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

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The Gate of Triumph, which forms the northern entrance to the city, is built of stone, after the model of one at Rome, but with a taste which would make a Roman stare. All the statues and ornaments about it are painted of every variety of colour, so that it has the appearance of a wooden structure put up by the rustic inhabitants of some country village to welcome the lord of the estate.

The Palace of Petrofsky is itself a curious sight. It is a huge pile, of a bright red colour, intermingled with white, and covered with every conceivable device in the way of ornament. It has circular walls projecting out in front from the main building, in shape and colour very like lobsters’ claws, and there are the brightest green roofs, and numberless domes, and cupolas, and minarets, and towers, and spires, covered with burnished gold, which make one suppose that a very rich man must live within. On a wide, open space in front of the palace, wonderfully grand preparations were making for a fête which was to be given to the people on the occasion of the coronation.

At a short distance before the palace stood a magnificent pavilion, intended to hold the Imperial family. A little of the woodwork yet unpainted showed that it was not a solid structure of stone. No people can equal the Russians in making the false pass for the real. On either side of the pavilion were others, each of a different style of architecture, for the use of the chief nobility of the realm. Before them, at some little distance, were two theatres, in comparison with which the magnificence of the old fair-going booth of Richardson would have grown dim. They might be called theatres, but they were only the semi-part of the theatre; the open common, with the blue sky overhead, was the space intended for the audience. Then there were several Montagnes Russe, but, instead of being made of ice and snow, they were built of wood. They consist of high elevations, facing each other, with a slope between them; people ascend to the top by steps, where they find cars of wood. They place themselves in the cars, and then are sent sliding down one slope with such force that they are propelled up the opposite slope.

But this was only a small part of the entertainment prepared for the people. There were fountains which, instead of throwing up jets of cold, insipid water, were to spout forth incessantly into huge tanks a stream of the much-loved vodka, from which all around might draw forth and drink to their hearts’ content.

What more perfect idea of a terrestrial paradise would a thirsty mujick seek for than did these preparations afford him? How munificent and kind must he have considered the Emperor who could provide such an entertainment for him, especially when near to the fountains of vodka there were spread out long tables and benches, covering some acres of ground, which it was said were to be loaded with provisions, of which all-comers of humble rank might partake!

The travellers had to drive in and out among the tables, and they pictured to themselves the jovial, happy crowd who would soon be assembled around them, enjoying themselves, and drinking long life and prosperity to their Czar—a perfect picture of an Arcadian banquet. Farther on were large booths, containing the kitchens where the provisions for the vast multitudes were to be cooked; and there were also other sheds, where the bread, and meat, and grain of all sorts were to be stored. All this feasting and amusement was to last three days, and no one seemed to be able to estimate how many thousands of persons would attend the rural banquet.

“Alas!” exclaimed Cousin Giles, “this may be a certain way of winning the momentary applause of an ignorant mob, but it is a miserable way of gaining the love of a people, of improving their character, of instructing them in their duties, by thus pandering to their lowest tastes. I suspect that it will not even secure the object desired. What a contrast does it afford to the way our own enlightened sovereign takes to win the affections of her people!”

“We had the fireworks at the peace,” observed Fred; “they were only to please the mob.”

“Yes, to be sure,” said Cousin Giles; “that was an old-fashioned way of letting the people know that peace was concluded. They could in days of yore, when newspapers were rare, have scarcely known it without; now such a proceeding is quite unnecessary. A large sum was squandered which would have been much better spent in enabling our artisans in the dockyards, thrown out of employment by the peace, to emigrate; besides which, it was said that numbers of people were kept working on several Sundays to get them finished in time. If such was the case, a national sin was added to a national folly.”

Cousin Giles’ conjectures with regard to the uselessness of the feast prepared for the mujicks were realised. No sooner each day were the tables covered, than the mob rushed forward and bore off whatever they could lay hands on, so that the later comers had nothing to eat; while fountains of vodka refused to supply sufficient liquid to quench the thirst of the vast multitudes which thronged round them. There was, therefore, far more complaint and grumbling, than love or gratitude exhibited towards the supposed provider of the entertainment—the Czar.