More on Siberian-bound convicts; Rev. Baird describes their crimes

Rev. Robert Baird, temperance campaigner 

The wagons now brought up the rear of the band, and to the sound of a military drum, these poor creatures commenced their march to a place from which the majority were never to return.  We saw them leave, surrounded by his Majesty’s   [31] troops, and long after they had departed we could hear the clanking of their chains which made a proper accompaniment to their helpless march.-----I met on this ground the Rev^d Mr Baird of Paris, and he gave us some of the various crimes—among them we saw some few in other respects like their fellows excepting their chains, and these we were told were Nobles, a singular distinction made for their stile.   There were some few in this band who were convicted of murder, but the majority were sentenced for some trivial offence, a petty theft, or an attempt to rebel against some demand of their owners.  These latter were sent to what is called the nearer Siberia for colonizing, and the former to the mines.  

Convicts destined for Siberia

Turning from our view of the city & the thoughts occasioned by it, of its former history, we [28] passed a short distance to the right to a building guarded by [Sentinels?], not looking much like a prison though strongly barred with iron.  We arrived a few moments before the prisoners were brought out, and leaving our carriage, stationed ourselves before the main gate of the building in front of a number of troops formed in a square waiting for the appearance & purpose of conducting & guarding the Convicts.  In a few moments, the gate was opened and we heard the voice of the officer on duty call out a name, and out stepped one of the unfortunate beings destined to spend the remainder of his days as a prisoner in Siberia.  He was dressed as well as his fellows in the Convict’s dress of a mixed home-spun cloth, making a cloak & pants and a pair of boots.  One half of his head [29] was shaved making his appearance singular indeed, whilst the other half of his head was, au naturel.  He had an iron chain fastened to either ancle, and kept suspended, (so as not to interfere with his walking) by a belt tied around his waist.  In this manner were some eighty-odd of these beings dressed preparatory to their weary journey from Moscow.  Amongst these we now and then saw a female, some as convicts and others following their husbands to their place of Banishment.  In front of the band ranged out in order, stood an old man with a plate in his hand collecting some small favors from the few spectators and officers standing about .The gate was now opened wide and out drove some half dozen wagons with luggage and those convicts who were too [30] old or too infirm to walk this six week journey. Here and there you could see a little baby in the arms of its mother, unconscious of course of its destination & future life.  There was an old woman in one of the wagons whose countenance I think I shall never forget.  She must have been near seventy years of age as dark as a Bohemian who was sitting beside her, and as she left the gates of the prison, her face expressed more than words could ever do; before her was an old man probably her husband and she was casting her lot still with him..  

Napoleon's Moscow

One Evening at Moscow we took a short drive out on the road by which Napoleon entered the City.  There is an Eminence at a short distance from the City, which [27] would shut out the view of Moscow from one approaching it from the opposite side.  Was this that the great personification of Ambition, of good & bad deeds, after leading his weary soldiers through the snows of Russia, harassed on all sides by the waiting Cossacks, first saw the end of his journey, and how taking up a handful of the Earth, turned to his followers and cheered them wit the words which in his mouth seemed almost equivalent to Victory “Voici la terre de Moscou.”  A few days afterwards and this great army left the place of their destination, a broken band and Napoleon wended his way to Paris, his confidence in his Omnipotence somewhat reduced from the place where he put it---- 

Moscow truly foreign--the city after the fire of 1812

The burning of Moscow

Our driver brought us to the top of an elevated piece of ground when we turned and beheld the city at our feet, the Moskva winding through the city and [26] losing itself on our left in the midst of a pretty country for this part of the world.  I have been so long away from home, and have been so accustomed to visiting new places, and considering them for the time being as my real home, that people and places now remind me of really being as far distant from my native land as I naturally am, but looking at Moscow from this height I was forced to think that I was truly in a foreign land.  All that I had heretofore viewed had been European (so to speak), modern—in fact in some degree like America, but this was new.  I beheld before me that which I had before seen in imagination only, and [illeg.] to myself as Asiatic, Oriental, in the times of the Caliph, in fact as something which belonged to another race of people.  Moscow of course is in a great degree modern as regards its’ buildings, yet when its Churches [26] & Mosques were burned as well as its private residences, in 1812, they have generally been rebuilt after the same models, and though often new in materials, are old in style.  This burning of Moscow has of late caused many words pro & con.  As regards the Great Conqueror who here first felt himself somewhat at least subdued, the Russians themselves universally deny the charge of having fired the City & place the fact upon the Soldiers of Napoleon.  By so doing I must say I think they destroy much of the romance of history attributing the deed to their determination, that if the Emperor entered Moscow that he should do so after its glory had departed.  

The view of Moscow from Sparrow Hills (Воробьёвы го́ры)

View of Moscow from Sparrow Hills - Ivan Aivazovsky, 1848

It was three o’clock on Sunday morning that we stopped before the gates of Moscow and in the course of an hour afterward enjoying ourselves most luxuriantly in a place where we could kick an English bed, at W. Howards, the best hotel in Moscow (said to be so at least—though ‘tis making the others out to be most villainous.  ‘tis kept by an Englishman & wife, and a more parsimonious old couple I never want to see in the shape of Host & Hostess, however I have finished with them).  We arrived on Sunday Morning [24] greatly refreshed, and determined as soon as possible to finish our signt seeing in order to be again at the Capital for the Fête. Sundays in Russia are the same as in France, little or no distinction is made from other days. ---We took a carriage and four horses, abreast as usual (no carriage will leave the city with less than four horses), in order to go out to what is called Sparrow Hills, where we should be able to obtain a fine view of Moscow & also see the poor Convicts depart in chains for their long march to Siberia.  There is no English church we were told in Moscow, and in driving through the city we scarcely saw an English face, though I believe there are many there as in every city of the World.   And now we obtained the first view of the city of Mosques, and Tartars.  It was so late the previous evening when we arrived that one could get no view of it [25] all in passing through its streets, some here and there, some silvered dome would glisten in the starlight, and some tall steeple would shew itself from amidst the surrounding buildings.  Moscow is the most singular city in Europe—perfectly Oriental in its appearance, and carrying on at once to the times of the Prophet. Mosques, domes, minarets, & spires are on every side of you.  Look where you will and your eye will rest upon some edifice of worship called by what term you will presenting its half-a-dozen spires or domes, gilded, silvered, or spangled,  or of a deep blue, now a green and then one burnished like gold, the Greek Cross surmounting all, with here and there the Turkish Crescent beneath the cross.

The Greek Church

Though such wild furious looking fellows, they are said to be very harmless, and as I can say from experience are most strangely polite to every one.  In their small log villages you may see a crowd standing lazily about, and another of their acquaintance coming up on his dirty sheep skin is received by them all, with uncovered heads in fact as polite as a Frenchman.  In these poor starving towns, with no building there better than a dirty log hut, you universally on this route find one or more really noble looking churches and mosques.  In this part of Russia, as in Moscow they have copied the houses of worship from the Turks, and their church is generally formed like a mosque, with its half-a dozen colored & spangled [22] domes and minarets.  In the Greek Church, in most respects just like the Catholic, there is apparently much more superstition than in the Roman—certainly true in the lower classes of Society, or I should say life [?].  The people seem  completely devoted to the forms at least of religion. It is one canon of the Greek church to admit no images into their churches, yet walk into them and you will find them filled with pictures, of Saints, Madonnas, Christs, & yet almost universally with the bodies of the figures covered with silver or gold leaving the head, hands & feet only visible, and before one of these virgins, you will see some sheep-skin-clad serf placing his penny candle and prostrating his body ‘till his forehead touches the pavement, rising and crossing himself for an half hour at a time without cessation, and all the while muttering over some form of prayer to the Holy Mother, or other saint whose likeness [23] is before him.  As far as I can judge they are as much worshippers of idols as the Heathen of old.  You cannot in St Pg or in fact in any part of the Empire pass a church without seeing before it every minute of the day some one stopping taking off his hat and crossing himself frequently and apparently & I believe sincerely devoutfully and then going on his way.

A disturbing episode: "the privilege of whipping"

One sees scarcely any people on the whole route to Moscow but these poor devils, their villages being about 20 versts apart, and built of logs.  The houses though are generally well put together, and look as if they might be made comfortable.  Nothing of any interest occurred on our route to Moscow which took us some 84 hours to accomplish, if I except a scene that took place one night which showed us how these serfs are treated sometimes.  I will not say it is general though I am informed that  there are some people who have the privilege of whipping them without being called to a/c [account].  After taking our dinner [illeg.] ourselves, quite late one evening (near midnight) on leaving the house we found ten men lying upon the bare ground, the weather being very cold, with nothing but their usual dress upon them, which consists of a low, belt-crowned hat (usually covered with buckles), a whole sheep-[19]skin formed into a sort of frock, in fair weather worn with the wool next the skin (literally) and in foul weather turned inside out, having under this sheepskin (said to be handed down from Father to Son) a calico-dicky (such as found as the boys in America often wear) covering the chest only and in some instances a pair of blue calico pants, and a huge pair of boots. We saw these poor fellows lying upon the cold pavement, of rough stones of a Russian night in September. We left them to their dreams and got into our Carriage, and composed ourselves for sleep, out of which we were shortly aroused by the horses stopping and an altercation taking place between our guard and the driver, who as always is the case was a serf.  I looked out the window and could not at first understand the cause of the noise and we all thought that someone on the road had stopped us for some purpose or other.  I immediately got out followed by Hancock [20] and was just in time to see our guard strike the driver a terribly severe blow full in the face, and then throwing him down beat him worse than if he were a dog.  Not understanding the language I could not discover the cuase of the row, and we thought it best not to interfere, however waiting some little time we caused the guard to desist.  When the driver rose, and attempted to walk away, the guard now took away his whip and belaboured him diligently with it he compelled him to mount his seat, and drive us forwards.  I should have thought that any [being?] that had life would have attempted to defend himself, but this poor brute stoodstill and said little or nothing.  He may have been drunk for all that I know to the contrary and deserved it, but I am confident that if one of our negroes had been known to have been so terribly beaten by his owner as was this poor fellow—every [21] paper in the Union would call the man a brute.  I almost expected to hear on our return that the fellow was dead, but if not ‘twas his Russian head that alone saved him. 

On to Moscow; Russian serfs

We of course had the privilege, being in our new Carriage, of stopping where & when we pleased, but no one thinks of sleeping in a Russian Hotel, they being almost universally filled with fleas & vermin. The Inns on this road furnish very good meals however, being kept principally by Germans.  Fortifying ourselves, with some bottles of wine (the water here is almost death to a stranger) a written vocabulary of what Russian we might need on the journey, expressed however in English characters, & for [attempting?] pronunciation (for a man to speak Russian well he must first have one of his jaws broken) and a good stock of patience.  We entered the Diligence which was to be our house for some eighty odd hours as it proved to be.  We had a lady in the party which tended [17] somewhat to make us a little more pleased with the trip.  Our horses (four in number[)] were all abreast, miserable looking beasts truly, and miserably harnessed; but able to go ahead, when urged on by the blows and cries of a Russian Muzhik—their serfs (of whom there are under the dominion of the Emperor 36,000,000 out of 56,000,000 inhabitants) and worse absolutely than our blacks, the only advantage that they have over our blacks being that they cannot be sold, only with the estate to which they belong.  They however are liable to be drawn for soldiers whenever the Emperor wants them, and every owner must furnish his quota.  They certainly approach nearer to brutes than any human beings I have ever seen, /their faces consequently are covered with hair as far as their faces are concerned, and the back part of their head, from their neck upwards is shaved close for the space of an inch or two, and the hair behind cut perfectly square, giving them a [18] very outré appearance. 

Preparing for Moscow

We have now been hesitating for some time as regards taking a trip to Moscow, and have now finally concluded on starting immediately hoping to be able to return in time to witness the Entry of his Majesty [Emperor Nicholas I]  into the Capital, but it is so undecided and he is so fond of taking the people by surprise, that no one knows when it will take place, and it is useless for us to wait much longer, as the season [15] is getting to be so late, that if deferred we should be obliged to give up the trip altogether.  Orders have been given by the Police to every household to keep themselves in readiness for an illumination at any moment.  Have been to the Chancery Office where we were again examined as usual, and given a paper allowing us by presenting it at the Police office, to obtain a fresh passport for Moscow, presented ourselves at the Police Office General, and after again answering all the questions once again, and paying twenty-five paper roubles, &c, about five dollars.  We obtained a pass for Moscow, the Police retaining our original Passports until we may leave the Empire.  Four of us in Company (Americans) obtained a Diligence and guard and at 2 o’clock P.M. of Wednesday 16 Sep we started for the city of Moscow.  The road is the only good one in all Russia, being McAdamized its entire length which is here measured by Versts, the Verst being equal to about ¾ of a Mile English. [16]  The distance between the cities is some 670 Versts making about 500 miles, and this was to be accomplished without our stopping at all on the road excepting for Breakfast & Dinner.

A visit to the French Theater

Visited the French Theater, this Evening, and I must say that I have never seen any thing so well arranged in any other city.  There is not a column to be found sup-[15]porting the boxes giving a very light and open appearance to the whole.  The boxes are lined with crimson velvet, and containing chairs for each person.  The pit, also as generally in Europe, being quite fashionable, is filled with chairs, so that no one is crowded.  I have never seen such order & silence in the first theaters of Paris as is here observed.  One would almost think himself in church.  Every thing being so admirably conducted, the performance was very good and the company large.  The upper classes of the Russians generally speak in French.

Mikhailovsky Theater (1860)

Admiralty Square and the equestrian statue of Peter the Great

The Admiralty, designed by Adrian Zakharov (viewed in 1996)

The City is truly on a grand scale and presents a bold and handsome appearance, every house in it being [white?] I believe with the exception of the palace. The Admiralty occupies the whole of an immense square and is a very regular and handsomely built edifice, larger I should suppose than any other one building in Petersburg. [14] Our part of the Admiralty faces a large & fair open square. (Most villainously paved however) with the Senate and Synod houses on the opposite side, the third side being formed by the River and the fourth by a very fine church now being built, and intending to rival the largest churches on the Continent. In the center of this square stands the celebrated bronze Equestrian statue to Peter the Great, raised to him by Catherine Secunda.  It is the largest of the kind I have yet seen and most admirably executed, possessing a very bold and Warlike.  Peter is represented as on horseback, his horse’s hoof at the same time crushing a serpent.  Unlike other statues of the kind generally, the horse is standing on his hind legs solely, with his body very much raised – consequently requiring an immense weight in the after part of the body.