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

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Bird’s-eye View of Saint Petersburg from the Tower of the Admiralty—The Isaac Church—Politeness of a Russian Officer—The Hermitage Palace—Portraits of the Czars—Magnificent Hall—Superb View from it—Jewels—Relics of Peter the Great—The Winter and other Palaces—Bridge of Boats—Exchange—Church of Peter Paul—Tombs of the Czars.

Cousin Giles and his young companions had climbed up to the summit of the Admiralty tower on a fine bright morning, when they could enjoy the strange scene which this aerial position presented to their eyes.

“Let us take it in properly, and map it down in our memory,” said Cousin Giles after they had looked round and round, then to a distance, and down into the open spaces and streets below them, with their moving crowd of men, and horses, and carriages, of high and low degree, dashing and tearing here and there as if the lives of monarchs and the fate of kingdoms depended on their speed. “First, look to the east; there we have the rapid, clear Neva, flowing out of Lake Ladoga, which in our mind’s eye we can see in the distance, though it is too far off to be seen in reality. Then, in the same direction, near the outskirts of the city, the river branches off into several channels, making a delta like that of the Nile, and forming a number of islands of various dimensions—some so large that a considerable portion of the city to the north of us stands on them, others containing only a few gardens and villas. The country surrounding the city seems barren and desolate in the extreme, either an arid steppe or a stagnant marsh telling of the agues and fevers afflicting those dwelling near it. To the north, however, not many versts from the city, rise the hills and woods, and fields and orchards of Finland, inhabited by the finest peasantry of the Russian empire. To the west appear the shining waters of the head of the Gulf of Finland, with the fortifications of Cronstadt in the far distance, and a fleet of men-of-war before it; while higher up is a whole squadron of gun-boats, which were lately built and fitted out in a great hurry to meet those England had prepared to send into these waters. Across the head of the gulf, looking down on Cronstadt, peep forth amid a mass of green foliage the golden spires and domes, and white-walled palaces, and Swiss-looking villas of Peterhoff, beyond which, and far away as the eye can reach to the southward, and very, very much farther on, one great desolate steppe or plain, bearing for miles and miles scarcely a tree higher than a gooseberry bush, or a hill boasting a height of greater elevation than a molehill. Now let us bring our eyes nearer to our feet, to the mouth of the river. We see it crowded with steamers and every variety of craft of moderate size of all nations, and yet we know that the greater proportion of vessels which bade to the city do not come higher than Cronstadt. The large barges and lighters which we see moving up and down the river convey their cargoes to and from that place. High up the river, above the bridges, is another collection of vessels, and several are to be seen moving up and down the different channels; while the canals, which meander through the city in various directions, are literally jammed up with barges, chiefly unloading firewood. The canals pass down the middle of the broad streets, many of which are fringed with trees. At the mouth of the river, on the south side, is Mr Baird’s iron factory, where steam-engines and iron machines of all sorts are made; near it is his private residence. He is now a Russian baron, and is much esteemed by the Emperor. A little higher up is the new naval arsenal, with long sheds, where gangs of workmen are employed in chains, and through which runs a canal. Some men-of-war steamers are moored off it. Others are seen in different parts of the river, their guns commanding the quays; so that, should an émeute ever take place, the communication between the various quarters of the city would speedily be cut off. Groups of shipping are visible at different parts of the quays; but no ugly warehouses or stores of any sort are in sight, and their cargoes are quickly spirited away to other unaristocratical parts of the city. Here the mansions of the noble and wealthy have taken possession of the whole length of the quays. The first building of importance on the north side, opposite Mr Baird’s works, is the Corps of Mines. It is of great extent, and contains a museum stored with models, illustrating every branch of civil and military engineering, as well as some beautifully executed models of various descriptions of mines. Then come in succession, and nearly in the same line, the magnificent edifices containing the Academy of Arts, the University, the Academy of Sciences, the Corps of Cadets, and, lastly, the Exchange. Some of these buildings cover as much ground as many of the largest squares in London. Above the Exchange is Petersburg Island, which is covered with a strong fortification, called the Citadel. It contains a church called Peter Paul, built by Peter the Great, and which has a spire exactly like that of the Admiralty. On the island is also the cottage which Peter the Great inhabited while the foundations of his wondrous city were being laid. Beyond it, to the north and west, can be discerned some of the smaller channels of the silvery Neva, flowing among gardens and orchards, and green waving woods, with villas of every description of architecture, more suited apparently to the climate of the sunny south than to the cold atmosphere of this bleak region. Between the base of the building on which we stand and the northern portion of the city we have described, runs the main channel of the river. It is crossed by several broad bridges, resting on a chain of huge boats or barges, which can be removed when the approach of winter gives signs that, by means of the quick-forming ice, the inhabitants will be able to cross without their aid.

“We will now turn and face to the south. To the right is the long line of the English Quay, with its numerous handsome and substantial mansions, which in any other city would be called palaces. Then comes the great square or rather space below us, bordered by huge piles containing the chief public offices in the empire. Standing amid them, yet not pressed on too closely, rises the proud structure of the new Church of Saint Isaac, with its four granite-columned porticoes. Then radiating off directly before us are the three widest and longest streets perhaps in Europe: first in magnificence comes the Neva Perspective, and then comes Peas Street, and the Resurrection Perspective; but running out of them are also streets of great width, composed of houses of numerous storeys and undoubted pretensions to grandeur. The Neva Perspective is the most interesting. On the right side of it stands the Kazan Church, which it was intended should be like Saint Peter’s at Rome; but, except that it has a wide-spreading portico with numerous columns, it is in no way to be compared to that magnificent structure. On the same side is a building, or rather a collection of buildings, which at a distance have no very imposing appearance. This is the great market of Saint Petersburg, or the Gostinnoi dvor. It consists of a series of arcades, in front of stores of two or more storeys, forming the outside boundary of an extensive region of squares, which have likewise arcades running round them, the area being filled with garden produce and rough wares not liable to be injured by weather. Here every article, either for use or consumption, which the lower orders can possibly require, is to be found, from a hat to a cucumber, or a pair of shoes to a leg of mutton; but, as our friends were about to visit the place, it need not now be further described.

“At the very end of the street could be seen the terminus of the Saint Petersburg and Moscow railway, the iron road itself running far, far away to the southward across the flat and marshy steppe. On either side of this prince of streets, the Neva Prospect, and in many streets branching from it, could be seen a number of lofty and magnificent palaces with here and there golden-domed churches, and many public buildings, convents, and monasteries, and wide walks fringed with trees, and canals carrying produce from far-off countries into the very heart of the city. Let us have one look more before we descend at Peter’s Statue, not bigger apparently than a child’s toy, and the Alexander Column, and the golden domes of the Isaac Church, and the huge Winter Palace, and the Hermitage, and the Imperial Theatre, and the long line of palaces facing the quays of the Neva beyond them; then we have to-day witnessed a sight not easily forgotten.

“Saint Petersburg, as it stands on its millions of wooden piles, the liquid, rapidly-flowing Neva, the moving, living crowd of uniform-clad inhabitants—men, women, and children, coaches, droskies, and horses, infantry and cavalry, Cossacks of the Don on their ragged ponies, and skeleton-looking guards with their glittering halberds at every corner. Those at home may gain a fair notion of the scene from Burford’s Panorama, but they will soon forget it, while we shall remember it all our lives: there is nothing like the reality to impress it on our minds.” So said Cousin Giles as our friends began to descend into the world below.

“We must now visit some of these places in detail,” said Cousin Giles as they stood in the square outside the Admiralty gates. “Where shall we go first?”

“To the big new church!” exclaimed Harry. “I want to see if it is as fine inside as it is out.”

To the Isaac Church accordingly they steered their course. On their way they encountered a party of British naval officers, whose ship was lying at Cronstadt. Several of them were well-known to Cousin Giles, and they gladly accepted his invitation to visit the church. When, however, they got to the gate in the wooden paling which still surrounded it, the porter signified to them that without a ticket they could not be admitted. Even a silver rouble could not soften him. He looked at it wistfully, but for some reason was afraid of accepting the bribe. Just as they were going away in despair, a tall, gentleman-like officer stepped through the gateway. He looked at them for an instant, and then inquired in French what they wanted. Cousin Giles explained.

“Oh, I will soon arrange that, I doubt not,” he replied, returning into the enclosure. He quickly came back, and begged them to enter. “After you have seen the church, if you will come to the Hermitage, I will be there, and shall have great pleasure in showing you over it.”