St. Isaac's Cathedral was begun in 1819 and completed in 1858, being undoubtedly the finest structure of its class in Northern Europe. So far as its architecture is concerned, its audacious simplicity amounts to originality. It stands upon the great square known as Isaac's Place, where a Christian church formerly stood as early as the time of Peter. Its name is derived from a saint of the Greek liturgy,—St. Isaac the Delmatian,—and is altogether distinct from the patriarch of that name in the Old Testament. As the Milan Cathedral represents a whole quarry of marble, this church may be said to be a mountain of granite and bronze. Nor is it surprising that it occupied forty years in the process of building; its completion was only a question of necessary time, never one of pecuniary means. Whatever is undertaken in this country is carried to its end, regardless of the cost. The golden cross on the dome is three hundred and thirty-six feet from the ground, the form of the structure being that of a Greek cross with four equal sides, surmounted by a central dome, which is covered with copper overlaid with gold. Two hundred pounds of the precious metal, we were told, were required to complete the operation. The dome is supported by a tiara of polished granite pillars. Each of the four grand entrances, which have superb peristyles, is reached by a broad flight of granite steps. The four porches are supported by magnificent granite columns sixty feet in height, with Corinthian capitals in bronze, these monoliths each measuring seven feet in diameter. The entire architectural effect, as already intimated, is one of grandeur and simplicity combined; but the impressive aspect of the interior, when the lamps and tapers are all lighted, is something so solemn as to be quite beyond description,—illumination being a marked feature in the Greek, as in the Roman Catholic Church. No interment, baptism, or betrothal takes place in Russia without these tiny flames indicative of the presence of the Holy Spirit; and thus it is that the humblest cabin of the peasant or city laborer supports one ever-burning lamp before some hallowed and saintly picture. Instrumental music is not permitted in the Greek Church, but the human voice forms generally the most effective portion of the service; and of course the choir of St. Isaac's is remarkable for its excellence. Some idea of the cost of this cathedral may be found in the fact that to establish a suitable foundation alone cost over a million roubles; and yet at this writing a hundred skilled workmen are endeavoring to secure the heavy walls so as to stop the gradual sinking which is taking place at three of the corners! It is feared that these walls before many years will have to come down all together, and a fresh and more secure foundation created by the driving of another forest of piles. It is to be hoped that St. Isaac's may be indefinitely preserved in all its purity of design and splendor of material; and with its foundation established this may reasonably be expected. Architecture has been called the printing press of all time, from the period of the Druids to our own day. Future generations will perhaps read in this noble edifice a volume of history relating to the state of society, the degree of culture existing, and the iron despotism which entered into its construction.
Russia has always been famous for its church bells. That of St. Isaac's, the principal one of the city, weighs over fifty-three thousand pounds and gives forth sounds the most sonorous we have ever chanced to hear. These great Russian bells are not rung by swinging; a rope is attached to the clapper, or tongue, and the operator rings the bell by this means. Our hotel was on Isaac's Place, and our sleeping apartment nearly under the shadow of the lofty dome of the church. It seemed as though the bell was never permitted to rest,—it was tolling and ringing so incessantly, being especially addicted to breaking forth at the unseemly hours of four, five, and six o'clock A. M. Of course sleep to one not accustomed to it was out of the question, while fifty-three thousand pounds of bell-metal were being so hammered upon. It was not content to give voice sufficient for a signal to the specially devout, but its outbursts assumed chronic form, and having got started it kept it up for the half-hour together, causing the atmosphere to vibrate and the window sashes to tremble with thrills of discomfort. Sometimes it would partially subside in its angry clamor, and one hoped it was about to become quiet, when it would suddenly burst forth again with renewed vigor, and with, as we fancied, a touch of maliciousness added. Then,—then we did not ask that blessings might be showered upon that bell, but—well, we got up, dressed, and took a soothing walk along the banks of the swiftly flowing river!
On the right of Isaac's Place as one looks towards the Neva is the spacious Admiralty, reaching a quarter of a mile to the square of the Winter Palace. On the left is the grand and effective structure of the Senate House. Immediately in front of the cathedral, between it and the river, surrounded by a beautiful garden, stands the famous equestrian statue of Peter the Great in bronze. The horse is seventeen feet high, and the rider is eleven. Horse and rider rest upon a single block of granite weighing fifteen hundred tons, which was brought here from Finland at great cost and infinite labor. The effect of this group struck us as being rather incongruous and far from artistic; but it is only fair to add that many able judges pronounce it to be among the grandest examples of modern sculpture. Falconet, the French artist, executed the work at the command of Catherine II. On the opposite side of the cathedral is the more modern equestrian statue and group reared in memory of the Emperor Nicholas, one of the most elaborate, costly, and artistic compositions in bronze extant. At each corner of the profusely-embossed pedestal stands a figure of life size, moulded after busts of the Empress and her three daughters. We had not chanced to know of this work of art before we came full upon it on the morning following our arrival in the city; but certainly it is the most remarkable and the most superb monument in St. Petersburg. Well was the man it commemorates called the Iron Emperor, both on account of his great strength of body and of will. His was a despotism which permitted no vent for public opinion, and which for thirty years kept an entire nation bound and controlled by his single will. It was the misfortunes which befell Russia through the Crimean war that finally broke his proud self-reliance. He died, it is said, of a broken heart on the 2d of March, 1855.
Before leaving the subject of St. Isaac's Cathedral, let us refer to its interior, which is very beautiful, and to us seemed in far better taste than the gaudy though costly embellishments of the Spanish and Italian churches. The Greek religion banishes all statues, while it admits of paintings in the churches, as also any amount of chasing, carving, and gilding. The various columns of malachite and lapis-lazuli, together with the abundant mosaic and bronze work, are characterized by exquisite finish. The many life-size portraits of the disciples and saints in the former material present an infinite artistic detail. The small circular temple which forms the inmost shrine was the costly gift of Prince Demidof, who is the owner of the malachite mines of Siberia. The steps are of porphyry, the floor of variegated marble, the dome of malachite, and the walls of lapis-lazuli,—the whole being magnificently gilded. The intrinsic value of this unequalled shrine is estimated at a million dollars. Many others of the superb decorations of the interior are the gifts of wealthy citizens of St. Petersburg. The numerous battle-trophies which enter into the decoration of the interior of this cathedral seemed to us a little incongruous, though quite common in this country, and indeed in other parts of Europe. The banners of England, France, Turkey, and Germany are mingled together, telling the story of Russia's struggles upon the battlefield and of her victories. The keys of captured fortresses are also seen hanging in clusters upon the walls, flanked here and there by a silver lamp burning dimly before some pictured saint. The cost of constructing and furnishing St. Isaac's was over fifteen million dollars.
All art decorations and objects of virtu which one finds in Russia seem to partake of other and various nationalities, a fact which is perhaps easily accounted for. The Empire is located between the East and the West, and has derived her tastes and art productions from both, as the influence of Asia and Europe are mingled everywhere. Assyria, China, India, Greece, Byzantium, France, and England, all contribute both artists and materials to adorn the Russian palaces, churches, and public buildings. The more practical Americans first built her railroads and first established her now famous machine-shops. Of originality there is very little; all is borrowed, as it were. There is no such thing as Russian art pure and simple; and yet over the broad territory which forms the dominion of the Tzar, we know there have been in the past centuries large, self-dependent communities, who must have been more or less skilled in the various arts, but of whom we know only what may be gathered from half-obliterated ruins of temples and of tombs. The obscurity which envelops the early periods of Russian history is well known to be more impenetrable than that of nearly any other civilized region of the globe. If there can be said to be a Russian style of architecture, it is a conglomerate, in which the Byzantine predominates, brought hither from Constantinople with Christianity.
St. Petersburg is not without its triumphal arches. Two very noble and elaborate structures of this character connect the city with its most important territories,—the one on the road to Narva, the other on that leading to Moscow. The first named is specially noticeable, and was built to commemorate the victorious return of the Russian troops in 1815. The arch is supported by lofty metal columns, and surmounted by a triumphal car drawn by six bronze horses, which have never made a journey abroad like those in the piazza of St. Mark. In the car is a colossal figure of Victory crowned with a laurel wreath and holding emblems of war.
CHAPTER XIII.
The Winter Palace.—The Hermitage and its Riches.—An Empress and her Fancies.—A Royal Retreat.—Russian Culture.—Public Library.—The Summer Garden.—Temperature of the City.—Choosing of the Brides.—Peter's Cottage.—Champ de Mars.—Academy of Fine Arts.—School of Mines.—Precious Stones.—The Imperial Home at Peterhoff.—Curious and Interesting Buildings.—Catherine's Oak.—Alexander III. at Parade.—Description of the Royal Family.—Horse-Racing.—The Empress's Companions.