It was well that we had written, as we found the house quite full, consisting chiefly of English travellers; everything proved so nice and comfortable that we soon found ourselves more at home than we could have expected.
So far I have proceeded as from a diary, but in future, though I shall confine myself almost entirely to such objects as come under our actual notice, I shall find it necessary in describing many particulars to quote largely from Murray and some other authorities.
The weather, we were told, had been very wet and cold for a much longer period than usual, but had suddenly changed to brighter skies and a delightful atmosphere. The days, of course, are here much longer, but what surprised us most was the brilliant twilight, eclipsing every star and enabling us to read the newspaper at midnight.
Our first business was to communicate by telegraph the important news of our safe arrival; and early the following morning we received the joyful intelligence of all being well at home.
To some of you this may be considered a circumstance hardly worth relating, but let such persons go a considerable distance from home leaving behind them valuable treasures and their views and feelings will undergo considerable change.
On enquiring about Adlerberg, my quarantine associate, we were sorry to learn that he had set off that morning with the Emperor for Archangel, proving himself by that circumstance, as well as from what we heard in all quarters, to be no unimportant personage, second only, they said, to the Emperor himself.
St. Petersburg—so called from its founder in 1703—is situated on a marshy plain so far north as to be locked up one half of the year, and, notwithstanding such unfavourable circumstances, has become one of the handsomest cities in Europe, containing a population of about 600,000. The streets are spacious and well laid out, some of them two or three miles long, and, though not often exceeding three storeys, the houses are very lofty.
It has been called another Venice on account of the numerous canals communicating with the river Neva, which afford a ready transit to all parts of the city and at the same time greatly assist the drainage, which otherwise would prove very imperfect.
The Neva is a beautiful river, about as wide as the Thames in London, but not so polluted. Above the city are numerous islands, on which are erected beautiful villas, mostly constructed of wood in a fanciful style, and painted various colours with gardens very tastefully laid out. Besides numerous delightful drives among these islands they are made further accessible by small steamers. They are also connected by wooden bridges resting on boats which are removed before the winter season sets in, being not then required and also liable to great injury by the breaking up of the ice. But lower down there is one bridge constructed of iron of seven arches and 1,050 feet long and 60 feet wide, costing a million and a quarter sterling.
Besides steamers there are many other boats, some very large rudely constructed, bringing wood from the lake of Ladoga, mostly birch, cut in short lengths for fuel, and others freighted with leather, hemp and various products from the interior. In discharging these boats with fuel the serfs[4] make use of a sort of truck with a framework to hold the billets, and the wheels, being not more than six or seven inches in diameter, require a narrow plank to be laid across the street a little below the uneven pavement. They have also a very defective mode of watering the streets; fetching the water in buckets and putting it into a larger vessel upon wheels from which they sprinkle the streets, instead of pumping up the water into a machine and distributing it as it goes along.