Near the Summer Garden is the little log building which was occupied by Peter the Great while he superintended personally the work he inaugurated here, and more especially the important part of laying the foundations of the great city, so far back as 1703,—to use the words attributed to him, while he was creating "a window by which the Russians might look into civilized Europe." It is a rude affair built of logs, the ceiling absolutely too low for a tall visitor to stand under comfortably. The inside is lined with leather, and the structure is preserved by a substantial brick house erected over and about it, within which a few of the simple utensils that belonged to the energetic autocrat are also to be seen. Among these articles was a well made and still serviceable small-boat constructed by his own hands, and in which he was accustomed to row himself about the Neva. It will be remembered that Peter served an apprenticeship to this trade in his youth. The apartment which was originally the workshop of the royal carpenter has been transformed into a chapel, where the common people crowd to witness the daily service of the Greek Church. Some of these were seen to kiss the venerated walls,—an act of devotion which it was difficult clearly to understand. True, the Russians, like the Japanese and early Scandinavians, make saints of their heroes; but we believe they forgot to canonize Peter the Great.
Close at hand is situated the spacious Champ de Mars, where the troops of the garrison of all arms are exercised,—a never-ending occupation here, one taking precedence of all others in a nation so thoroughly military. The Russians make the best of soldiers,—obedient, enduring, faithful, and brave. It is true that there are but few "thinking bayonets" in the ranks; yet for the duty they are trained to perform, perhaps such qualification is neither required nor particularly desirable. Stories are often told of the hardship and rigid severity of the Russian military service, but many of them are gross exaggerations. The knout, of which such cruel stories are told, has long been banished as a punishment in the army and navy. The Champ de Mars is a square and perfectly level field where twenty thousand troops—cavalry, artillery, and infantry—can be manøuvred at a time. On the border of this parade-ground stands a fine bronze statue in memory of Marshal Souvarof, the ablest Russian general of his day, and who died so late as the year 1800. The figure, heroic in size, is represented wielding a sword in the right hand and bearing a shield in the left.
On the Vassili Ostrof stands the spacious Academy of Arts, the front on the Neva measuring over four hundred feet in length; and though it is adorned with many columns and pilasters, its architectural effect is not pleasing to the eye. Its size, however, makes it rather imposing as a whole. The central portico is surmounted by a graceful cupola, upon which a figure of Minerva is seated; beneath are seen statues of Flora and Hercules. Two large and quite remarkable granite sphinxes brought from Egypt stand in front of the Academy upon the stone embankment of the river; but the broad business thoroughfare between them and the building isolates these figures so that one would hardly think they were in any way connected with the institution. This Academy of Fine Arts is just one century old, having been erected in 1786 after a design by a French architect. The lower floor forms a series of halls devoted to sculpture, the examples of which are arranged chronologically in various rooms beginning with the early Greek and Roman schools and terminating with the productions of the nineteenth century. In apartments over these are the galleries devoted to paintings. One very interesting and instructive division is that which is devoted to drawings illustrating the progress of architecture. This gallery also affords an admirable opportunity for studying the growth of what is termed the Russian school of painting.
At the western extremity of the Vassili Ostrof is located the Institution of Mines, or the Mining School, which is a resort of special interest to strangers, being in fact a technological college conducted by the Government upon the most liberal principles, and designed to fit its students for becoming accomplished mining engineers. It contains the finest collection of models and mineralogical specimens we have ever seen collected together, not excepting those of the British Museum. This institution will accommodate about three hundred pupils, and is always improved to its fullest educational capacity. The specimens of native gold alone which are here exhibited have an intrinsic value of nearly a hundred thousand dollars, while the beryls, tourmalines, amethysts, topazes, and other minerals from Siberia are unequalled in any other collection. The interested visitor cannot fail to receive a correct impression of the great mineral wealth of this wide-spread empire, and which will be found to exceed all previously conceived ideas. A very beautiful rose-colored rubellite from the Urals was observed, also a green beryl valued at twenty-five thousand dollars. Specimens of the Alexandrite, named after Alexander I., are also to be seen here in beautiful form and clearness. A printed list of the gems and treasures generally which are gathered here would prove of great interest. In the garden of the institution there is a model of a mine, through the winding passages of which a guide bearing a lighted taper conducts the visitor, while he explains the Russian process of mining in Siberia and the Urals.
The Palace of Peterhoff is situated about sixteen miles from the city of St. Petersburg, on the shore of the Neva where the river assumes a width of eight or ten miles. It has always been famous for the magnificent fêtes given here since the days when it was built by the Great Peter. The main structure has no special merit in point of architecture, but the location and the surroundings are extremely beautiful. From the terrace, the great yellow Palace being built upon a natural elevation some sixty feet above the level of the sea, one gets a fine though a distant view of the coast of Finland,—a portion of the Tzar's dominion which alone exceeds in size Great Britain and Ireland, a widespread barren land of lakes and granite rocks, but peopled by over two millions of souls. The parks, gardens, fountains, hothouses, groves, flower-beds, and embowered paths of Peterhoff are kept in the most perfect order by a small army of household attendants. The whole forms a resort of regal loveliness and of endless sylvan variety. The artificial water-works, cascades, and fountains are arranged somewhat like those of St. Cloud, and nearly equal to those of Versailles. In front of the Palace is a fountain named Samson, which throws water to the height of eighty feet, and is also constructed to form various fountains. It is called Samson from the colossal bronze figure forcing open the jaws of a lion, and from whence the water rushes copiously. The fountains are so arranged that on the occasion of holidays and grand fêtes artificial lights can be placed behind the liquid sheets, thus producing novel effects even more wonderful than the golden waters of Parizade. Here the famous Peter used to resort, and stroll about the gardens with his humble favorite, a Polish girl, forgetting the cares of State. This lowly companion besides great personal beauty possessed much force of character, and exercised great influence over her melancholic and morose master. Many instances are related of her interference in behalf of mercy long before her final elevation, which showed a kind and loving nature.
There are several other royal residences in these spacious grounds. One near the sea-shore is that of Montplaisir, a long, low, one-story brick structure with tiled floors and numbers of Dutch pottery stoves. It is an exceedingly plain residence but still very comfortable, containing many Dutch pictures which the Tzar brought from that country. Peter was very much attached to this comparatively humble dwelling, and he breathed his last in it. While standing in the little chamber where he slept and where he died, his last words were recalled: "I believe, and I trust." Here the Empress Elizabeth occasionally spent the brief summer days, amusing herself, as we were told, by cooking her own dinner. The low building is shaded by tall sky-reaching old pines, whose odor pleasantly permeated the air as we wandered about the grounds among the choice flowers and the carefully tended undergrowth, half expecting to come upon the Talking Bird and Singing Tree of the Arabian fable. One or two cypress avenues in the palace grounds are matchless in sylvan effect, producing those charming lines of perspective which trees alone can afford. Here the local guide pointed out an oak which Catherine II. discovered springing from an acorn, and which she protected and planted where it now stands. This little incident occurred on the day before she ascended the throne; but her reign was long enough for the royal lady to see the tiny sprout grow into a lofty and vigorous tree.
There is another small palace near by Montplaisir which was built after the English style for the wife of the Emperor Nicholas, being called Znamenska, and it is occupied at times by the present Empress. The pictures in this summer resort are all of cabinet size and numerous, but not of a very delicate or refined character; how high-bred ladies could abide to have them constantly in sight was a surprise to the author. The furniture is rococo, and almost too delicate for domestic use. Two other small palaces at Peterhoff are upon the islands Isola Bella and Isola Madre. These last are in the Italian style, and as we saw them that soft, sunny July afternoon they were embedded in gorgeous colors, "a snow of blossoms and a wild of flowers." These may be enjoyed by strangers who understand that a golden key opens all doors in Russia. The domestic arrangements in these minor palaces are unique; the bathing apparatus in Montplaisir is very curious, where the royal personages come even to-day to enjoy steam baths, cold baths, and baths of every conceivable nature, often submitting to a discipline which one would think might try the physical powers of an athlete.
One building which we visited within the royal grounds was a very homely square structure of wood, with a brick basement. The house was surrounded by a deep broad moat which could be flooded at will; the little foot-bridge being then raised, the spot was completely isolated. In this building there were but two large rooms, one above the other, the whole being from a design by Catherine II., and was called by her the Peterhoff Hermitage. Hither the fanciful Empress would retire to dine with her ministers of State or the foreign ambassadors. The table was so arranged that the servants had no occasion to enter the apartment where the meal was partaken of. In front of each person sitting at table there was a circular opening, through which at a signal the dishes could descend upon a small dumb-waiter to the carving and cooking room below, and fresh ones be raised in their places. Thus any number of courses could be furnished and no servants be seen at all; nor was there any danger that State secrets could be overheard or betrayed by the attendants. The whole machinery of this automatic table is still operative, and was put in motion for our amusement,—dishes appearing and disappearing as if by magic at the will of the exhibitor.
The author's visit to Peterhoff occurred on a warm, bright Sabbath day. Passage was taken at the English Quay on a steamer which plies regularly between the two places. The decks were thronged with well-dressed, well-behaved citizens, many of whom had wife and children with them, to share the pleasure of a river excursion. Our course was straight down the channel of the Neva; but long before the landing was made, the gilded spires of the royal chapel and some other surrounding golden minarets were discovered blazing under the intense rays of the sun. At present, this beautiful retreat forms the summer residence of the royal family. Lying half a mile off the shore, above and below the landing at Peterhoff, was a light-draft naval steamer, fully manned and armed, acting as a coast-guard. No strange vessel or craft of even the smallest dimensions would be permitted to pass within the line of these vessels. After driving through the widespread royal gardens, dotted with flower-beds, fountains, and mirror-like lakes shaded by a great variety of grand old trees, we finally came upon the Champ de Mars,—and at an opportune moment, just as the Emperor and Empress, with the Prince Imperial and his brother next of age, came upon the ground in an open barouche, to witness a review of the troops which are stationed here. The Emperor, dressed in full uniform, alighted at once, and with military promptness, began to issue his orders. As he moved here and there, his tall commanding figure was quite conspicuous among his attending suite. The Empress, who it will be remembered is the daughter of the King of Denmark and sister of the Princess of Wales, retained her seat in the vehicle, looking very quiet and composed; but the young princes, dressed in white linen coats and caps of a semi-military character, kept a little in the rear, though close to the Emperor, as he walked back and forth directing the movements of the troops. The Empress is tall and stately in figure, her fair and really handsome features bearing no traces of age or care. If she has secret pangs to endure,—common to both the humble and the exalted,—her features record, like the dial-plate in the piazza of St. Mark, only the sunny hours. Her dark eyes lighted up with animation, and a pleased smile hovered about her lips, while the whole corps d'armée, as with one voice, greeted the Emperor when he alighted, and gave the military salute.
The level parade-field was between thirty and forty acres in extent, and the manøuvres evinced the perfection of military drill. The Queen of Greece and the Duchess of Edinburgh, with some attendant ladies of the court, were also present in a carriage behind that occupied by the Empress. The whole party, while it was of so distinguished a character, was yet marked by great simplicity of dress and quietness of manners. Nochili, brother of the late Emperor and uncle to the present Tzar, was in the royal suite, wearing the full uniform of an Admiral of the Russian navy, of which he is the present efficient head. The Prince Imperial is a quiet, dignified lad of seventeen, with features hardly yet sufficiently matured to express much character. He bids fair to be like his parents, tall and commanding in figure; a pleasant smile lighted up his face as he watched with evident interest every detail of the parade. His brother who accompanied him is about three years his junior, but was, we thought, the more dignified of the two. When the whole body of infantry passed the reviewing point at the double-quick, the admirable precision of the movement elicited from the multitude of civilians unlimited applause. In the several stages of the review which the Emperor directed personally, he passed freely close by the lines of the assembled citizens who were drawn hither from St. Petersburg and elsewhere; also in and among the lines of soldiery. He was calm, cool, and collected, the expression upon his features being that of firmness, dignity, and assured power. The stories bruited about concerning his hermit-like seclusion, caused by a realizing sense of personal danger, are mostly exaggerations of the grossest character. They are manufactured and set afloat by the cowardly revolutionists, who strive in many subtle ways to create a false sentiment against the Emperor. Here in St. Petersburg such stories are known to be lies, but it is hoped that among the hidden nests of anarchists in other parts of Europe, and even in America, they may have their effect. That Alexander III. is popular with the masses of Russia, both civil and military, there is no doubt. Of course the avowed enmity of secret revolutionists renders it necessary to take the usual precautions against outrage; consequently guards and detectives are at all times on duty in large numbers, not only at Peterhoff, but wherever the Emperor and royal family may happen to be on public occasions. These detectives are composed of picked men devoted to their duty, chosen for their known loyalty, courage, and discretion, not one of whom but would lay down his life if called upon so to do in order to protect that of the Emperor. The necessity for employing such defensive agents is to be deplored; but it is not confined to the court of Russia. Germany and Austria adopt similar precautions; and even Victoria, amid all the boasted loyalty of her subjects, is exercised by a timidity which leads to similar precautions whenever she appears in public.