Overland through Asia; Pictures of Siberian, Chinese, and Tartar Part 51

Under Catherine and Paul they were persecuted, and, as a matter of course, increased their numbers rapidly. For the past sixty years oppression has been removed, and they have done pretty nearly as they liked. They are found in all parts of the empire, but are most numerous in the vicinity of the Ural mountains.

Russia has its share of fanatical sects, some of whom push their religion to a wonderful extreme. One sect has a way of sacrificing children by a sort of slow torture in no way commendable. Another sect makes a burnt offering of some of its adherents, who are selected by lot. They enter a house prepared for the occasion, and begin a service of singing and prayer. After a time spent in devotions, the building is set on fire and consumed with its occupants. Another sect which is mentioned elsewhere practices the mutilation of masculine believers, and steals children for adoption into their families. Against all these fanatics the government exercises its despotic power.

The peasants are generally very devout, and keep all the days of the church with becoming reverence. There is a story that a moujik waylaid and killed a traveler, and while rifling the pockets of his victim found a cake containing meat. Though very hungry he would not eat the cake, because meat was forbidden in the fast then in force.

[Ill.u.s.tration: RUSSIAN PRIEST.]

The government is endeavoring to diminish the power and influence of the priests, and the number of saints' days, when men must abstain from, labor. Heretofore the priests have enjoyed the privilege of recruiting the clergy from their own members. When a village priest died his office fell to his son, and if he had no male heir the revenues went to his eldest daughter until some priest married her and took charge of the parish. By special order of the emperor any vacancy is hereafter to be filled by the most deserving candidate.

It is said that during the Crimean war the governor of Moscow notified the pastor of the English church in that city that the prayer for the success of Her Brittanic Majesty's armies must be omitted. The pastor appealed to the emperor, who replied that prayers of regular form might continue to be read, no matter what they contained. The governor made no further interference.

About three o'clock in the afternoon of the second day from Kazan, the yemshick pointed out the spires of Nijne Novgorod, on the southern bank of the Volga. A fleet of steamers, barges, and soudnas lay sealed in the ice along the sh.o.r.e, waiting for the moving of the waters. The road to the north bank was marked with pine boughs, that fringed the moving line of sleighs and sledges. We threaded our way among the stationary vessels, and at length came before the town. A friend had commended me to the Hotel de la Poste, and I ordered the yemshick to drive there. With an eye to his pocket the fellow carried me to an establishment of the same name on the other side of the Oka. I had a suspicion that I was being swindled, but as they blandly informed me that no other hotel with that t.i.tle existed, I alighted and ordered my baggage up.

This was the end of my sleigh ride. I had pa.s.sed two hundred and nine stations, with as many changes of horses and drivers. Nearly seven hundred horses had been attached to my sleigh, and had drawn me over a road of greatly varied character. Out of forty days from Irkutsk, I spent sixteen at the cities and towns on the way. I slept twenty-six nights in my sleigh with the thermometer varying from thirty-five degrees above zero to forty-five below, and encountered four severe storms and a variety of smaller ones. Including the detour to Barnaool, my sleigh ride was about thirty-six hundred miles long. From Stratensk by way of Kiachta to Irkutsk, I traveled not far from fourteen hundred miles with wheeled vehicles, and made ninety-three changes. My whole ride from steam navigation on the Amoor to the railway at Nijne Novgorod was very nearly five thousand miles.

There was a manifest desire to swindle me at the bogus Hotel de la Poste. Half a dozen attendants carried my baggage to my room, and each demanded a reward. When I gave the yemshick his "na vodka," an officious attendant suggested that the gentleman should be very liberal at the end of his ride. I asked for a bath, and they ordered a sleigh to take me to a bathing establishment several squares away. My proposition to be content for the present with a wash basin was p.r.o.nounced impossible, until I finished the argument with my left boot. The waiter finally became affectionate, and when I ordered supper he suggested comforts not on the bill of fare. The landlord proposed to purchase my sleigh and superfluous furs, and we concluded a bargain at less than a twelfth of their cost.

After a night's rest I recrossed the Oka and drove to the town. Here I found the veritable Hotel de la Poste, to which I immediately changed my quarters. The house overlooked a little park enclosing a pond, where a hundred or more persons were skating. The park was well shaded, and must be quite pleasant in summer. The town hardly deserves the name of Nijne (Lower) Novgorod, as it stands on a bluff nearly two hundred feet above the river. Its lower town contains little else than small shops, storehouses, poor hotels, and steamboat offices. The Kremlin, or fortress, looks down from a very picturesque position, and its strong walls have a defiant air. From the edge of the bluff the view is wide; the low field and forest land on the opposite side of the river, the sinuous Volga and its tributary, the Oka, are all visible for a long distance. Opposite, on a tongue of land between the Volga and the Oka, is the scene of the fair of Nijne Novgorod, the greatest, I believe, in the world.

There are many fine houses in the upper town, with indications of considerable wealth. I had a letter of introduction to the Chief of Police, Colonel Kretegin, who kindly showed me the princ.i.p.al objects of interest in and around the Kremlin. The monument to the memory of Minin Sukhoruky possessed the greatest historical importance. This man, a peasant and butcher, believed himself called to deliver Russia from the Poles in 1612. He awakened his countrymen, and joined a Russian n.o.ble in leading them to expel the invaders. A bronze monument at Moscow represents Minin starting on his mission. The memorial at Nijne is of a less elaborate character.

We drove through the fair grounds, which wore as empty of occupants as Goldsmith's deserted village. It is laid out like a regular town or city, and most of its houses are substantially built. So much has been written about this commercial center that I will not attempt its description, especially as I was not there in fair season. The population of the town--ordinarily forty thousand--becomes three hundred thousand during the fair. More than half a million persons have visited the city in a single summer, and the value of goods sold or exchanged during each fair is about two hundred millions of roubles.

Colonel Kretegin told me that the members of the Fox emba.s.sy were much astonished at finding American goods for sale at Nijne Novgorod. It would be difficult to mention any part of the civilized world where some article of our manufacture has not penetrated.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TAIL PIECE]

CHAPTER LII.

At the close of the second day at Nijne Novgorod I started for Moscow.

As we drove from the hotel to the railway the jackdaws, perched everywhere on the roofs, were unusually noisy. Leaving Asia and entering Europe, the magpie seemed to give place to the jackdaw. The latter bird inhabits the towns and cities east of the Ural mountains, and we frequently saw large flocks searching the debris along the Volga road. He a.s.sociates freely with the pigeon, and appears well protected by public sentiment. Possibly his uneatable character and his fancied resemblance to the pigeon saves him from being knocked in the head. Pigeons are very abundant in all Russian cities, and their tameness is a matter of remark among foreign visitors.

The railway station is across the Oka and near the site of the annual fair. We went at a smashing pace down hill and over the ice to the other side, narrowly missing several collisions. At the railway I fell to the charge of two porters, who carried my baggage while I sought the ticket office. A young woman speaking French officiated at the desk, and furnished me with a _billet de voyage_ to Moscow.

In the waiting room a hundred or more persons were gathered. The men were well wrapped in furs, and among the ladies hoods were more numerous than bonnets. Three-fourths of the males and a third of the females were smoking cigarettes, and there was no prohibition visible.

In accordance with the national taste the chief article sold at the _buffet_ was hot tea in tumblers.

Some one uttered "Sibeerski" as, clad in my dehar, I walked past a little group. To keep up appearances and kill time I drank tea, until the door opened and a rush was made for the train. There is an adage in Germany that three kinds of people--fools, princes, and Americans--travel first cla.s.s. To continue Russian pretences, and by the advice of a friend, I took a second cla.s.s ticket, and found the accommodation better than the average of first cla.s.s cars in America.

How strange was the sensation of railway travel! Since I last experienced it, I had journeyed more than half around the globe. I had been tossed on the Pacific and adjacent waters, had ascended the great river of northern Asia, had found the rough way of life along the frozen roads beyond the Baikal, and ended with that long, long ride over Siberian snows. I looked back through a long vista of earth and snow, storm and sunshine, starlight and darkness, rolling sea and placid river, rugged mountains and extended plains.

The hardships of travel were ended as I reached the land of railways, and our motion as we sped along the track seemed more luxurious than ever before. Contrasted with the cramped and narrow sleigh, pitching over ridges and occasionally overturning, the carriage where I sat appeared the perfection of locomotive skill. How sweet is pleasure after pain. Sunshine is brightest in the morning, and prosperity has a keener zest when it follows adversity. To be truly enjoyed, our lives must be chequered with light and shadow, and varied with different scenes.

The railway between Nijne Novgorod and Moscow is about two hundred and fifty miles in length, and was built by French and Russian capital combined. There is only one pa.s.senger train each way daily, at a speed not exceeding twenty miles an hour.

In the compartment where I sat there was a young French woman, governess in a family at Simbirsk, with a Russian female servant accompanying her. The governess was chatty, and invited me to join her in a feast of bon-bons, which she devoured at a prodigious rate. The servant was becomingly silent, and solaced herself with cigarettes.

The restaurants along the road are quite well supplied, especially those where full meals are provided. Two hours after starting we halted ten minutes for tea and cigarettes. Two hours later we had thirty minutes for supper, which was all ready at our arrival. About midnight we stopped at the ancient city of Vladimir, where there is a cathedral founded in the twelfth century. Stepping from the train to get a night glimpse of the place, I found a substantial supper (or breakfast) spread for consumption. In justice to the Russians, I am happy to say very few patronized this midnight table.

At daybreak I rubbed the frost from a window and looked upon a stretch of snow and frost, with peasant cottages few and far between. An hour later, our speed slackened. Again cleaning the gla.s.s and peering through it, a large city came in sight.

It was Moscow,--"Holy Moscow,"--the city of the Czars, and beloved of every Russian. Suffering through Tartar, Polish, and French occupations, it has survived pillage, ma.s.sacre, fire, and famine, and remains at this day the most thoroughly national of the great cities of the empire. The towers and domes of its many churches glittered in the morning sunlight as they glittered half a century ago, when Napoleon and his soldiers first climbed the hills that overlook the city.

It was a long drive from the station to the hotel. The morning was clear and cold, and the snow in the streets had been ground into a sand-like ma.s.s several inches deep. The solid foundation beneath was worn with hollows and ridges, that vividly recalled the oukhabas of the post road. Streets were full of sleds and sleighs, the latter dashing at a rapid rate. In the region near the station there were so many signs of '_Trakteer_' as to suggest the possibility of one half the inhabitants selling tea, beer, and qua.s.s to the other half. Near the center of the city the best shops displayed signs in French or English, generally the former.

Of course I went early to the Kremlin. Who has ever read or talked of Moscow without its historic fortress? Entering by the Sacred Gate, I lifted my hat in comformity to the custom, from which not even the emperor is exempt. One of my school-books contained a description of the Czar Kolokol, or Great Bell, and stated that a horse and chaise could pa.s.s through the hole where a piece was broken from one side.

Possibly the miniature vehicle of Tom Thumb could be driven through, but, certainly, no ordinary one-horse shay could have any prospect of success. The hole is six feet in height, by about a yard wide at the bottom, and narrows like a wedge toward the top. The height and diameter of the bell are respectively nineteen feet four inches by twenty feet three inches. It weighs 444,000 pounds. It was cast in 1733, by order of the Empress Anne, and the hole in its side was made by the falling of some rafters during a fire in 1737. It remained buried in the ground until 1836, when it was raised and placed on its present pedestal by order of the Emperor Nicholas.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GREAT BELL OF MOSCOW.]

To enumerate all the wonders of the Kremlin would consume much time and s.p.a.ce. Somebody tells of a Yankee gazing at Niagara, and lamenting that a magnificent water power should run to waste. I could not help wondering how many miles of railway could be built from the proceeds of the ma.s.s of wealth inside the Kremlin. Diamonds, rubies, pearls, crowns, sceptres, thrones, princely and priestly robes, are gathered in such numbers that eye and brain become weary in their contemplation. The most interesting of these treasures are those around which cling historic a.s.sociations. The crowns of the kingdoms of Kazan and Astrachan point to the overthrow of Tartar power in Europe, while the throne of Poland symbolizes the westward course of the Muscovite star of empire. There are flags borne or captured in Russia's victories, from the storming of Kazan and the defence of Albazin down to the suppression of Polish revolt. Mute and dumb witnesses of the misfortunes of the _Grand Armee_ are the long rows of cannon that lie near the Kremlin palace. Three hundred and sixty-five French guns tell of Napoleon's disastrous march to Moscow.

The holiest part of holy Moscow is within the Kremlin. In the church of the a.s.sumption, the czars of Russia, from John the Terrible down to the present day, have been crowned. In the Michael church, until the accession of Peter the Great, the Rurik and Romanoff dynasties were buried; while another church witnessed their baptism, and marriage.

What a wonderful amount of gold and jewels are visible in the churches and chapels of the Kremlin! The floor of one is of jasper and agate; pearl and amethyst and onyx adorn the inner walls of another. One has vast pillars of porphyry, and the domes and turrets of all are liberally spread or starred with gold. The pictures of the infant Saviour and his mother are hung with necklaces of jewels, each of them almost a fortune. One might easily think that the wealth of Ormuz or of Ind had been gathered to adorn the shrines of the most oriental Christian faith.

I visted the Imperial Theatre, which the Muscovites p.r.o.nounce the finest in the world. To my mind it is only equaled by La Scala at Milan, or San Carlo at Naples. Outside it reminded me of our _ci-devant_ Academy of Music. Inside it was gorgeous, well arranged, and s.p.a.cious.

[Ill.u.s.tration: VIEW ON THE NEVSKI PROSPECT--ST. PETERSBURGH.]

The _Kitai Gorod,_ or Chinese town of Moscow, is close by the Kremlin and outside its walls. The only feature worthy the name of this part of the city is the number of Tartar inhabitants and the immense bazaar, or Gustinni Dvor, where the princ.i.p.al trade of Moscow has been centered for nearly three hundred years. The quant.i.ty of goods in the bazaar is something enormous. A Russian said to me: "If half the houses in Moscow were stripped of furniture, ornaments, and all things save the walls and roofs; if their inhabitants were plundered of all clothing and personal goods except their bank accounts,--the _gastinni dvor_ could supply every deficiency within two hours. You may enter the bazaar wearing nothing but your shirt, and can depart in an hour dressed and decorated in any manner you choose, and riding in your carriage with driver and footman in livery."

The railway between St. Petersburg and Moscow is a government affair, and forms nearly a direct line from one city to the other. It is said that the emperor Nicholas placed a ruler on the map and drew a line from one capital to the other to mark the route the engineers must follow. Notwithstanding the favorable character of the country the cost of the road was enormous, in consequence of alleged peculations.

There is a story that the government once wished to make a great impression upon a Persian emba.s.sy. All the marvels of St. Petersburg and Moscow were exhausted, but the oriental emba.s.sadors remained serene and unmoved.

"What shall we do to surprise them," the emperor demanded of his prime minister.

"Nothing is better, sire," replied that official, "than to tell them the cost of the Imperial railway."

One hears more about stealing and bribe taking in Russia than in any other country I ever visited. The evil is partly on account of low salaries and great expense of living, and partly due to ancient custom. The emperor has endeavored to establish a reform in this particular, but the difficulties are very great because of the secret character of "palm-greasing," It is related that a German _savant_ once remarked to Nicholas that he could do Russia a great service by breaking up the system of financial corruption. "To get such a project in action," replied the emperor, "I must begin by bribing my prime minister."

Of the country between the capitals I saw very little. In the cars the double windows, covered with frost, were about as transparent as a drop curtain. We stopped at a great many capacious and well built stations, where there was abundant opportunity for feeding and drinking. The journey commenced at two in the afternoon, and was finished at ten on the following morning. The distance, according to official measurement, is four hundred and three miles.

The train halted at the station nearest St. Petersburg, and as we stood a moment upon the platform, we saw the great, gilded dome of St.

Isaac's cathedral rising over the city. In St. Petersburg my first duty was to take breakfast, a bath, and a change of clothes at a hotel, and then, to drive to the banker's for letters from home. I had not seen an American for five months; as I alighted from my droshky, a well-dressed individual looked at me, and not to be outdone I returned his glance. Our eyes peered over two fur collars that exposed very little of our faces. After a moment's hesitation each of us spoke the other's name, and I experienced the double pleasure of meeting in one individual a countryman and an old friend.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TAIL PIECE--MEETING AN OLD FRIEND]

[Ill.u.s.tration: MAP _to accompany_ THOS. W. KNOX'S "Overland through Asia"]