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

by William Henry Giles Kingston

On Tuesday morning they were at the entrance of the Gulf of Finland, and in the evening they were passing the island of Nargen, with the town of Revel, just rising out of the water, seen through their glasses beyond it on the starboard hand.

The morning of Wednesday broke cold and grey, but in the forenoon the sun burst forth and shone brightly; and the sea was rippled over by a westerly breeze, which increased every hour in strength, and carried before it numberless vessels of all nations and rigs, though the galliots of Holland undoubtedly predominated. About noon, in this numerous company, they passed the lighthouse on the island of Tolbuken, which was held by the English during the late war, and whence the British officers with their glasses could discover all that was going on behind the batteries of Cronstadt. At about half-past one, a gun fired across the bows of the steamer by the Russian guardship hinted to her that she must heave-to; which being done, some officers came on board to examine her papers and the passengers’ passports, to drink the master’s wine, or spirits, or bottled ale, and carry away any gunpowder or fireworks which might be on board. Ahead lay a large Russian fleet of line-of-battle ships, frigates, steamers, brigs, and schooners, now at length able to show their noses out of port; while a little way beyond rose those formidable batteries which had so lately, by their very appearance, been able to damp the ardour of some of England’s naval chieftains. On the left side was the island of Cronstadt, with its fortifications, its town with its spires and domes, and its harbour, capable of sheltering a large man-of-war fleet; and on the right, opposite to it, were two circular batteries, which looked like huge white factories rising out of the water; only instead of windows, there were ports, while enormous guns in lieu of rainspouts crowned their summits, without even a parapet to hide their carriages. On the southern part of the chief island was a similar tower.

Most of the passengers had some favourite plan of their own for taking the fortress,—especially some commercial travellers, who were loud in their expressions of scorn at the want of success of Napier and Dundas, and the sad degeneracy of the British navy. Cousin Giles was much amused, and advised them to lay their plans before the English Government, and to offer their services as commanders-in-chief of her fleets and armies.

As the vessels steamed on, the travellers had on their left side the rocky and wood-covered heights of Finland, between which and the island of Cronstadt there is a narrow but tolerably deep passage. Through this passage, which was unknown to the Russians themselves, the English admiral proposed to send up a fleet of gun-boats and small steamers had the attack on the fortress been resolved on. On the right hand from this entrance into the Gulf of Finland they had had the province of Esthonia. They now had that of Saint Petersburg, the shores of which appeared high and well wooded. They by this time had reached what may be considered nearly the end of the Gulf of Finland; for, although above Cronstadt there is still a fine expanse of water, it is generally very shallow, there being only a narrow and intricate channel, worked by the strong current of the Neva.

Among the various craft they passed, they were much amused by the little Finnish schooners, which went careering on before the breeze, laden chiefly with firewood, or some other not very valuable cargo, for the Saint Petersburg markets. They were built of fir, with very little paint, very few ropes, and had very white canvas. Altogether they had, as Cousin Giles observed, an exceedingly fresh-water look about them. The Finns who manned them were, however, hardy fellows, and formed by far the best seamen on board the Russian men-of-war. The Russians are not good salt-water sailors; they have no taste for the sea, and are not likely to obtain it. Peter the Great tried to form a navy. He succeeded in building ships, but it was quite a different thing when he tried to find seamen to man them. A gentleman on board told the lads a story, and they much wished to know if he could vouch for its truth. The late Emperor Nicholas on some occasion wanted to send a line-of-battle ship in a hurry to sea. No men were to be found. The Emperor was indignant that anything should oppose his imperial will. He stormed and raged; but even to appease his wrath no men could be made to rise out of the earth. At last his eyes fell on a regiment of dragoons who were defiling slowly by.

“Ah!” he exclaimed, as a bright thought struck him, “why should not those tall fellows make good seamen?” He called the colonel to him. “Colonel,” said he; “order your men to dismount, and do you and your officers lead them on board that ship, and get her under weigh immediately. There is no time to be lost. You’ll have something to learn, probably; but that does not matter—it is my will—do it.”

The poor colonel knew that there was no use expostulating. The men were ordered aloft—cocked hats, jack-boots, and spurs. Up they went, the upper ones with their dreadful spurs catching those following by eyes, or noses, or mouths; and the surprising thing was that any got up at all. There is, however, nothing that a Russian cannot do, in a way, when put to it. The topsails were at length loosed, the anchor was got up, and the ship was actually under weigh; but where she went to, or if she ever went anywhere at all, their friend could not exactly say.

All this time the steamer was passing among the Russian men-of-war. Some of them were huge, towering line-of-battle ships, and all of them, outwardly at least, were in prime order. At length the steamer ran in past a high white tower between two piers, the screw stopped, she was hauled alongside a wharf, and the voyage was ended. Instantly she was filled with men in grey and blue uniforms. They were custom-house officers, who came professedly to prevent smuggling, but in reality to collect any fees they could pick up.

The travellers now heard for the first time the incomprehensible sounds of the Russian language, while their eyes were amused with the various and strange costumes of the wild-looking shouting people who surrounded them. Some of the officers had shaven chins, but most of the people had long beards, and straggling hair flowing from beneath their caps; but, unattractive as were their countenances generally, they wore an aspect of good-nature and simplicity which made amends for their ugliness.

In a short time a little steamer came alongside the Ladoga, into which the passengers and their luggage were transferred, to be conveyed up to Saint Petersburg under charge of a party of the militarily-equipped custom-house officers. The little satellite shoved off from the side of the big steamer, the master stood on the taffrail with his hat in his hand, the passengers waved theirs; and thus they bade farewell, most of them for ever, to the ill-fated Ladoga. After leaving the mole, they passed along the wharves of the Imperial Dockyard, within which were collected a great number of line-of-battle ships and frigates laid up in ordinary, which, as Fred said, looked like idle sulky fellows shut up in a poor-house with nothing to do.