THE JOURNEY TO MOSCOW.
"I think it is absolutely villanous to let that little pauper go down the Volga, when there are so many of us who pay our bills, that wish to go," said De Forrest, angrily, when it was rumored that the first division of the students, with the Volga party would start that day for Moscow.
"Well, he was fairly elected, I suppose," replied Beckwith.
"Elected!" sneered De Forrest. "Scott elected him. When he takes snuff, all the fellows in the steerage sneeze."
"I thought you were going to get up a petition to the principal to have the old method of giving out the offices restored, and have this voting business done with."
"I talked with some of the fellows about it, but most of them said they wouldn't sign."
"Why not?"
"Some of them said they rather liked the fun and excitement of the election; others said they had gone in for the thing, and didn't like to take the back track. I shouldn't wonder if they had joined the Bangwhangers. Between you and me, Beckwith, I am getting a littletired of the ship."
"Tired of it? I thought you considered it the biggest thing in the world."
"Well, I did; but it is about played out. I worked hard to be captain, but never got higher than third lieutenant; now I'm only a purser."
"You didn't work very hard last month," suggested Beckwith.
"I didn't think it was any use when I saw such fellows as Cantwell, Sheridan, and Murray getting in ahead of me, in spite of all I could do. No matter for that; Russia is a big country."
"That's so."
"A fellow could easily get lost in it, for none of us speak a word of Russian, and most of us not much French or German," added De Forrest, dropping his voice down to a whisper.
Beckwith looked at him, and tried to comprehend his meaning.
"Those fellows that ran away in Sweden, pretending they couldn't find the ship, got off easy," added the purser.
"Not one of them has been punished, except Stockwell, who was only deprived of his position as coxswain of the second cutter," replied Beckwith, beginning to understand his friend. "All of them have been allowed to go on shore with the rest."
"I should like to take just such an excursion on the same terms," continued De Forrest.
"But those fellows owned up, made a clean breast of it, and promised to be good boys. The penalty hung over them for a week, and only theirgood behavior saved them."
"Do you want to go down the Volga, Beck?"
"Of course I do. I would buy out any fellow's chance if I could."
"Perhaps we may go yet," replied De Forrest, with a wink.
"How?"
"Never mind it now. We are both in the first division, and shall go to Moscow with the others. We will talk about it when we get there. I expect to drop into the steerage next month, and I had as lief be hanged for an old sheep as a lamb. Don't say anything."
"Of course not; but you don't mean to run away—do you?"
"Dry up!"
"Nobody is near us."
"I never was so disgusted with anything in my life as I am with this election business. If I say anything, the fellows tell me it is a chicken of my own hatching. Now, Cantwell pretends to be one of the chaplain's lambs, affects a gentlemanly bearing, and studies seamanship when all of us are on shore. Then he gave that Billy Bobstay a hundred rubles, and the fellows all cheered him for it. I am so mad, I can hardly hold in. I would rather be in a slave ship than here. I'm nobody now."
De Forrest's schemes for his personal advancement had been utterly defeated, and this fact was the key to his disgust. Though he had been a wild boy on shore, he had done very well on board of the ship, stimulated by the hope of promotion, and by the enjoyment of hisposition in the cabin. His fall from the rank of lieutenant had a bad effect upon him, for instead of working to recover his lost position, he permitted evil thoughts to take possession of his mind, and chose to regard himself as an abused individual. Like many men in public life, he had frittered away whatever influence he had by laboring for self, instead of the general good. The students of the Academy "saw through him," and realized that he acted only from selfish considerations, just as the sensible people penetrate the motives of the politicians. If he was "nobody" now, it was clearly his own fault.
"What are you going to do, De Forrest?" asked Beckwith.
"We won't talk about it now, for there will be plenty of time to consider that matter when we get to Moscow. Do you know who will have charge of our party?"
"I heard some one mention the chaplain."
"Good!" exclaimed De Forrest. "He is not particularly sharp."
"But Dr. Winstock will go to Moscow with us, and accompany the Volga party to Kazan."
"All right; he will leave us in a day or two," replied the purser, with a significant smile, as though the arrangement just suited him. "How much money have you, Beckwith?"
"I drew twenty pounds in St. Petersburg the other day, and I changed my money in Stockholm into Russian paper. I have nearly two hundred rubles."
"Is that all you have?"
"I thought that was a pretty big pile."
"I have a letter of credit for a hundred pounds, upon which I can draw in any city of Europe," added the purser.
"Well, I can get more when I write for it."
"You had better write, then, for you haven't enough left to last you three weeks."
"I don't know where we are going next," said Beckwith.
"The squadron is going to Hamburg, I believe, and from there on a long cruise, which may use up five or six weeks."
"You mean up the Mediterranean."
"Yes; and if I were you, I would have a letter of credit sent to me at Constantinople."
"Perhaps I will; but what's up, De Forrest?"
"Don't say a word now. All our chances for a soft thing are gone in this ship, and if you want to enjoy yourself for the rest of the season, keep your weather eye open, and follow my lead—that's all for the present."
At ten o'clock in the forenoon, the first division of the tourists, with the Volga party, embarked in the steamer for St. Petersburg. Each of the students had his pea-jacket and small bag. Mr. Agneau, the chaplain, was in charge of the division, and the surgeon, of the Volga party. On their arrival they took omnibuses for the Moscow station. Tickets for the party were procured, with places in thevoiture au lit, or sleeping car. The distance to Moscow is six hundred and four versts, or four hundred miles. The fare is nineteen rubles, first class, and thirteen rubles, second class. The time is twenty hours by the express train,and four or five more by ordinary trains. Twenty miles an hour is rather slow for a fast train, but it is about the usual rate in Russia.
"That's it; this is a Yankee invention," said Scott, as Dr. Winstock handed him his ticket, which was precisely like those of the patented system used on most of the American railroads. "This looks like home. It is stamped with the date, and I suppose they have the machine for doing it. Here, doctor; the date is wrong."
"Wrong?" replied the surgeon, glancing at his ticket. "June 2; that's right."
"To-day is the 14th, sir."
"The 2d in Russia, my boy," laughed the doctor, hastening away to distribute his tickets.
"I suppose you know what Old Style means, Scott—don't you?" said Lincoln.
"Well, I have heard of such a thing, but I didn't suppose any nation was insane enough to use it."
"The Russians are, and consequently are just twelve days behind the times."
"More than that."
"Pope Gregory reformed the calendar, and for this reason the Russians will not adopt the Gregorian system, but use the Julian, or Greek calendar."
"I say, commodore, don't your head ache?"
"No; why should it?"
"Because it is so full. I couldn't carry so much useful knowledge around with me, unless I had a basket to tote it in."
"I have looked the matter up since I came here. Have you drawn any money in St. Petersburg."
"Unfortunately, I have before me the melancholy duty of spending nearlytwo hundred of these yellow paper rubles. Sad—isn't it?"
"Have you yourbordereau?" asked the commodore.
"My what?"
"Yourbordereau."
"No, no; I haven't that. I ate it instead of pickled onions for my dinner yesterday," replied Scott, gravely.
"Indeed!"
"Yes; and if you have one you had better eat it, for they are first rate."
"Here is mine," added Lincoln, taking from his pocket the memorandum, which the banker had given him, of the rate of exchange and amount of money paid him. "You see the date is back in May, for I drew on the 10th of June."
"Just so; and that is abordereau—is it?"
"Yes."
"Well, it looks like one."
"Would you like to eat it instead of pickled onions?"
"No; instead ofcaviar. But suppose we look into the cars," added Scott, as they passed into the room from which passengers step upon the trains.
They entered the second-class sleeping-car. It was altogether a different affair from that used in the United States; but only two rubles extra are charged for this accommodation, though that is all it is worth. It was a large, clumsily-built carriage, with a door in the middle of each side, and one at each end opening upon a platform. On the top was a second story, which, however, was only about half the size of the lower part. The side doors open into an apartment in the middle ofthe car, furnished with one large arm-chair in a corner, and seats on the sides. From this room a flight of steps ascends to the second-story apartment. From this central corridor two long passage-ways, on opposite sides of the car, lead to the ends. From each of these passage-ways three or four compartments are entered, each with two seats facing each other. The passengers lie upon these seats at night, being provided with a pillow, but with no covering of any kind. Each compartment has one or two swinging shelves, or berths, besides, which are placed above the windows. Of course only three or four passengers can be accommodated in each compartment. There is no ventilation except at the windows; and if a Russian cannot sleep, he lights a paper cigar every half hour, while a dozen others may be smoking in their seats. There are conveniences at each end of the car, which are hardly to be found on the trains of any other country in Europe.
The first-class sleeping-car is precisely like the second, except that it is fitted up in a little better style. The train also includes other carriages, some like those in common use on the continent, and one or two quite different. In one first-class there were two apartments, one at each end, with seats at the sides, and containing a table for card-playing. These rooms are sold at one hundred rubles the trip, whether occupied by one or a dozen persons, for they will seat sixteen. Between these apartments is one for general use, fitted up with stuffed arm-chairs. When the private apartments are not taken by parties, a ruble or two, given to the conductor, will procure admission to themafter the train has passed a certain station. The conductors generally speak German, and some of them French.
The doctor, Lincoln, Billy Bobstay, and Scott, took one of the compartments in the second-class sleeping-car. They made some comparisons between the vehicle and those in use at home, and wondered why the people of Europe insist upon making night travel by railroad as uncomfortable as possible. At half past two the train started, and the students were fully occupied for a time in observing the suburbs of the city; but in half an hour there was nothing to be seen but the low, level, marshy country, which is the same thing all the way to Moscow, with hardly anything to vary its monotony.
"We haven't seen any of the triumphal arches of St. Petersburg," said Dr. Winstock. "The Moscow Gate is one of them, and is a very elaborate work of art."
"Where is it?" asked Lincoln.
"On the road to Moscow, just outside of the city. It was erected in honor of the Russian armies that fought in Persia, Turkey, and Poland. The Triumphal Arch of Narva, on the road to the Baltic provinces, is also a beautiful work, and commemorates the victories of the Russian troops, who returned in 1815."
"There's a village," said Lincoln.
"I should think it was a collection of pigsties," added Scott.
The houses were of the rudest construction, and looked more like shanties than the abodes of human beings. They are built of logsgenerally, some hewn and others just as they fell, with roofs of boards, the ends in many instances not squared. There was nothing like order in their location. After running over two hours the train stopped at a station. Like all the others on the road, it was a large and substantial brick structure, with everything about it kept in good condition.
The trains stop from ten minutes to half an hour at these stations, and most of the students got out of the cars, anxious to see what they could of the place and the people. The principal room was a large hall, in which was a table set for meals. At one end was a bar, and in other places were minor stands for other refreshments. One was for dispensing tea, which may be said to be the national beverage of the Russians, though they drinkvodka—a strong liquor, not unlike thefinkelof the Swedes—to excess. A woman usually serves the tea in the station. In front of her is an array of tumblers, in which the people drink their tea, with a bowl filled with square lumps of sugar. Little pitchers of milk are available, but the Russians seldom use this article. There is also a plate of thinly sliced lemons. The traveller takes one of the glasses, puts about three lumps of sugar in it, and the woman fills it with the beverage, upon which is placed a slice of lemon. The tea is quite yellow, and its flavor is excellent. It is brought from China over land, and without doubt is the best to be had in Europe. The Russians drink their tea very hot, and in enormous quantities. In the course of his journey to Moscow, a passenger often drinks half a dozen glasses of strong tea before he goes to sleep, and then the mystery is, how hecan go to sleep at all. The lemon is not squeezed in the beverage, but is simply stirred about with the spoon. One not skilled in the art of tea-drinking would hardly know that the lemon had been added.
Coffee may be obtained at the same stand, but not one in twenty calls for it. The tables are well supplied, and excellent roast beef is served, with a variety of other simple dishes. At another station, similar to the first, the students had their supper, or more properly their dinner.
"Can we eat Russian provender?" asked Scott.
"Why not? It doesn't seem to be at all different from the diet of other Europeans. Here is roast beef, and there are veal cutlets. The bread, you perceive, is most excellent," replied Dr. Winstock. "Indeed, I think the whitest and best bread in Europe is to be had in Russia."
"But I had an idea that the Russians ate strange messes," added Scott.
"There are peculiarly Russian dishes, but you do not find them to any great extent in the restaurants on the railroads.Kvasis a beverage of fermented rye. From this they make an iced soup, into which they put meat, chopped herring, and cucumbers."
"Whew!" whistled Scott, as the party seated themselves at the table.
"They have cabbage soups and fish soups, which we should call chowder. The finest fish in Russia is the sterlet, which is very expensive. The poor people live on buckwheat and other coarse grains, and among themthe common dish is cabbage soup thickened with buckwheat or barley meal, with meat or fish when it can be afforded, which is not often among the poorest."
"I shouldn't like that kind of grub."
"Probably not; but you need not starve while you can get roast beef as good as this, though it is a little tough."
"No, sir; but I should starve on another article I see here; that is,caviar—the abominable fish spawn. I tried it in Sweden, and didn't get the taste of it out of my mouth for three weeks."
"Yet it is esteemed a great delicacy in this country, and many foreigners so regard it."
"Their mouths and stomachs must be lined with cast-iron," laughed Scott.
The party returned to the train, and the journey was continued. The country was still level, with hardly anything like a hill to be seen. Much of it was covered with pine and birch wood. A village of shanties was occasionally passed, and around it were fields of grain, but there were no fences. The view from the windows of the cars was ever the same, and the travellers were soon weary of it. Scott wandered through the carriage to see the passengers, for a few Russians had taken places in it. He made a study of the conductor, who was certainly a fine-looking fellow. He wore a Cossack cap, a short frock coat with a belt, and large trousers stuffed into the top of his boots. At dark, which was late in the evening in this high latitude, nearly ten, the students tried to go to sleep, and most of them succeeded.
At five o'clock in the morning, nearly all of them were awake when thetrain stopped at Tver, which is the head of steamboat navigation on the Volga. Those who had their eyes open went into the station for a cup of coffee and a roll.
"Now's our time," said De Forrest, in a low tone, as he finished his coffee, and paid for it.
"What do you mean?" asked Beckwith, as he followed the purser to the rear of the station, where no one observed them.
"Have you pluck enough to go with me?" replied De Forrest.
"Go where?"
"Down the Volga."
"Run away?"
"Yes."
"I don't know about that. It is played out."
"No, it isn't. We can have a good time, and not be under the nose of any one. While the rest of them go to Moscow, we will go down to Nijni and Kazan."
"But I want to see Moscow."
"We will see that by and by. We will go down the river, and keep out of the way till all hands have returned to the ship. Then we will go it to Berlin or Warsaw."
"I haven't money enough to go such a trip."
"I will lend you some when you are short."
De Forrest argued the matter until Beckwith yielded the point, but rather reluctantly. They wore their pea-jackets, and had their bags in their hands, for the purser said they would change their seats when they returned to the train. Retreating from the station, they kept out ofsight till the cars had started, and then hastened to find the steamer on the river. The captain was a Finn, and spoke a little English, so that they had no difficulty in obtaining tickets and places. As De Forrest had declared that they intended to change their places, the two students with whom they had occupied a compartment in the car, did not suspect that they had been left behind when the train moved off, and they were not missed till the party arrived at Moscow, at ten o'clock.
The students piled into the droskies,—two on the seat, and one with the driver,—and were driven to the Hôtel d'Hambourg, which is kept by Madame Billet, an English lady, in the Rue Lubianka, near the centre of the city. The lady proprietor is a most excellent woman, very attentive to her guests, able and willing to give all needed information in regard to the city. Either she or her charming sister presides at the table, and to an American or an Englishman there is no more home-like establishment on the continent. When the roll of the first division was called, in assigning rooms to the party, the absence of De Forrest and Beckwith was discovered; but it was not supposed that they had absconded, and a servant was sent back to the station to find them. The chaplain was very much troubled; but the surgeon assured him that no possible harm could have come to the absentees.
Lincoln, Scott, and Billy Bobstay were assigned to one room. It was in no respect different from a chamber in an English hotel, except that a large stove or furnace was set in the wall, the fire-door opening into the hall. Every room was provided with this heating apparatus. Havingarranged their toilets, the party gathered again in the coffee-room for breakfast. The meal was in English style, consisting of cold tongue, cold chicken, and capital coffee. When it was finished, Dr. Winstock gave a brief description and historical account of Moscow.
"Moscow was until 1720 the capital of the Russian empire," said he. "This part of it was called Muscovy, and came to include Novgorod and Tver, the two provinces, or governments, through which we passed in coming from St. Petersburg. What is called Great Russia comprises sixteen governments, among which are nearly all the ancient grand dukedoms. It was founded in the middle of the twelfth century, and was taken and plundered by Tamerlane in the fourteenth century; nearly consumed by fire in 1536, and again in 1572, when it was fired by the Tartars, and one hundred thousand people perished in the flames and by the sword; the Poles fired it in 1611, and in 1812 it was burned by the Russians to prevent the French from wintering in it. Moscow is the Holy City of the Russians. It is a place of great commercial importance, having a vast trade, extending into Asia, and it is also a large manufacturing place. The emperors are crowned here, and on account of its holy character and sacred associations, no Czar would dare to neglect at least a semiannual visit; and custom requires that he should present his oldest son and heir in this city soon after he becomes of age.
"Moscow is one of the most irregularly built cities in the world. The Kremlin is in the centre. Half a mile from it there is a series of streets nearly encircling it, on the site of which was formerly themoat of the castle. A mile and a half distant there is another series of avenues, which form a complete circle. Within this line the map of the city looks very much like a well-constructed cobweb; but the town extends far beyond this line, and has a circumference of twenty miles. The Moscow river, a branch of the Oka, runs through the city, with a great bend extending up to the Kremlin."
"What is the Kremlin, sir?" asked a student.
"It was originally the citadel or fortress of the city. It was first enclosed with oak walls, and afterwards with stone. It is in the form of a triangle, with a perimeter of about a mile, and contains the palace, the holiest churches, and many other public buildings. Moscow has between three and four hundred churches, the number being variously estimated, for some writers include several in one establishment, while others count all as one. A monastery may have two or three churches within its walls. Now we will walk to the Kremlin, and ascend the Tower of Ivan Veliki, or John the Great, from which you will obtain a fine view of the whole city."
In Moscow it is difficult, if not impossible, to obtain a guide who speaks English; but a German was procured, and the students left the hotel under his direction. The walk through the streets was full of interest, and there was no lack of variety. There is not a straight avenue in the city, and there seems to be no fixed line upon which the houses are erected. Now the street is narrow, and then it suddenly doubles its width for a short distance, and some of them are nearly in the shape of a wedge. They twist about even worse than in Boston, wherethe tradition is that the early fathers followed the cow-paths when they laid out the streets. They are paved with irregular stones, and there seem to be no particular localities in which the wealthier class erect their elegant residences, for next to a lofty and beautiful mansion may be the humble low house of the poor man. The buildings are painted or colored in nearly all the hues of the rainbow.
One cannot walk far without coming to a church, either small or large, and at least a dozen domes are always in sight—gold, green, and blue. The signs in the streets, too, are peculiar, and more intelligible than in most Russian cities, for pictorial effects seem to be the fashion, and the butcher, baker, grocer, and other merchants cover all the available space in front of their shops with representations of their various wares.
In many of the open spaces there are drosky stands and several new varieties of carriages were presented to the students. Most of the droskies have hoods, or covers, like a chaise, and are wider than those of St. Petersburg. One kind of vehicle consists of a board, covered and stuffed, extending from the forward to the hind axletree. The drivers are dressed as in other Russian cities, and carry their white gloves, while waiting for a job, in their belt. These men are very polite, and take off their hats when they solicit employment.
"There is the Kremlin," said the doctor, as he pointed to the high walls, upon which, at intervals are several elaborate towers. "You will enter by the 'Sacred Gate,' or 'Porta Triumphalis.' Be sure and take off your caps, and do not put them on till you have passed entirelythrough the archway."
This opening was under a Gothic tower, and is sometimes called the "Redeemer's Gate," from the picture of the Redeemer, of Smolensk, which is placed above it. It is held in the highest reverence by the Russians, who believe that the Tartars were driven back by it, and that miraculous clouds concealed the defenders of the fortress, who sought its protection from the eyes of the enemy. It is in a glass case, and a huge lamp, raised and lowered by a large chain over a pulley, is always burning before it. It is said that the French, supposing the frame to be of gold, wished to plunder it, but every ladder planted beneath instantly broke in twain. The invaders then loaded a cannon to batter down the wall, but the powder would not burn till they made a great fire of coals over the vent, and then it went off the wrong way, blowing out the breech of the gun, and killing some of the artillerists. The Frenchmen then acknowledged the miraculous character of the picture, and retired, leaving it unharmed. It was borne in the battle-field by the armies of Pojarski, and the Poles fled before it. On account of the signal service it has thus rendered, every one must bare his head as he passes through the gate, be he Czar or peasant, Greek or Christian. At the entrance stood a soldier with a drawn sabre in his hand, who enforced this behest of custom. Umbrellas must be closed, and care is taken to prevent dogs from entering the enclosure by this gate. The students uncovered, and passed through. The Russians bowed, knelt, and crossed themselves repeatedly, as they did so.