier than that on Kiakhta or ‘overland’ tea by a considerable amount. Probably if it were not for the popular prejudice that sea-transported tea loses its flavour, the amount of overland tea would be considerably less than it is. With reference to this opinion the following is the current doctrine held by the most experienced Russian merchants on the subject. They hold not exactly that the sea voyage injures the tea, but that the preparation of the tea for the voyage, viz., the extra drying and exposure to the air which it has to undergo in order that it may not be deteriorated by the damp atmosphere, does undoubtedly affect its flavour, so that indirectly it comes to the same thing. “The tea depôt,” says Mr. ————, “is certainly the most picturesque part of the fair; it would be still more so if the Chinaman with his pigtail could be seen. But there are no Chinamen at Nijni; the tea and the Chinamen part company at Maimachin, near Kiakhta, and from that point the trade is entirely in the hands of Russians.”

The fur quarter is perhaps the next most interesting part of the fair, long galleries of booths, where miles of bear skins, wolf skins, fox skins, beaver skins, and even sheep skins hang up on either side of your passage. The more valuable skins and furs are carefully packed away in drawers and not exposed to the vulgar gaze. Among these are the beautiful blue and silver fox and beaver. The silver fox so called because its coat is sprinkled with white silvery hairs, is, next the beaver and sable, the most costly fur that can be bought. A single perfect belly of the silver fox will fetch (at Nijni) as much as one hundred roubles. Among the skins sold for warmth and not show, that of the reindeer is perhaps the most popular. They are brought mostly from the northern districts of Vologda and Archangel, and are of three degrees of merit and value. The “Pijick,” or skin of the animal at one month old, is the best; that of the “Oleni,” above nine months old, is the least valuable.

Two other fairs are held at Nijni Novgorod, but they are small and uninteresting. The one held in the month of January, on the ice, at the mouth of the Oka river, is devoted to the selling and buying of wooden wares, such as toys and boxes. Great numbers come in on this occasion from the neighbouring villages, and it is looked upon by the peasants more as an occasion of feasting and merry-making, than one of business. In 1864 the ice on which the booths and “Traktirs” were constructed, gave way, and a number of men, women, and children, and horses were drowned. The other fair is held on the 6th of July, and is exclusively for the sale of horses.

In May, the Volga frequently overflows its banks to a depth of several feet, and covers the site of the fair, in anticipation of which the lower storeys of the warehouses and buildings are cleared, and to cleanse them before July is one of the first things to be done by the owners. This may account for a good deal of the sickness that exists in a very hot summer or early autumn. The fine for smoking in the streets, during fair time, is twenty-five roubles. This is rigidly enforced, and a second offence means imprisonment without the option. The arrangements for protection against fire are excellent. Not only on land, but on the river also, powerful fire-engines are stationed, and numerous little hand-engines are posted at the most inflammatory quarters. In case of fire, within three minutes of the alarm-bell, a dozen large engines could be on the spot at any part of the fair, and being surrounded by the Volga and Oka rivers, there is no lack of water.

The town of Nijni itself is well built, and its broad, steep streets paved with asphalte in many places. They are lit by gas, and some of the principal thoroughfares by electric light. Altogether, we were well pleased with the city, the first we had yet seen without a single wooden building to mar the beauty of stone buildings, that would not have disgraced London or Paris, and yet forty years ago there were scarcely a dozen stone houses in the place!