Fred Markham in Russia; Or, The Boy Travellers in the Land of the Czar

by William Henry Giles Kingston

After all, the terrible passport work was got through with much less trouble and expense than Cousin Giles was led to believe would be the case. One of the head clerks at the passport office, a Dane, who spoke English perfectly, assured him that if he went himself he would get the documents signed at once without bribery. The Government fees were very low, and beyond these he paid nothing. He was afterwards told that the Government wished to produce a good impression on the foreigners who were expected in the country to be present at the coronation, and had therefore issued directions to expedite the delivery of passports.

About this time, certainly, new regulations were made with regard to the passports for natives, and many of the old and most obnoxious ones were altered. Till now, a Russian, if he wished to move from one town to another, could not do so without giving several days’ notice to the police; and if he wished to leave the country he was compelled to beg permission to do so three months beforehand. Now, by getting any well-known person to be responsible for any debt he might leave unpaid, he was able to travel abroad at the notice of a day or two—indeed, as soon as the governor of his district would issue his passport. Of course it was a question how long this improved system was likely to last. Even now, both foreigners and natives could only get passports from one city to another; and thus Cousin Giles had taken out one for Moscow, but would be obliged then to take another to go farther into the interior. All the passport arrangements having been made, the travellers agreed to leave their letters of introduction, as a drizzling rain had come on, and would prevent them from enjoying the views presented by the city. When, however, Cousin Giles came to examine the paper of directions given by the banker, he found that they were written in the Russian character. Now as the Russian letters, although some of the capitals are somewhat alike in shape, have a totally different sound to the English, or indeed to any other European language, he could not read a word.

“Never mind,” said he; “perhaps our drosky drivers, our ishvoshtsticks, can read it.”

He showed it to the two men, who bent their heads with profound sagacity over the paper, letting the drops of rain from their shovel hats fall down on the document, nearly obliterating the writing; and then they called another of their profession to their council, but the united wisdom of all three apparently could make nothing of the inscription; for, at last returning it, they shook their heads very gravely, and shrugged their shoulders in a most significant manner.

“I daresay we shall fall in with some one or other who can speak English before long,” said Cousin Giles, who was never long at a loss on an emergency.

He accordingly stopped one or two people, whom he addressed with a polite bow in English and French, but they shrugged their shoulders and passed on. At last they met a German who spoke English, and he very willingly directed the ishvoshtsticks where to drive.

While Cousin Giles was paying one of his visits, and as it was near the luncheon hour at the hotel, he advised Fred and Harry to return there, promising soon to follow them.

“We can find our way there easily enough!” they both exclaimed; “we know exactly what to say to the ishvoshtstick—Angliskoy Nabergenoy—that’s it—the English Quay. Oh, we shall get along famously.”

Saying this, they jumped up on their fore-and-aft drosky, and, giving their directions as well as could any Russian, they thought, away they drove.

They were then in the Vasiliefskoi Ostrof quarter, or on Basilius Island. This is the name given to the large island which is to the north of the main channel of the Neva. Here is the Exchange, and many public buildings before mentioned, and here most of the English merchants reside. They drove on, remarking a variety of novel and curious sights on their way; but, forgetting to take due note of the direction in which they were going, they passed along the quay, and over one of the floating bridges, and then through some fine wide streets. They were amused with the guards stationed at the corners of streets in every quarter of the city. They were mostly thin, tall, lank men, in long coats reaching to their heels, with huge battle-axes on long poles in their hands, and helmets on their heads. What use they were of it was difficult to say, for they certainly could not have run after a thief, much less have knocked one down. The signs, also, in front of the shops appeared very ridiculous. Instead of the display of articles made by an English tradesman in his windows, there were large boards over the doors and windows, and their sides, and under the windows, painted with gigantic designs representing the chief articles to be found within. Huge gloves and stockings, and cravats and pocket-handkerchiefs, and boots and shoes, and coats and trousers, and hats and caps, and knives and forks and spoons—indeed, it is impossible to enumerate all the articles thus represented.