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Title: Russian life and society as seen in 1866-'67
by Appleton and Longfellow, two young travellers from the United States of America, who had been officers in the Union army, and a journey to Russia with General Banks in 1869. With sketches of Alexander II. and Abraham Lincoln, and emancipation in the empire of Russia and the republic of the United States of America.
Author: Nathan Appleton
Release date: August 5, 2026 [eBook #79273]
Language: English
Original publication: Boston: Press of Murray and Emery Company, 1904
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/79273
Credits: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUSSIAN LIFE AND SOCIETY AS SEEN IN 1866-'67 ***
RUSSIAN LIFE AND SOCIETY.
[Illustration: Longfellow and Appleton]
RUSSIAN LIFE AND SOCIETY
AS SEEN IN 1866-’67 BY APPLETON AND LONGFELLOW, TWO YOUNG TRAVELLERS
FROM THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, WHO HAD BEEN OFFICERS IN THE UNION
ARMY, AND A JOURNEY TO RUSSIA WITH GENERAL BANKS IN 1869.
[Illustration: An ornamental monogram of the letters "NA" enclosed
within a decorative shield-shaped frame.]
WITH SKETCHES OF ALEXANDER II. AND ABRAHAM LINCOLN, AND EMANCIPATION IN
THE EMPIRE OF RUSSIA AND THE REPUBLIC OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
PREPARED BY
BREVET CAPTAIN NATHAN APPLETON
AUTHOR OF
“HARVARD COLLEGE DURING THE WAR.”
BOSTON, 1904.
Copyright, 1904
BY NATHAN APPLETON.
(_All Rights Reserved._)
Press of Murray and Emery Company Boston, Massachusetts
TO
PRINCESS J—— G——
IN PLEASANT RECOLLECTION OF SKATING AT MOSCOW. JANUARY, 1867, THIS BOOK
IS DEDICATED BY
THE AUTHOR
BOSTON, 1904.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER FIRST
PAGE
Arrival in Paris and Adieu. The Yacht Alice 9
CHAPTER SECOND
Lincoln and Emancipation 43
CHAPTER THIRD
Brussels, Berlin, Königsburg, Wilna 68
CHAPTER FOURTH
St. Petersburg. Tsar Alexander II., Gortschakoff, Cronstadt 81
CHAPTER FIFTH
Moscow. The City and Environs. Trotting in Russia 100
CHAPTER SIXTH
St. Petersburg. The Neva. Novgorod. Poland 133
CHAPTER SEVENTH
Charles Appleton Longfellow 156
CHAPTER EIGHTH
France. Last Days of the Empire. To Russia with Gen. Banks 160
CHAPTER NINTH
Alexander II. and Emancipation 184
CHAPTER TENTH
Europe and America in 1870. Demetrius Goubareff. Russia and the
United States 207
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Longfellow and Appleton _Frontispiece._
OP. PAGE
Yacht Alice, Cowes, I. W., 1866 18
Captain, Passengers and Crew of the Alice 19
Rue de la Paix, à Paris 24
Gentlemen Riders of the Newport Race 31
Troika 38
Abraham Lincoln 43
Wilna 68
Statue of Kant, Königsburg, 1866 73
Single Sleigh 74
Nevski Prospect, St. Petersburg 81
Hon. Cassius M. Clay, Minister to Russia 82
Bolshaja Morskaja (Great Sea Street) 86
Christmas Shopping in St. Petersburg 87
The Kremlin, Moscow 100
Drinking Tea 105
A Coursier 110
The Staigg Portrait 117
Rosalie 125
The Blessing of the Neva 133
The Midnight Drive 140
Skating in the Yousoupoff Garden 141
Circassian Uniform 142
Sledge Drawn by Reindeer 151
Drosky 153
Charles Appleton Longfellow 156
Hon. Nathaniel P. Banks, Representative from
Massachusetts 160
Ferdinand de Lesseps 179
Alexander II., 1866 184
Odessa, 1899 207
Port Said. Opening of the Suez Canal 225
RUSSIAN LIFE AND SOCIETY
CHAPTER FIRST.
ARRIVAL IN PARIS AND ADIEU. THE YACHT ALICE.
“Our trusty friend, our true ally
Through varied change and chance:
So fill your flashing goblets high,
I give you, vive la France.”
—_Oliver Wendell Holmes._
I sailed from New York early in October, 1866, in the French line
steamer _Ville de Paris_, Captain Surmont. Time about eleven days to
Brest. Cloudy weather, and the last four or five days no observation, so
one morning we found ourselves near the Scilly Islands, and from there
steamed over to Brest, arriving in the afternoon. I had a room with
Frank Burgess of Boston, whom I then knew but slightly, and, as we found
that we liked each other and had the same objects in view at Paris, we
went there and took rooms together at the Hotel de la Paix, since torn
down for the Place du Nouvel Opera, corner Rue de la Paix and the
Boulevard. The month I passed there until going to Russia was one of my
liveliest and pleasantest in Paris.
The voyage across the ocean was the same old story so often and often
described. There was the same queer medley of passengers as always, and
they told the same stories they always do, and passed their time in the
same old way. There was the knowing Yankee buyer, going on his hurried
autumn business tour through Europe, who gave every one to understand
that this was his forty-seventh voyage across the Atlantic, and that he
knew pretty well how to take care of himself. He had been in nearly
every steamship of every line between Europe and America, and gave
advice freely as to their relative merits. He always could tell the
exact position of the ship, in fog or shine, better than the Captain
himself, and was most active in getting up, every day after lunch, pools
on the ship’s run, after which he would rush about making his “book,”
buying and selling tickets to increase his chances of winning.
Then there was the jolly _paterfamilias_, who had been passing the last
four months at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, looking after his investments,
and was now returning, to join his family who were living in Paris, and
who would gladly welcome him and his full purse. He was always around,
and very attentive to and a great favorite with the ladies, young and
old.
There was the same group of Cubans smoking cigarettes and talking
Spanish together with wild gesticulations, but keeping aloof from the
other passengers. And, oh! the pretty French actress, returning for the
winter season in Paris at the Folies Dramatiques or the Palais Royal,
fresh from the applause and bouquets in New York, Chicago and San
Francisco. She was dark, she was petite, she had arched eyebrows and the
slightest touch of paint under her sparkling orbs. She never appeared on
deck until near dinner time and then in a lovely toilette, as if she
were just going to take a drive at the Bois. And how at the concert,
organized a few nights before sighting the coast of _la belle_ France,
she charmed all as she sang some of her opera bouffe songs.
Of course the precocious youth was aboard, going out for the fourth time
to see the Coliseum, and what wonderful information he imparted to such
listeners as he could get. When the wind was aft he assured you that the
boat was making at least fifteen knots, and that we should arrive at
Brest in time to take the eight o’clock train for Paris; then, again,
when the wind was dead ahead he consoled you with the thought that it
made the fires draw well, which was a good thing; but if it struck the
boat on either beam he could conclusively prove that the sails being
well filled the steamer was steady in her movements, which, after all,
was better than rolling about too fast. If it chanced to rain he cheered
the disconsolate passengers by stating that it would help beat down the
waves and make the sea less rough! Every day, too, he seemed to
think,—nor did he keep this sagacious thought to himself,—lightened the
ship of so much coal, and then as for the advantages of fogs or
icebergs, no possible question on the subject could puzzle him.
Pretty girls flitted here and there, or were spread out in their chairs
and looked uncomfortable. “Swells” gloomily lounged around: enthusiastic
young travellers were always on hand at everything which turned up in
the ship’s management, especially the throwing the log and taking the
observations, as if determined at the outset to lose none of their
money’s worth of sight-seeing.
A clever lady from Washington was always posed in a corner of the
saloon, a half read novel in hand, her _flacon_ and fan on either side,
and she herself happy at any time, morning, afternoon or evening, to
enter with you into a long conversation on any subject.
A French priest and a Western parson kept theology well argued as an
appetizer for your meals, while in the smoking room the poker party was
going on all through the voyage with scarcely an intermission.
The bluff old Captain was ever about with a pleasant smile and word for
all, inspiring those of whom he was the ten-day autocrat, with a feeling
of security by his own solid and comfortable appearance.
A system for passing the time on shipboard I found worked very well, and
I am only too glad to recommend it to any who choose to try it for
themselves.
Take your coffee about nine in bed in your state room propped up with
numerous pillows, then go through the operation of being shaved if the
offices of a Figaro are required, who may be one of the ship’s stewards.
After this a couple of hours or so may be passed in reading, and for
this a selection of a dozen books or so you may have had placed on the
shelf over your couch, so that you can choose any one which happens to
suit your mood, or, scratch off your thoughts on a block of paper,
always to be carried on your travels, thus taking down rambling notes
where-ever you go. Rising about half an hour before lunch time, you get
up an appetite by sniffing the sea air and chatting with those who are
about. Next comes lunch itself, an important item in the day, which with
its subsequent cigar or pipe can be made to dispose of nearly two hours.
Then approaches the toughest part of the twenty-four portions into which
day and night are subdivided, the time between lunch and dinner. A hand
at poker or _vingt-et-un_ helps it along, a conversation with some fair
one in that favorite spot behind the wheelhouse is a powerful auxiliary,
and, if nothing else turns up, a lazy novel or a siesta would annihilate
the moments until the first bell ringing gives the welcome intimation
that the time for toilette is at hand.
Dinner, with or without appetite it makes no difference for go through
the form of remaining at table you must, would next take its regular
place in the programme, and that and a cigar well over and digested, you
are ready to sit down to your evening party of whist. Than this there is
no better recreation for passing the hours after dark, and the selection
of a good set of players at an early stage of the voyage is an important
and not to be neglected duty. Is it not probable that the great
Talleyrand, when he advised the young man to learn thoroughly this king
of games at cards out of regard for his declining years, remembered with
pleasure the hours he had thus passed in his journeys by water? So the
evening goes along, the ladies retire, the lights are put out in the
saloon, and the male portion of the community is free to take possession
of the smoking room, there to sit well into the night and to recount
story after story.
It was thus we existed the ten days of our passage, making pleasant
acquaintances in that free offhand way which gives no binding claim for
future continuance. You meet, you take each other for what you are
worth, you separate, it may be to see each other again some time, it may
be never, and intimacies under such circumstances are quickly formed,
and as quickly forgotten.
Before we were well aware of it, so speedily the last days on the ocean
flew by, all the passengers being well and overflowing with good
spirits, the bright coast of France loomed up before our eyes in the
distance, the green fields could almost be scented afar off, and there
was bustle and activity in the _Ville de Paris_. Trunks were being
brought up, and people who did not in the least care for each other were
saying good by a dozen times.
Down goes the anchor with a plunge, the quai at Brest is swarming with
officials and idlers, all chattering like mad, the tug boat sweeps up
before the _douane_, we step ashore, and find ourselves in France.
GAY, GAY PARIS.
How the heart of the American beats with joy whenever he enters Paris,
that queen city of cities, which he regards as almost a second home,
feeling a genuine pride of possession in its beautiful monuments, its
long avenues, its brilliant fêtes, and all its institutions of
instruction and amusement. And cannot a probable reason why the American
takes to it so much more than to any other foreign city,—why the asphalt
of the boulevard is to him almost as dear as the flag-stones of
Broadway,—be found in the fact of the _real democracy_ of the _social
life_ in Paris and France? The government may be a despotism or a
revolution: the annoyances of bureaucracy and red tape are nowhere
greater than there; the petty details of business life amuse and vex
you, but in spite of all, the social life of the people, whether natives
or strangers, is as free as free can be, provided none of the laws of
the land are broken. You come, you go, you do this or you do that, you
can dine at one o’clock on beef and cabbage, or at seven on woodcock
with truffles; you can live in a palace or a _cinquième_; you can go to
the opera in evening dress or blouse; you can study medicine or you can
study pleasure; you can drive in a four-in-hand or in a fiacre; you can
do everything or nothing: whoever you are, or whatever your fortune may
be, no one will interfere; your eccentricities will cause little remark,
you will be unmolested, for all are too much occupied with themselves to
pay much attention to others, and you may be certain that, do your best
to astonish those about you, it will not be easy to offer them a new
sensation.
I had been there before,—this was my third voyage across the
Atlantic,—and had seen the guide-book sights of the city, and
congratulated myself heartily upon the accomplishment, for it was off my
mind and I would be spared from doing it now.
One is not likely to forget the sensations experienced during the long
drive from the railroad station to the hotel when first arriving at
Paris, especially if it be after dark, through the brilliantly lighted
streets, across the great squares, full as they always are of the gayest
hearted people in the world, with apparently nothing to do except treat
life as a continual holiday, and I went through it again with the
freshness of a first visit, as we were taken the distance which
separates the _Gare de l’Ouest_ from the Grand Hotel, at which place we
had decided to camp for the night, and leave hunting up some snug
apartment until the morrow. The clock was just striking nine as the
little omnibus came with a clatter and cracking of whip into the
spacious court-yard, and after supper and a short stroll on the
boulevard, I “turned in,” my imagination picturing in rose-colored
dreams all we would do and see.
A LETTER TO MY MOTHER.
Paris, October 22, 1866.
Dear Mamma:
My last note must, I think, have been rather unsatisfactory, and I
hasten to do amends with a longer one. The fact was that I arrived in
Paris at the Hotel just about half an hour before the French mail for
the Cunard steamer closed, and I had either to drop just one line to
announce my safe arrival or nothing at all. The voyage over was, like
all, very tedious, and we had pretty bad weather on the whole. Not
knowing where we were at length we ran into a light on the English
coast, and from there made our way down south to Brest, where I landed
and ran right up to Paris. I like the steamer better than the Cunard,
she is very fast, and is much more adapted to the comfort of a
gentleman, especially as there is a cozy little smoking room where you
could play whist in the evenings; also a barber’s shop, and the state
rooms are better arranged. I came up to Paris with Frank Burgess and
Maurice Le Ray (one of the Newport jockeys of the past summer, attaché
to the French legation at Washington, who was a passenger on the
steamer), and Burgess and I have taken some very nice rooms.
Yesterday morning Charlie Longfellow (Charles Appleton Longfellow,
late lieutenant in the 1st Mass. Cavalry, wounded at Mt. Hope Church,
Va., Nov. 27, 1863. He was the son of the poet Henry W. Longfellow,
who married my half-sister Frances, so was my half-nephew, a year and
some months younger than I), and Harry Stanfield tumbled in upon us,
as they had that very night come over from London, and they gave us
jolly accounts of the doings of the _Alice_ during the past summer.
Brother Tom (Thomas Gold Appleton) and Arthur Clark (Captain of the
_Alice_) sail for home the last of the month. Charlie likes the idea
of going off to Saint Petersburg by and by, so as to get there in the
height of the winter, which time they say is really the best to see
the place, but he wants to stay here a while to brush up his French.
So I think I shall be quartered in Paris for some little time, perhaps
a month, and pitch right into the study of French, and then start off
with him for the cold regions of Europe.
Tuesday: After writing thus much yesterday I went round to the bank
(Bowles, Drevet & Cie at that time 24 Rue de la Paix) where I found
your letter awaiting me, and I must say that considering you had only
two or three days you have managed to pick up a vast amount of
interesting items. The first Bostonian I met was Hollis Hunnewell. I
have seen my classmates (at Harvard) (Charles C.) Jackson and (Frank
L.) Higginson, and yesterday I called on the Harry Sargents. The
weather is charming now, just right for driving about, and I hope it
will continue so for a month, when we ought to expect the drizzly
rains which will drive me off. There are so many from the “Hub” here
now that Brother Tom’s last _bon mot_ is said to be “All Parisians are
Bostonians.”
Au revoir.
Nate.
THE YACHT ALICE.
The sloop yacht _Alice_ was owned by Thomas Gold Appleton. She was about
fifty feet in length and was built by Townsend at Portsmouth, R. I., in
1866. When last heard from she was a trader off the coast of Maine.
The _Alice_ left Nahant July 12, 1866, arrived at the Needles July 30th,
and Cowes Roads July 31st. It was a remarkable trip and faster than that
of any kind of vessel made across the Atlantic ocean with the then time
allowance.
Captain Arthur H. Clark was in command, and she carried Charles A.
Longfellow, the owner’s nephew, Harry Stanfield, a crew of three men and
a Chinese steward. The owner, then fifty-four years old, crossed in the
Cunarder _China_, and, joining the _Alice_ at Cowes, cruised off the
French coast and the Channel islands, see _A Cruise of the Alice_ in _A
Sheaf of Papers_, by T. G. Appleton, 1875.
One of the first business despatches sent by the cable across the
Atlantic, the _Great Eastern_ having successfully landed the cable at
Newfoundland on July 27, 1866, was the safe arrival of the _Alice_, by
C. A. Longfellow.
The owner thus addresses the beautiful yacht in his collection of poems
called _Faded Leaves_:
[Illustration:
YACHT ALICE.
]
“Away! the cloven waves unite
Behind in murmuring braids of snow,
And seething whispers of delight,
As through the glassy fields we go;
And curtseying with a grace her own
Her bows of beauty in reply,
The white-winged creature moves alone,
Swan-like between the wave and sky.
· · · · ·
Farewell, dear friend, my floating home;
A menacing finger in the sky
Bids us through summer seas to roam
No more, and from harsh winters fly.
Sleep! dreaming of the violet deep,
And think of us and happy hours,
While we through icy nights shall keep
Thoughts of the sails that once were ours.”
[Illustration:
CAPTAIN, PASSENGERS AND CREW OF THE ALICE.
]
The yacht wintered at Cowes and was brought back the next spring.
FROM BROTHER TOM IN LONDON.
Many thanks, my dear Naty, for your letter and the one enclosed. I
would have been sorry to have missed it, as it is from an old friend,
and in peculiar circumstances, and it would not have been well to have
the letter go astray. And thanks for yours, too, though only
announcing your arrival, and a sketch of your plans. You will do well
to take Charlie and Harry if they will go, and in the winter Saint
Petersburg must be fine, though after all not much beyond in cold
splendor dear old Boston. I am reading a new book on Russia, by Henry
Morley, and find much in it interesting. Today is so dark no one is
up, and I am writing alone.... Who should be here but Townsend, my
boat builder. He could not be quiet, hearing so much of the _Alice_.
Tell Charlie he has gone to Cowes. Don’t you wish you loved yachting,
and could have had the nice time we have had? It beats fancy wagons
and top boots, I assure you.
Remember me to Charlie and Harry and bid them take care and be prudent
and get into no scrapes.
Farewell and prosper, and do not leave your whiskers in the snows of
Russia.
Yr. aff. brother, T. G. Appleton.
Charing X Hotel, 25th October.
To my mother I wrote again from Paris, October 26, 1866, Friday:—
I give you a short letter now which will make two for this week,
enough certainly to satisfy the most rapacious of mothers! I have got
pretty well settled into my life here now, of which one very important
object is the study of French. I take a lesson every morning from a
very good teacher, and go to a theatre most every evening, and I think
I shall make rapid progress, in fact, as we ought to know a good deal
before starting for Russia, it is advantageous to stay here a month
and pitch into it. I have got quite a nice little French phaeton, with
which I can rattle about the town, and drive up to the Bois in the
afternoon, and the great difficulty is to find a decent horse to hire;
my own at home being so very superior my taste has been quite ruined.
I saw all the Imperial cortège out yesterday driving, but I think they
all go to Compiègne soon, so that the season won’t begin here for some
time.
General de Trobriand is here, and I handed him his commission, whereat
he was in great doubt whether to go home or no. He wants to accept the
commission of colonel of the 31st Infantry U. S. A. Let me know
anything you would like to have me get you in Paris. I can easily find
time to get it. Exchange is so different from when I was here before
(On leave of absence on account of wound during the war.) that one can
well be extravagant.
Nathan.
GENERAL DE TROBRIAND.
General de Trobriand, author of _Quatre ans de campagnes à l’armée du
Potomac_ (_Four Years in the Army of the Potomac_) 1867, Paris,
Bruxelles, (translated) whose full name is Philippe Regis Denis de
Kerodem, Baron de Trobriand, was born near Tours, France, June 4,
1816. In the United States he was known as Philippe Regis de
Trobriand. From 1849 to 1861, in New York, he was editorially
connected with first the _Revue de Nouveau Monde_, of which he was
publisher, and then the _Courrier des Etats Unis_, as associate
editor. In August, 1861, he was placed in command of the 55th New York
Regiment, U. S. V. of the Third Corps, promoted to Brigadier General
in January, 1864, and from May to June of that year had charge of the
defenses of New York City. He was brevetted Major General U. S. V.
April 9, 1865, and was in command of a Division at Lee’s surrender. In
1867, he was made colonel in the Regular army and placed in command of
the 31st Regt. U. S. Infantry, brevetted Brigadier General in the same
year, commanding the district of Dakota, and in 1869, was transferred
to the district of Montana and the colonelcy of the 13th U. S.
Infantry. Later he was ordered to Green River.
I visited him at Camp Douglas, near Salt Lake City, in October, 1870,
and had a good opportunity of observing western army life and the
institution of Mormonism. The camp was prettily placed on the slope of
a hill, with quarters comfortably arranged. Several of the officers
had their wives with them which made quite a little society. I stayed
in the General’s house and had a horse at my disposal whenever I
wanted to take a ride, and so I explored some of the picturesque and
grand scenery of the neighborhood with the snow capped mountains quite
near. To go into the city we generally took the headquarters wagon and
did the thing in style.
General de Trobriand was the father-in-law of my friend and classmate
Albert Kintzing Post, so naturally our relations were most friendly,
and I have often met him on both sides of the ocean. He was in New
Orleans in 1875, during the reconstruction period, after he retired
from service on account of age, having been stationed there for some
years.
In 1885, during the Cotton Exposition I lunched with him at his house
in New Orleans, and met him and some friends one day at the grounds,
where we strolled about, and had a picnic repast under the trees. In
1887, at Paris I saw him again. It was in the summer, and at my
suggestion he joined the “Franco-American,” known first as the
“Washington,” Club, and he enjoyed dining there at the _table d’hôte_
with agreeable companions.
The General came on to Class Day at Harvard, to hear the poem
delivered by his grandson Waldron Kintzing Post, the son of my old
classmate, when he graduated in June, 1890, to attend the “spread” and
other festivities, and then one evening we had a little family dinner
at the Somerset Club. After passing a few days at the “Masconomo,”
Manchester-by-the-Sea, with his daughter and her family, he went to
the Reunion of the Society of the Army of the Potomac, at Portland,
Maine, July 3d and 4th, where he was enthusiastically received by the
comrades of his old Corps the Third, and elected vice president of the
Society to represent the Third Corps, Army of the Potomac. At that
meeting I was elected a vice president in behalf of the Fifth Corps,
it being the custom to elect every year, in addition to the president,
vice presidents and other officers of the society, a vice president
from each army corps that was in the Army of the Potomac.
My last meeting with General de Trobriand was at the wedding of his
grand daughter Lina Beatrice Post to Hamilton Fish Webster, at the
Long Island summer home of the Posts. This was the autumn of 1891, and
a pretty wedding it was in the little church, and a breakfast later
under a large marquee. Of the grandparents of the young couple present
at the wedding, besides General de Trobriand, there were Mrs. Armand
de Macarty, grandmother of the bride, and the Hon. Hamilton Fish,
grandfather of the groom.
General de Trobriand died at the home of his daughter in Bayport, Long
Island, July 15, 1897.
TO MY MOTHER.
Hotel de la Paix, Paris,
October 31, 1866.
My dear Mamma:
I have been calling on several of our good old Boston citizens, but have
not found many of them at home. I went to the Louvre the other day, and
found that lots of new galleries had been added, with all my friends of
the French school put together, and I reveled in Watteau, Boucher, and
Fragonard. I do not do much sight-seeing, and don’t care to, but
tomorrow I am going out to Versailles with a party of ladies to finish
up the chateau. This afternoon Charlie Longfellow goes with me driving
in the Bois. Yesterday evening Charlie, Stanfield and Burgess and I went
to the “Lyrique” and saw Faust very well put upon the stage. It was the
first time I had ever seen or heard the opera, and I thought it very
fine. Charlie and I shall start off for Russia probably in the course of
a month, as we are not in any hurry and we are to find out about what
will be the best season to be there and then hit it. Charlie is studying
his French very industriously, and oddly enough he has tumbled into the
very same rooms that Erny (His brother Ernest Longfellow.) had a year
ago. I got a letter from brother Tom at London, a few days before he
sailed. He seemed in good spirits over the triumphs of the _Alice_.
Friday Morn: Yesterday I had a very good though somewhat fatiguing day
at Versailles, and I should have enjoyed the pictures very much if I
could see them by degrees; but there are so many millions that one
glance at them was all you could get. Some of those illustrating the
wars of the present emperor in the Crimea, Italy and Algeria, are very
fine. We had a young French “swell” to chaperon us, and of course saw
all the best things, such as the private apartments of the Louis’ and
Marie Antoinette. I visited with Charlie, on Wednesday, Jerome
Napoleon’s Pompeiian villa, which is now a concert room and well repays
a visit. I don’t think the Pompeiian magnates themselves had anything
quite up to it. Charlie and H. Stanfield still keep up their yachting
fever and go to Asniéres on the Seine quite near Paris, and sail in a
small yacht which some French count whom they met at Dieppe, has placed
at their disposition. The de Trobriands leave for Brest in a few days,
to pass the winter there as the General wishes quiet to finish his book
before rejoining the army.
LATER: RESOLVE IN FAVOR OF ST. PETERSBURG.
Here I am at my desk, having finished my French lessons, and having
written a long business letter, to find something to put upon paper in
reply to “No. 3.”
The Boulevard and the Rue de la Paix with the Grand Opera and the Grand
Hotel are just opposite, and below in the streets there is a continual
excitement of passing objects; vehicles and pedestrians, soldiers and
beggars, but principally Americans. There is always so much going on all
around, that our apartment is not, perhaps, the best adapted for the
quiet pursuit of literature. You see I am still in Paris, and perhaps
you wonder whether I mean to leave at all. Know then that Charlie and I
have made a vigorous resolution to pack up and be off the 25th of this
month, stopping at Brussels, Berlin, Königsberg on the Baltic, and
Wilna, to Saint Petersburg, and then Moscow, thus seeing the real winter
life of the Russians. I think it will be a plendid trip. From Moscow we
may go to Odessa, etc., but this is very doubtful, and we shall probably
return viâ Warsaw to Dresden, where we separate—I for Vienna, and he
back to Paris.
[Illustration:
RUE DE LA PAIX À PARIS
]
A REVIEW BY NAPOLEON III.
Thursday Eve: A few days ago, Charlie Jackson drove out with me to
Longchamps, where the Emperor had quite a large review of the troops
around Paris. There were, perhaps, fifteen thousand troops there, and
as it was the first thing of the kind I had seen in Europe, it was
very interesting and imposing, and brought back something of the old
military ardor. The Emperor and Prince were there, but Napoleon looked
rather shakey. He is no longer young.
I saw Mr. T. B. Curtis for a few minutes yesterday and thought he was
seeming quite well after his sickness. He told me particularly to “go
it, while” I was “young,” adding that he “had had his time.” His
advice is certainty good. At the American chapel last Sunday were
crowds and crowds of people, but very, very few whom I recognized. The
same day Robert H. Stevenson and I went to the last races of the
season, and saw a very fair steeple chase, but as it was some ways out
of Paris there were not many there.
A LETTER FROM MY MOTHER.
My mother in Boston wrote me in Paris, Nov. 11, 1866,—... “And Charlie
Longfellow is in Paris! All that is left in Boston will soon find its
way there. I had a very pleasant visit from your brother Tom last
evening, telling me of the _Alice_, and of all his doings. Ristori
(tragedienne) has reigned supreme here for two weeks, and everybody has
cried to their satisfaction. I did not dare to see her for I felt that I
should not sleep for a month after it.”
ADELAIDE RISTORI.
I first saw Adelaide Ristori, mentioned in my mother’s letter, at the
theatre at Havana, in Medea, when I was there in February, 1868, and I
met her and her daughter Bianca at a reception given at the hotel.
Later, in the summer of 1884, at Paris, I was taken to her apartment
by Mr. Henry F. Gillig, president of the American Exchange in Europe,
and saw her and her husband the Marquis Giuliano Capranica del Grillo,
just as they were preparing to leave the city for their trip to
America. I remember that the rooms were encumbered with their baggage,
which was in every stage of packing for their departure. The following
winter 1884–5, when I was living at the Vendome Hotel, Boston, I
called upon them at the Tremont House, and introduced to them Mr. C.
C. Perkins, one of our citizens most prominent in music, art,
literature, etc., who was very desirous of meeting the great
tragedienne. He chatted with her in her native language, as he had
long resided in Italy, and had written several books when there.
LA DIVA, CAFÉ NAPOLITAINE.
TO MY MOTHER FROM PARIS, NOV. 15, 1866.
Charlie dropped in yesterday just before dinner, and we decided to start
on the 24th, 25th, or 26th, for Brussels, and then have a look at
Waterloo; thence to Berlin to buy fur coats, and so to Russia. Went to
the Italian opera last night and heard “Crispino e la Camare” (“The
Cobbler and the Fairy.”) sung by dear little Patti. She has improved
much since I saw her two or three years ago in America, and quite
captivated me. I should make her acquaintance if I was to remain long,
as she prides herself on being American, and goes to Mrs. John Bigelow’s
soirées. At the Café Napolitaine later a crowd of Boston men tumbled in.
It is our favorite resort for smoking our nocturnal cigar,—George Weld,
Ned Johnson, Bob Stevenson, and others. The great talk is the winter
ocean race between three of the New York Club yachts, the _Henrietta_
(owned by James Gordon Bennett, Jr.), _Fleetwing_, and _Vesta_. (The
_Henrietta_ with her owner on board won the race.) In that case the
_Alice_ will have to be put afloat again. Well, adieu for a week, and
then my last from Paris.
Nathan.
Adelina Patti, now (1904) Baroness Cederstrom, was in Boston in 1885,
and I happened to be introduced to her early in that year when I was
living at the Vendome. She was with her second husband, Nicolini.
THE NEW YORK YACHT CLUB.
May 17, 1866, I was notified that at a meeting held that day I was
admitted a member of the New York Yacht Club. The yacht _Henrietta_,
owned by James Gordon Bennett Jr., belonged to the squadron. Bennett’s
colors were a blue diamond and a red crescent on white ribbons.
I once had the pleasure of calling upon Mr. James Gordon Bennett
Senior. It was one Sunday morning, in the spring of 1872, when I was
on a visit to America. I was strolling up Fifth Avenue with Mr.
Leonard W. Jerome. As we came to Mr. Bennett’s house on the corner of
38th street, he proposed that we should go in and pay a visit to the
old gentleman, who was then very infirm and evidently destined not
long to live. I was delighted at the opportunity of seeing him, for
although I had stayed with his son at their fine place at Washington
Heights, and often dined at the city mansion, I had never been able to
be introduced to the father, as he was quite unwell, and generally
confined to his room.
We were shown up stairs to a small study, where Mr. Bennett was seated
in a comfortable easy chair, in a loose dressing gown, with a quantity
of the daily newspapers lying around him. We sat there conversing with
him some time, and I remember his speaking of the proposed plan of
rapid transit for New York, and how he had, years before, advocated
the idea in his paper, the New York _Herald_. He spoke very strongly
of the future growth of the city. It was only a few months after I saw
him that he died.
THE FOUR-IN-HAND CLUB.
Near Mr. Bennett’s place at Washington Heights and the Hudson River
the Four-in Hand Club had a house for several years. I remember
driving there for a ball the autumn of 1870, with Colonel William Jay
and a party of ladies, and then returning through some of the
unfinished roads, nearly upsetting on the way. The Club was started,
as far as I can remember in 1866. I was elected a member January 20th
of that year; the idea of membership being any one who had a
“four-in-hand,” “spike,” or “unicorn,”—three horses, two in the pole
and one on the lead,—“tandem,” i. e. something different from the
ordinary single horse or pair hitch. I had a tandem at the time. The
president was George Griswold Gray, whom I had known at Newport. The
Club came to an end, but I cannot say what year. The Coaching or
Four-in-Hand Club of New York has taken its place.
JAMES GORDON BENNETT, JR.
My first recollection of meeting Mr. James Gordon Bennett Jr., was on
the deck of his yacht _Henrietta_, at the spring meeting of the New
York Yacht Club, June 19, 1866.
I had been the guest, on his yacht, of Commodore McVickar (W. H.
McVickar, one of the incorporators of the New York Yacht Club and its
commodore in 1866. He died in New York, Nov. 25, 1896, aged 78.) when
Mr. William C. Otis was fleet captain, and some time during the
afternoon we paid a call upon the young captain of the _Henrietta_.
This was in the harbor of New York, and a very pretty scene it was.
Later on, i. e. during the summer of 1870, on my return from Europe,
where I had often seen Mr. Bennett in Paris at the Washington Club, he
invited me to join a party on his new yacht the _Dauntless_ at New
London, and make the cruise from there to Newport, which I did.
We were a jolly party,—Lawrence Jerome, Harry Stanfield, A. W.
Knapp and others. With reference to James Gordon Bennett Jr., in a
letter from Newport to the Boston _Globe_ in August 1876, I
remarked:—“Newport certainly owes a great deal this year to the
enterprise of Mr. James Gordon Bennett, in introducing the games
of polo and la crosse, for the afternoon reunions at the polo
grounds have become one of the most delightful features of the
life here this summer, and Mr. Bennett has proved himself to be as
much at home astride of his pony, as he was not many years ago on
the deck of his yacht, when he gallantly offered his services to
the government during the civil war, (He was with the blockading
fleet in his yacht from 1861 to 1865.) or when he pluckily scudded
across the Atlantic in mid-winter for the great ocean race.”
In 1881 and 1882, I remember dining at his house, the old Brooks
greystone mansion on Bellevue Avenue, Newport, where he entertained
with generous hospitality, as also, at his New York home, Fifth Avenue
corner of 38th street. He had a fine, old fashioned family butler, who
seemed to take delight in looking after the comfort of his friends and
guests. The last time I was in the New York house was at lunch with
the Austin Corbins, who had then rented and afterwards purchased it.
This was in 1886. Austin Corbin, financier and philanthropist was
killed by being thrown from his carriage at his country place at
Newport, N. H., in June, 1896, aged 69.
In Paris too, I would occasionally meet Mr. Bennett, and he generally
made some enquiry about the Panama Canal.
POLO AND HORSE-RACING.
What I have seen both of polo and horse-racing has made me consider them
both, if not actually cruel sports for horses, at least those in which a
great deal of unnecessary hard treatment is inflicted upon the poor
animals who try to do their best. In polo they seem to be jerked about
indiscriminately, and whacked over the head and body by the polo
mallets. In running races the use of the whip and spur is often an
abomination. I have seen a horse straining his utmost and at the same
time receiving the cruel blows of the whip in a way which might
naturally discourage him from making his best efforts, but which in
addition to this, by cramping his nerves and muscles, must actually keep
him back instead of leading him on. Often, too, this is done to some
horse so far behind that he can have no chance of winning the race. I
believe horses are frequently demoralized and even made vicious from the
senseless and inhuman treatment they receive. To get the best out of a
horse you have only to encourage, not discourage him. He understands
more than we give him credit for.
My only experience as the owner of a race horse was during the spring of
1866, when I had bought a very pretty and graceful little animal, which
had the name of “Carolina Filly.” She had been secured after the war by
General Joseph J. Bartlett, who sold her to Mr. George W. Weld, from
whom I bought her. She ran under my colors, blue and silver, once at
Clyde Park, now the Country Club, but was not victorious.
RACES ON THE NEWPORT BEACH.
At 4.30 p. m. on the 30th of August, 1866, there was a flat race and
steeple chase at Newport, at which 13 horses were entered, and an
account of which appeared in the local press, as follows:—
[Illustration:
GENTLEMEN RIDERS OF THE NEWPORT RACE
]
Newport has really had another sensation, in fact has been convulsed
to its “head” centre. (Allusion to Fenianism then very rampant.) Yes,
the old town has been startled by the spectacle of no less a modern
invention than a hurdle race!
“Is Saratoga to do all the racing?” muttered the Newport Jockey Club,
“Are there not greener laurels to be gathered in other fields? We have
no track it is true, yet we can make tracks. Our horses have not
received a university education, but what of that? _We_ have. We will
show them how to surmount difficulties. We will be our own jockeys,
and risk our own gentlemanly lives. It shall be neck or nothing.”
So it was settled there should be a race, and for the past week
Fashion has talked itself eloquent over the matter of hurdles. On
Thursday the excitement culminated when Easton’s Beach, where Channing
once drew inspiration, and where since, the lesser mortals have “drawn
their slow length along” in the moist costume of the sea, found itself
transformed into a race course, and its classic sands desecrated by
the presence of hurdles!
One great charm of the affair was to be its selectness. Only you and I
and our dear five hundred friends were to know anything about it. It
was to be a _bonne bouche_ for our private eating. Yet, strange to
say, five hundred people never can keep a secret, and the little
family party turned out to be the largest concourse of bipeds and
quadrupeds that Newport has seen for many a day. Fashion glittered and
shone, respectable elderly parties fairly thrilled with excitement.
Newport rich and Newport poor, stood side by side in every species of
vehicle, from barouche to butcher’s wagon. (There were about 7000
spectators and 500 carriages.) The way in which most of the horses
shied around the hurdles, bolted and did everything but go over them,
was delectable. Yet, let not the Jockey Club be disparaged.
Considering the circumstances its gallant members covered themselves
with glory,—a few of them were additionally covered with something of
a more clinging nature. One daring rider (Nathan Appleton) landed on
his head, another (Prince Ourousoff) mingled himself with the sands of
the sea, but all lived to tell the short but moving tale, and the
winner (Baron de Mesnil of Belgium) lived to receive a silver cup from
the hands of the lady (Mrs. Paran Stevens) who had been most actively
interested in the day’s sport. Thus does beauty reward the brave. In
honor of the _fait accompli_ the Jockey Club will give a fête the
beginning of next week. (Captain Harry Russell of Narragansett Avenue
was declared winner of the second race, which was a steeple chase, the
first one having been over a flat course of beach.) Pursuant to this
announcement cards were issued by the Gentlemen Riders of the Newport
Race, inviting their friends to the Jockeys’ Ball on Monday, September
3d, 1866, at the Academy of Music.
TEN YEARS LATER. A RETROSPECT.
Speaking of horse races in a letter from Newport to the Boston _Globe_,
under date of August 26, 1876, I called to mind the events of ten years
previous:—
“We have only to look up the records of ten years ago, and we will
find that then at least, perhaps even long before, they had taken
place. Ah! It was a brilliant season, that of 1866. We were a jolly
crowd, representing the _jeunesse dorée_ of many nations. There was a
young Russian Prince, several Frenchmen,—one representative of the old
_noblesse_ and another of the Napoleonic regime,—a sturdy Belgian, and
plenty of Americans, some fresh from the excitement of the war a year
before. And we had races on the beach when many were the mishaps that
befell the riders. One of them, needless to say who, had a
hard-mouthed horse which he could not control, and so, near the
finish, rushing up among the assembled crowd of carriages he
distinguished himself by leaping clear over a pony-phaeton, in which
were two young ladies, and then depositing himself half-stunned in the
sand. The account of this may be found in the old files of the Newport
_News_ but a better souvenir of it still remains for those who took
part, in the shape of a colored print now in the Country Club in
Brookline, which was published by one of the riders, an Irish
nobleman, Viscount Southwell, from his own sketch, in which he gives a
fanciful representation of the great race for a cup presented by Mrs.
Paran Stevens, the lady who then, as now (1876) presided so graciously
over many of Newport’s hospitalities and festivities, and whose
charming villa could tell many a tale of ‘vanished summer glory.’”
THE RACE AT NEWPORT.
The colored print of the race in the Country Club, by Viscount
Southwell, represents the race as if it was on the turf instead of the
sands of the beach, as was actually the case, but this was to make it
more natural, as it was the only kind of race to which he was
accustomed. In fact racing on the beach was a new departure, and I have
heard it stated that this was the first one with “gentlemen riders”
which had ever occurred, in the Northern States at least. He brought in
on the slope of the hill leading down to the beach, the coach and
four-in-hand of Hon. August Belmont, who had at that time the most
correct equipages to be found in our country. Mr. Belmont in those days
drove occasionally “en daumont,” i.e. four horses attached to an open
barouche with _postillons_ dressed for summer in jackets, top boots and
tall white hats, as you see them in Europe.
Mr. G. G. Gray would at times bring out his open break with five horses,
three at the wheel, then two, and one on the lead, a very fanciful and
effective rig. I must not forget that at the Country Club there is also
a satin programme of the race, with the names of the horses, their
owners and riders, contributed by some other person. It makes the affair
complete, and it is a valuable relic of those old days of gayety.
In the summer of 1882, Mr. Ely Goddard had some marvellous turnouts. He
had a fancy for horses of bay and white, like those you see in the
circus, and often call “wishing horses,” and managed to drive them
four-in-hand, unicorn, three abreast, tandem, a pair, or even one alone.
It was really remarkable how he could find so many of these variegated
animals to serve his purpose.
THE WASHINGTON CLUB.
As far as I can remember, the Washington Club in Paris, to which I refer
in my recollections of James Gordon Bennett Jr., was started in the
winter of 1868 and ’69, the idea being to have it a purely American
club, on the same principles as those in the United States. I was not
one of the incorporators, but joined it shortly after it was organized,
and May 8, 1869, was elected one of the board of direction.
I hardly know what to say of the Washington Club, so many souvenirs does
it now recall. Mr. Willett, always known as “Bronnie” Willett, was the
first secretary, and I succeeded him in the first year, 1869, and
continued until 1872. Mr. W. Pembroke Fetridge and I were the two most
active persons in bringing Americans there, and having them join as
temporary or permanent members.
While I held the position of secretary I kept the records very
carefully, and one of the notes regarding membership I have now in my
scrapbook from the pen of Mr. A. J. Drexel, of the banking house of
Drexel, Harjes & Co.:—
3 Rue Scribe, Paris.
January 4, 1869
My dear Sir.
I am in receipt of the notification of my election to the “Washington
Club.”
After authorizing Mr. Bowles to propose my name, upon reflecting that
my stay here would be so short that it would be of no use to me to
join, I concluded to ask him when I saw him again, not to do so, and
therefore prefer declining to become a member, altho’ the Club has my
hearty sympathy.
Wishing, however, that one of our firm should become a member, I beg
of you to propose the name of our Mr. Eugene Winthrop in my place.
Hoping this substitution will be satisfactory to you
I remain very truly yours,
A. J. Drexel.
N. Appleton, Esq.
The first apartment the Washington Club occupied was a good suite of
rooms, well adapted to its uses at that time, belonging to Dr. Thomas W.
Evans in the Rue Auber, which he offered to the Club free of rent. They
were, however, too high up, on the third floor, and not quite large
enough, and during the summer of 1869, it was decided to take an
apartment at the corner of the old Rue de la Paix, by the opening, or
rather the beginning of the Avenue de l’Opera, diagonally across from
the Grand Hotel, the first floor over the _entresol_.
When I returned from Egypt and the opening of the Suez Canal, I wrote my
sister in Boston, December 19th, 1869, “We Americans have just got into
our new club rooms on the corner of the Boulevard, what was formerly the
Rue de la Paix (Now Place de l’Opera), and a new street cut through to
the Bourse. It is the finest situation in Paris, and we are in a most
prosperous state, and begin to wonder how we ever got on without a club
before.”
It soon became popular in the American colony, and a rendezvous for the
transient travellers.
Mr. Lorillard Spencer was the president, and Mr. J. F. Loubat the
treasurer. I have preserved the receipt of my payment of 500 francs for
membership. It is number 7, dated May 28, 1869, and signed by J. F.
Loubat, who at the present time (1904) is le Duc de Loubat, a title he
received from the Pope.
In New York, on September 28, 1873, he presented to me his book entitled
“Narrative of the Mission to Russia in 1866, of the Hon. Gustavus Vasa
Fox, Assistant Secretary of the Navy. From the Journal and Notes of J.
F. Loubat.”
Mr. Wm. Pembroke Fetridge, Mr. Alfred Lockwood, Mr. de la Chaise, Dr.
“Tom” Pratt, Mr. Sheppard, Armand Voisin, the Lorillards, George and
Louis, Elisha Riggs, John Garcia and Augustus Samanos, both Cubans,
Lloyd Phœnix, James Gordon Bennett, and others, were active members of
the Club. Indeed the membership included many noted and rich Americans,
with the Minister, Consul General, and other officials of the U. S.
Government, as honorary members.
At that time there was no restaurant, but reading and card rooms, a
billiard table and bar, and plenty of American newspapers.
The rooms extended around the corner of the Boulevard des Italiens. When
I returned to Paris about a week or ten days after the collapse of the
Commune, in May, 1871, I was one of the first to look in upon the old
club, and it was in many respects a scene of desolation.
The Versailles troops who came down the Rue Auber, found it right in
their line of shooting, as they attacked the Communists, and many were
the broken windows and glasses in the different rooms.
I picked up a lot of bullets, or found them in the walls, and, knowing
how soon they would be lost or disappear, had them neatly arranged in a
case under glass, to preserve them, an interesting relic of the Commune.
Several of us members of the club met there one afternoon, and were
endeavoring in various ways to be reasonably gay under the
circumstances, when one who was by his family partly related to France
appeared, and thought it was all wrong for us to be so light-hearted in
the day of France’s trouble. We said, on the contrary, that we thought
we ought all to make the best of the situation, and so help retrieve the
sadness of the past, and so we did.
The club still exists, and we old members have been given the privilege
of life membership, so that we can avail ourselves of its rooms whenever
we may happen to be in Paris. This adds much to the comfort of a sojourn
there, as the table d’hôte breakfast at twelve, and dinner at seven,
were as good as any to be had in Paris, while the view from the balcony
is a perpetual delight.
I have often been there since, but the club name has been changed to
that of “Le Cercle Franco-Américain,” so as to admit persons of various
nationalities.
An interesting album of portraits of the prominent members, painted by
Mr. Armand Dumaresq, was one of its attractions when I was there in
1887. Mine was very good, and under my name I had written “le Champion
de Panama.”
The autumn of 1894, part of September, all of October, and part of
November, I passed in Paris, to find out what the new Panama Canal
Company proposed to do, and also to place the bronze marker of the
Society of the Sons of the American Revolution by the grave of Lafayette
in Picpus Cemetery, Paris. While there I noticed the apartment of the
Franco-American Club was closed, and was told how it happened to be so,
but that the members could go to the “Cercle des Capucines” nearly
opposite, on the other side of the boulevard of that name. I went there
one afternoon, and sent up my card, and was cordially received by my old
friend, William Pembroke Fetridge, Lynch, Davis, and others, and
Fetridge invited me to dine with some of them which I did.
FROM MY MOTHER IN BOSTON, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 1866.
“I have received this last week your nice letter of October 30. I read
it to Longfellow, and he was pleased to hear so much of Charlie. He
says, ‘Do caution the boys to guard their ears and noses in going to
Russia. They are frozen before one is aware of it, and once thoroughly
chilled you never recover from the effects.’
Monday evening: I have been to Cambridge again today. Your ‘Brother
Henry’ (Longfellow) has seen a Russian gentleman who tells him November
is too early in the season to go there.”
TO MY MOTHER FROM PARIS, NOVEMBER 21, 1866.
[Illustration:
TROIKA.
]
This is my last from Paris for some time. I tear myself from the
distractions and gayeties, from the Bois and the dance, to meet the
frantic embrace of the Russian bear. I am quite crazy about the St.
Petersburg trip, my anticipations are so high, and we long so to be off,
and every night I fall asleep dreaming of driving troikas with three
horses about the streets of St. Petersburg and Moscow, skating the
American touch on the Neva, endless flirtations with Russian Princesses
and Polish Countesses in the salons and boudoirs of St. Petersburg. All
this, too, is a _terra incognita_, and our life is not all cut and dried
for us, as in Rome or Paris. My plan is this,—to pass the winter just
where it will be agreeable, St. P., Moscow, or Vienna, or perhaps a trip
to Greece and Constantinople, with the Carnival in Venice, but
_certainly_ return to Paris in April for the Exposition, and London for
the season, and then to America early in the summer. However, if you
want me to come, if you feel nervous or unwell, don’t hesitate a moment
to write me, and I can easily and without regret turn about. On
Saturday, at five, I leave Burgess alone, much to his regret, and
Charlie and self go to Brussels, where we arrive just exactly in time
for the “revelry by night,” a peep at Waterloo, if not too cold, and
then on to Berlin to congratulate Bismarck on the state of Europe,
through Poland to Russia, a journey of a few days only. You will be
pleased to know that I have not yet lost your little package for Eliza
Carnatz, and I doubt not that it will reach her in safety. On Friday I
dine at the T. B. Curtis’s, and on Wednesday with Weld and a lot of men
at “Philippe’s.” Have you ever heard about my horses, if they are well?
I trust they will do the winter comfortably. Don’t you want me to bring
you home a nice little French “Victoria” this summer, instead of the old
family ark? (The old family carriage imported by my uncle Samuel
Appleton and after his death, in 1853, taken by my father.) As to the
Bois, I can safely say that if I had my Boston turnout here complete
there would not be a prettier one in Paris.
Thursday: I am reading now with my French teacher, Théophile Gautier’s
_Voyage en Russie_, and find it most entertaining and instructive,
particularly as he gives a _couleur de rose_ account of the winter
amusements.... I take up my pen for the third time to finish this, but
you know there is never the least opportunity of doing anything in
Paris, or even of finishing what is begun, and except my weekly letters
to you I have scarcely written at all. My groom has just been amusing
himself with packing up some of my traps, as I have one good sized trunk
to leave in Paris full of summer clothes, which I don’t think I shall
want, and odds and ends I have picked up here.
Received an invitation yesterday from the Bishop of Pennsylvania, to
confer with him on matters of importance for the church in Paris.
ADIEU TO PARIS.
Today is dull and dreary out, but except for the Bois it makes little
difference in P.
I leave my phaeton, etc., at the Bank. I am going to try to find William
Hunt, the artist, today. Well, I close and take this to the mail. Adieu
to Paris and _mes beaux jours—en route_!—Russia and the North! Love to
all.
Nate.
WILLIAM MORRIS HUNT.
While he lived I regarded William M. Hunt as the first American artist,
certainly in the line of portrait painting. I wanted for a long time to
possess one of his pictures, and I would have liked to have had him
paint my own portrait, but I never had the opportunity of doing so.
One day in 1866, just before he was to sail for Europe, I went to his
studio, and after some talk with him, he said he would let me have the
head of Lincoln, which he had painted as a study for the full length
portrait now in Faneuil Hall, for eight hundred dollars, currency. I
agreed to purchase it and the bargain was made. He told me that he
wanted to take it with him to Paris, that he might exhibit it at the
great Exhibition of 1867, and I was pleased at this, and readily acceded
to it, as I thought the portrait would have an additional interest and
value from having been there. It was understood that I should not pay
for the picture until it was delivered to me, and a bill of sale was
made out to this effect. I afterwards saw the portrait both at Mr.
Hunt’s studio at Paris, and also in the American department of the
Exhibition, where it attracted considerable attention, and I gave myself
no concern as to when I should own it.
It so happened that the painting never came into my possession before my
financial troubles in 1872, and after that, of course, I no longer
thought of having it.
After his death by drowning (He was found dead in the water.) at
Appledore, Isles of Shoals, N. H., Sept. 8, 1879, his widow, the late
Mrs. Louisa D. Hunt, was very disinclined to part with it, and so I
never pressed my claim. According to a provision in her will a large
number of his paintings and charcoal drawings were sold at public
auction and the Lincoln portrait was reserved at the sale in February,
1898, at the request of the Government. Mr. Hunt was a curious man,
brilliant, full of eccentricities, and very fascinating in certain
moods. His age was only fifty-five when he died.
Regarding the portrait I received the following note, dated May 5,
1866:—
My dear Appleton,
If you would like my portrait of President Lincoln you will please let
me know or Mr. Jere. Abbott. My price for it is $800. I should like
the privilege of taking it to England with me, and will return it to
you in a few months in case you desire it.
Yours truly,
Wm. M. Hunt,
16 Summer St.
In care of Abbott & Howard, Kilby St., Boston.
There was at the time I refer to, 1865–1866 (It was on the list at the
sale.), a beautiful landscape of the Forest of Fontainebleau I ought to
have bought, but did not. I once had in my collection of paintings one
which had belonged to my brother, T. G. A., a small picture, with a
church in the background, and in the foreground several sheaves of
wheat, and peasants returning to their houses from the field, with the
light of a setting sun. It had the touch and the glow of the master.
[Illustration:
ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
]
CHAPTER SECOND
LINCOLN AND EMANCIPATION
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
“All merit comes
From braving the unequal:
All glory comes from daring to begin:
Fame loves the state
That, reckless of the sequel,
Fights long and well, whether it lose or win.”
—_Eugene F. Ware_
I have always regretted that I never had the privilege of making the
acquaintance of President Lincoln. I remember having met him one summer
at Washington during the war, as he was driving to the Soldiers’ Home,—a
few miles out of the city where he passed the hot season,—in an open
carriage with an escort of cavalry, which was a rare sight for a
President of the United States, until the requirements of war and the
treasonable elements which pervaded society in Washington seemed to make
such a precaution advisable. This was civil war with its unseen dangers
in the nation’s capital. I can just remember his sad face, which
appeared full of the responsibilities of the situation, as he drove
along.
LINCOLN AND EMANCIPATION.
The antislavery movement in the United States, began in the mountains of
the South by Benjamin Lundy, of Wheeling, West Virginia. He published a
paper called “The Genius of Universal Emancipation,” first at Mount
Pleasant, Ohio, afterwards at Jonesville, East Tennessee, and in 1824,
he removed it to Baltimore, Md.
In 1825, Miss Frances Wright, a youthful and enthusiastic
philanthropist, established ten miles east of Memphis, Tenn., a manual
training school, in which each negro was to be freed as soon as he
proved himself capable of self support. She was a friend of Lafayette,
who was keenly interested in the plan, but it failed, and she took her
slaves to Hayti, where she settled them on land granted by the Haitian
government, freed them, and left them there.
All this was before the organization of the New England Antislavery
Society, which was formed in 1832, by William Lloyd Garrison, returning
from Baltimore where he had been associated with Lundy.
On December 6, 1847, Abraham Lincoln took his seat in the Thirtieth
Congress as a member from the state of Illinois. He was thirty-eight
years of age, and six feet four inches in height. His character and
principles are thus briefly and truthfully described by J. G. Holland,
in reviewing his public career:—
“He introduced them to a new national life. He has given them a
statesman without a statesman’s craftiness, a politician without a
politician’s meannesses, a great man without a great man’s vices, a
philanthropist without a philanthropist’s impracticable dreams, a
Christian without pretensions, a ruler without the pride of place and
power, an ambitious man without selfishness, and a successful man
without vanity.”
His position in the Thirtieth Congress on all the principal points at
issue were of the Whig party, and in the second session he began his
work for the abolishment of slavery in the District of Columbia in which
the national capital is situated, by introducing on the 16th of January,
1849, a measure which he intended as a substitute for a resolution
introduced by Mr. Gott of New York, instructing the Committee of the
District of Columbia to report a bill prohibiting the slave trade in the
District. Mr. Lincoln’s substitute provided that no person not within
the District, and no person thereafter born within the District should
be held to slavery within the District, or held to slavery without its
limits, while it provided that those holding slaves in the slave states
might bring them in and take them out again when visiting the District
on public business. It also provided for the emancipation of all the
slaves legally held within the District, at the will of their masters,
who could claim their full value at the hands of the Government, and
that the act itself should be subject to the approval of the voters of
the District. It had also a proviso to restore to their owners all
fugitive slaves escaping into the District.
Mr. Lincoln regarded slavery as property under the Constitution. Legally
he believed slavery to be right, morally he believed it to be wrong.
On the presentation of this bill Mr. Lincoln had a considerable number
of influential supporters in the District, but they subsequently
withdrew, and the subject was given up, to be revived again, under
circumstances impossible to be foretold, thirteen years after.
Speaking in 1859, on the slave power, he said:—“Broken by it, I, too,
may be, bow to it I never will. The probability that we may fail in the
struggle, ought not to deter us from the support of a cause which I deem
to be just, and it shall not deter me. If ever I feel the soul within me
elevate and expand to those dimensions not wholly unworthy of its
Almighty Architect, it is when I contemplate the cause of my country,
deserted by all the world besides, and I, standing up boldly and alone,
and hurling defiance at her victorious oppressors. Here, without
contemplating consequences, before high Heaven, and in the face of the
world, I swear eternal fidelity to the just cause, as I deem it, of the
land of my life, my liberty, and my love.”
On March 4th, 1861, Mr. Lincoln was inaugurated President of the United
States, and several of the slaveholding states rebelled against the
authority of the National Government, passed ordinances of secession,
and with other states joined to them attempted to gain possession of the
national capital, thereby bringing on the great war of 1861, which
lasted four years, and ended in the preservation of the Union and the
re-establishment of the national authority over every state and
territory.
In the effort to reclaim the recalcitrant states and restore peace to
the country, every expedient was used, and when, by proclamation of
President Lincoln, Congress assembled in extra session on the Fourth of
July, 1861, Mr. Trumbull of Illinois introduced a bill in the Senate to
emancipate all the slaves in the rebel states.
At that time one-eighth of the whole population of the United States
were colored slaves, located in the southern portion. They had been held
in slavery two hundred and fifty years, having originally, and as
required thereafter, been brought to this country in slave ships
principally from the coast of Africa and the brisk and remunerative
traffic still continued. The extra session closed on August 6, 1861,
having lasted but little more than a month. In the meantime Major
General John C. Fremont having been placed in command of the Department
of the West, with headquarters at St. Louis, on the 25th of July, 1861,
contemplating the restoration of order in Missouri, and the reclaiming
of the control of the Mississippi River, proclaimed martial law,
declared the property of all those who should take up arms against the
United States confiscated to the public use, and their slaves, if they
had any, were declared free men. In other words, he proclaimed freedom
to the slaves of rebels, but, fearing that this would alarm Unionists in
the South, Mr. Lincoln desired General Fremont, as of his own motion, so
to modify his proclamation as to make this freedom apply only to such
slaves as were engaged in the rebel service.
General Fremont had taken this step without consultation or notice. The
President wished him to conform to a confiscation act passed by
Congress, but Fremont wished the President to order the change desired,
as, if he should do it of his own motion, it would imply that he thought
himself wrong, stating the difficulties under which he labored, with the
communication with the government so difficult and the development of
perplexing events so rapid in the department under his command. This the
President did in a despatch under date of September 11, 1861, in these
words:—
“It is therefore ordered, that the said clause of said proclamation be
so modified, held and construed, as to conform to, and not to
transcend the provisions on the same subject contained in the Act of
Congress entitled ‘An Act to Confiscate Property’ ... approved August
6, 1861, and that such act be published at length with this order.”
Before this order had been received, or on the day following its date,
General Fremont, though acquainted with the President’s wishes,
manumitted two slaves of Thomas L. Snead of St. Louis, in accordance
with the terms of his proclamation.
Lincoln believed that the time had not come for the liberating the
slaves of rebels by proclamation, if he had, the Act of Congress would
not have stood in the way. The Act was the embodiment of his own policy
at that time. He had undertaken to preserve the Union and the rights of
all the states. A record was to be kept of the slaves of loyal masters,
and for their repayment for them Congress would provide. Slavery could
only be interfered with as a military necessity, an essential means of
saving the Union. He was assailed on the one side for being too slow,
and on the other for being too precipitate.
In March, 1862, the following resolution recommended by President
Lincoln passed both houses of Congress, only a few members of the border
states voting for it:—
“Resolved, That the United States ought to coöperate with any state
which may gradually adopt abolishment of slavery, giving to such state
pecuniary aid, to be used by such state in its discretion, to
compensate for inconveniences, public and private, produced by such
change of system.”
Before the close of the session the President invited the senators and
representatives of the slaveholding states not in rebellion, to a
conference at the White House, at which he admonished them that if they
had all voted for the resolution the war would then have been
substantially ended.
“If the war,” said he, “continues long, as it must if the object be not
sooner attained (i. e. the restoration of the Union without disturbance
of the institution of slavery) the institution in your states will be
extinguished by mere friction and abrasion—by the mere incidents of the
war. It will be gone, and you will have nothing in lieu of it. Much of
its value is gone already. How much better for you and for your people
to take the step which at once shortens the war, and secures substantial
compensation for that which is sure to be wholly lost in any other
event.... I do not speak of emancipation at once, but of a decision at
once, to emancipate gradually. Room in South America for colonization
can be obtained cheaply, and in abundance, and when numbers shall be
large enough to be company and encouragement for one another, the freed
people will not be so reluctant to go.”
The time for the voluntary abolishment of the slave system was at any
date previous to 1900.
In this session slavery was abolished in the District of Columbia,
completing the work begun in 1849, and recognizing the two principles of
colonization and compensation. This session also passed the confiscation
act by which the traitor to the general government forfeited his slaves,
as well as any other property, and Congress decided in advance, that the
slaves thus confiscated and held by the government should be declared
free.
Then the public at the north, these measures having been enacted,
demanded a sweeping proclamation of emancipation. The antislavery
element clamored for swifter and more radical recognition, aroused and
sustained by the eloquence of the spoken and written word.
These were the clarion notes of Whittier’s “Voices of Freedom”:—
“If we have whispered truth
Whisper no longer:
Speak as the tempest does,
Sterner and stronger.
Still be the tones of truth
Louder and firmer:
Startling the haughty South
With the deep murmur.”
To which the President made reply:—
“What I do about slavery and the colored race, I do because I believe it
helps to save this Union, and what I forbear, I forbear because I do not
believe it could help to save the Union.... I intend no modification of
my oft-expressed personal wish that all men everywhere could be free.”
He understood that his oath of office stood in the way of the present
accomplishment of that wish, but that for the preservation of the
Constitution and the Union measures otherwise unconstitutional might
become lawful. That to preserve slavery he could not permit the wreck of
government, country and constitution all together. He objected to
General Fremont’s order of emancipation because he did not then consider
it a necessity. He objected to the arming of the blacks, as suggested by
the Secretary of War, Simon Cameron, for the same reason; also to an
attempt by General David A. Hunter for a military emancipation,
believing as he did in compensated emancipation. But the border states,
toward whom he had fulfilled his whole duty, turned a deaf ear to his
expostulations, and by this attitude relieved him of further
responsibility toward them.
COLONIZATION.
Congress placed at the President’s disposal a sum of money to be used
for experiments with the colonization of the blacks, his choice of
location being the Spanish American republics of Central and South
America. In August, 1862, he invited a representative company of negroes
to visit the White House and address him on the subject; the President
asserting his conviction that both the whites and negroes would suffer
by living in association with each other. He offered them the benefit of
the fund intrusted to him for the purposes of colonization. But the
Spanish American republics protested against black colonies in their
midst. Liberia and Hayti only would receive them, and the blacks were
not disposed to emigrate to those countries, and so that project faded
as all such projects have failed in relation to sending the colored
population out of the country. The President’s plan was one of
benevolent solicitude for a race which he hoped to make self-reliant and
independent.
And it came to pass, that in the midsummer of 1862, President Lincoln
called a meeting of his Cabinet and laid before them a draft of a
proclamation of emancipation, which involved the freedom of all human
beings held in slavery in the United States, amounting to four millions
then living, and affecting untold millions then unborn, and
revolutionizing the social status of more than a third part of the
nation, but the Secretary of State, William H. Seward, while approving
of the proclamation, opposed its issue at that time, immediately after
so many reverses, and advised its postponement until it should have some
military success to support it, that it should not have the appearance
of an appeal for help. So the proclamation waited until the invasion of
Maryland brought on the battle of Antietam resulting in the victory won
by McClellan, when Mr. Lincoln brought forward his second draft of the
instrument,—even then a preliminary proclamation,—which was issued on
the 22d of September, 1862, the battle having been fought on the 17th;
Mr. Lincoln being reported as saying that he made a resolve that when
McClellan should drive Lee over the river he would send the proclamation
after him.
This proclamation declared free the slaves of those states, and those
sections of states, which should be in rebellion on the 1st of January,
1863, thus affording an opportunity for all rebel states which wished to
preserve their ownership of slaves, to do so by returning to their
allegiance to the Federal Government.
September 24, 1862, the President issued a proclamation suspending the
writ of _habeas corpus_, as the ordinary processes of law were not
sufficient to restrain disloyal persons from hindering the execution of
a draft of militia, which had been ordered, and from giving aid and
comfort to the insurrection. This suspension lasted for two months, or
until the 22d of November, 1862, and persons held in military custody
were released on parole.
On the 1st of January, 1863, the final proclamation of emancipation was
issued. It was as follows:—
PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION.
Whereas, on the twenty-second of September, in the year of our Lord
one thousand eight hundred and sixty-two, a proclamation was issued by
the President of the United States, containing, among other things,
the following, to wit:
“That on the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one
thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, all persons held as slaves
within any state, or designated part of a state, the people whereof
shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be then,
thenceforward and forever free, and the executive government of the
United States, including the military and naval authority thereof,
will recognize and maintain the freedom of such persons, and will do
no act or acts to repress such persons, or any of them, in any efforts
they may make for their actual freedom. That the Executive will, on
the first day of January aforesaid, by proclamation, designate the
states and parts of states, if any, in which the people thereof
respectively shall then be in rebellion against the United States; and
the fact that any state or the people thereof shall on that day be in
good faith represented in the Congress of the United States by members
chosen thereto at elections wherein a majority of the qualified voters
of such state shall have participated, shall, in the absence of strong
countervailing testimony, be deemed conclusive evidence that such
state, and the people thereof, are not then in rebellion against the
United States.”
Now, therefore, I, Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, by
virtue of the power in me vested as Commander-in-Chief of the Army and
Navy of the United States in time of actual armed rebellion against
the authority and government of the United States, and as a fit and
necessary war measure for suppressing said rebellion, do, on this
first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight
hundred and sixty-three, and in accordance with my purpose so to do,
publicly proclaimed for the full period of one hundred days from the
day first above mentioned, order and designate, as the states and
parts of states wherein the people thereof respectively are this day
in rebellion against the United States, the following, to wit:
Arkansas, Texas, Louisiana (except the parishes of St. Bernard,
Plaquemine, Jefferson, St. John, St. Charles, St. James, Ascension,
Assumption, Terre Bonne, Lafourche, St. Marie, St. Martin and Orleans,
including the city of New Orleans), Mississippi, Alabama, Florida,
Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia (except the
forty-eight counties designated as West Virginia, and also the
counties of Berkely, Accomac, Northampton, Elizabeth City, York,
Princess Anne, and Norfolk, including the cities of Norfolk and
Portsmouth, and which excepted parts are for the present left
precisely as if this proclamation were not issued).
And, by virtue of the power and for the purpose aforesaid, I do order
and declare that all persons held as slaves within said designated
states and parts of states, are, and henceforward shall be free, and
that the Executive Government of the United States, including the
military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain
the freedom of said persons.
And I hereby enjoin upon the people so declared to be free, to abstain
from all violence, unless in necessary self-defence, and I recommend
to them that in all cases, when allowed, they labor faithfully for
reasonable wages.
And I further declare and make known that such persons of suitable
condition will be received into the armed service of the United States
to garrison forts, positions, stations and other places, and to man
vessels of all sorts in said service. And upon this act, sincerely
believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Constitution, upon
military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind, and
the gracious favor of Almighty God.
In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my name, and caused the seal
of the United States to be affixed.
Done at the City of Washington, this first day of January, in the year
of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three and of the
[L. S.] Independence of the United States the
eighty-seventh,
Abraham Lincoln.
By the President.
William H. Seward, _Secretary of State_.
In the cabinet meeting to which the preliminary proclamation was
submitted, by request of Mr. Seward the words “and maintain” were
inserted after “recognize” in the third paragraph of that document in
the second paragraph of the final proclamation, the President in his
wisdom, having omitted the words, as it was not his way to promise more
than he was sure he could perform, and he was not prepared to say that
he thought he was able to maintain this. Thus the story is told on the
best authority.
Another paragraph is said to have been written by the Secretary of the
Treasury, Salmon P. Chase, who had prepared a proclamation from which
the President only selected the sentence beginning “And upon this Act,”
and ending with “Almighty God,” with the exception of the word
“sincerely” and the phrase “upon military necessity” which are the
President’s own. It is said that Mr. Lincoln voluntarily revealed the
authorship of the words attributed to Seward and Chase.
SLAVES STILL HELD IN LOYAL STATES.
By this proclamation of emancipation the loyal slave states were allowed
to retain the institution of slavery, which was secured to them by the
Constitution, and in order to reach them certain articles of amendment
to the Constitution of the United States must be acted upon by the
legislatures of the several states, three-fourths of the number of which
would make the articles valid. No servile insurrection or tendency to
violence marked the execution of the provisions of the proclamation
relative to the arming of the negroes.
At the session of Congress beginning in December, 1863, the Fugitive
Slave Law was repealed.
At the national Republican convention which met at Baltimore, June 8,
1864, and nominated Lincoln for re-election, one of the resolutions
advocated a constitutional amendment abolishing slavery. Another
declared that the government owed protection to all its soldiers,
without distinction of color, and at the session of congress which
opened the following December, an amendment to the Constitution was
passed abolishing slavery in all the states. It needed now to be adopted
by the vote of the states, and the necessity was pressing, for in order
to place in their hands a weapon of self-defence against re-enslavement
the negroes must be given the right to vote.
THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. FOURTEENTH AMENDMENT.
Article XIV. Section 1. All persons born or naturalized in the United
States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof are citizens of the
United States and of the state wherein they reside. No state shall
make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or
immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any state
deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process
of law, nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal
protection of the laws.
Section 2. Representatives shall be apportioned among the several
states according to their respective numbers, counting the whole
number of persons in each state, excluding Indians not taxed. But when
the right to vote at any election for the choice of electors for
president and vice-president of the United States, representatives in
Congress, the executive and judicial officers of a state, or the
members of the legislature thereof, is denied to any of the male
inhabitants of such state, being twenty-one years of age, and citizens
of the United States, or in any way abridged, except for participation
in rebellion or other crime, the basis of representation therein shall
be reduced in the proportion which the number of such male citizens
shall bear to the whole number of male citizens twenty-one years of
age in such state.
Section 3. No person shall be a senator, or representative in
congress, or elector of president, or vice-president, or hold any
office, civil or military, under the United States, or under any
state, who, having previously taken an oath, as a member of congress,
or as an officer of the United States, or as a member of any state
legislature, or as an executive or judicial officer of any state, to
support the constitution of the United States, shall have engaged in
insurrection or rebellion against the same, or given aid or comfort to
the enemies thereof. But congress may, by a vote of two-thirds of each
house, remove such disability.
Section 4. The validity of the public debt of the United States,
authorized by law, including debts incurred for payment of pensions
and bounties for services in suppressing insurrection or rebellion,
shall not be questioned.
But neither the United States, nor any state, shall assume or pay any
debt or obligation incurred in aid of insurrection or rebellion
against the United States, or any claim for the loss or emancipation
of any slave; but all such debts, obligations and claims shall be held
illegal and void.
Section 5. The congress shall have power to enforce, by appropriate
legislation, the provisions of this article.
The Fourteenth Amendment was proposed to the legislatures of the several
states by the thirty-ninth congress on June 16, 1866, and after delay
caused by withdrawals of ratifications and of rejections of
ratifications by many of the states, on July 28, 1868, it was announced
by the Secretary of State that it had become valid to all intents and
purposes, as a part of the Constitution of the United States.
THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. FIFTEENTH AMENDMENT.
Article XV. Sect. 1. The right of citizens of the United States to
vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States, or by any
state, on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.
Section 2. The congress shall have power to enforce this article by
appropriate legislation.
The fifteenth amendment was proposed to the legislatures of the several
states by the fortieth Congress on February 27, 1869, and was declared,
in a proclamation of the Secretary of State, dated March 30, 1870, to
have been ratified by the constitutional number of states, and to have
“become valid to all intents and purposes as part of the Constitution of
the United States.”
AFTER EMANCIPATION.
The history of the war shows that one hundred and seventy-eight thousand
nine hundred and seventy-five negroes, took part either in the army or
the navy of the United States, and the losses these troops sustained
from sickness, wounds, killed in battle and other casualties incident to
war, were sixty-eight thousand one hundred and seventy-eight.
The war was over in the spring of 1865. Then came the reconstruction
period, and in 1876, the Democratic party, most influential in the
Southern States, unqualifiedly accepted in its national platform all the
results of the war, including the war amendments to the Constitution.
Yet, while the race progressed with marvellous rapidity through
educational facilities eagerly sought for, and secured to them from
private and public sources, the condition of the freed slaves and their
descendants has not improved so materially as was anticipated.
President Lincoln’s solicitude has not been proven false or exaggerated,
“both the whites and negroes” _have_ suffered “by living in association
with each other.”
The tendency is to divide the whites from the blacks, the whites
avoiding those sections where the races are placed on an equality in
labor. The large plantations are being let out to colored tenants while
the landlord seeks a more congenial environment in the cities, the poor
whites seeking occupation in the manufacturing industries which have
arisen and are being developed.
It is asserted that the number of counties in the South in which the
negroes outnumber the whites, counties containing the best cotton,
tobacco, rice and sugar lands, has risen from 237 in 1860, to 279 in
1900, and that within these counties there are, on the average, 130
negroes to every 100 whites, and that in 1860, there were 71 counties in
which the negroes were more than twice as numerous as the whites, which
number in 1900, had increased to 108, and 92 per cent of the colored
race is found in the states which were in rebellion in 1861.
Notwithstanding the investment with citizenship which was supposed to
remove from the slave the disqualification of having no standing in
court, from the time of emancipation to the present, negro lynchings in
the southern and western portions of the United States have shocked the
civilized world by their frequency and cruelty; victims of both sexes
having been burnt at the stake without any pretense of a form of trial,
while local juries were unwilling to indict or condemn those who thus
transgressed constitutional law.
The Fourteenth Amendment has been virtually annulled, and the white vote
is apportioned on a fictitious representation, and based upon a black
majority.
Measures, more or less disguised as to their purpose, have been passed
by several southern states, tending to disfranchise the negroes, showing
an inclination to gradually return to former conditions, until they have
once more assumed their original bold attitude, and in the Fifty-eighth
Congress, which assembled December 7, 1903, notice was given that the
United States Senator from Tennessee would introduce a bill for the
repeal of the Fifteenth Amendment, “with a view to a permanent solution
of the vexing negro question, by eliminating the enfranchised negro as a
political factor.” It was said that the Senator would be supported by
every Southern member in Congress, and not a few members of other
sections of the Union. An ex-governor of Virginia was quoted as saying
in New York, that there is only one solution, and that is that the
Nation must recede from its position on negro suffrage, and plans to
that effect have been announced in several southern states.
AN APPEAL TO THE COUNTRY.
On their own behalf, in a mass meeting held in Boston, November 7, 1903,
forty years after Emancipation, and three years after the outside limit
of time, 1900, set in the resolution recommending the co-operation of
the Federal Government in the gradual abolishment of slavery, with
compensation, passed in March, 1862, the following appeal, involving the
rights of 10,000,000 colored people of the United States, was addressed
to the country by the Boston Negro Suffrage League:—
“We appeal to the conscience of the country to rally to our help, to
restore to us rights bought by us with a great price, the price of
nearly three centuries of faithful service and of blood shed by us in
four wars. We appeal to the American people in their strength, to have
regard for us in our weakness, and to grant us fair play and equal
opportunities with others, to make the most and the best of ourselves
in their midst. We call upon a Christian nation to treat us as fellow
Christians, as human beings. We implore a boastfully free republic to
save us from re-enslavement, to mete out to us even-handed justice,
and to throw over us everywhere the impartial protection of her laws
and Constitution.”
DEATH OF LINCOLN.
“So he grew up, a destined work to do,
And lived to do it: four long-suffering years.
Ill-fate, ill-feeling, ill-report, lived through,
And then he heard the hisses changed to cheers,
The taunts to tribute, the abuse to praise,
And took both with the same unwavering mood:
Till, as he came on light, from darkling days,
And seemed to touch the goal from where he stood,
A felon hand, between the goal and him,
Reached from behind his back, a trigger prest—
And those perplexed and patient eyes were dim,
Those gaunt, long-laboring limbs were laid to rest.
· · · · ·
The Old World and the New, from sea to sea,
Utter one voice of sympathy and shame!
Sore heart, so stopped when it at last beat high,
Sad life, cut short just as its triumph came.”
—_London Punch_, May 6, 1865.
Re-elected President of the United States for another term of four
years, and having seen the termination of the war, Abraham Lincoln died
in Washington by the hand of an assassin. He was shot by J. Wilkes
Booth, a member of a family of actors, in a private box of Ford’s
Theatre, a few minutes past ten o’clock on the evening of April 14,
1865, and was carried across the street to a private house, 516 Tenth
Street, where he died at 7.22 the next morning without recovering
consciousness. Reverent and devout by nature, his utterances had often
impressed the people with a sense of his own firm reliance on the Divine
arm. “I have been driven many times to my knees,” he once remarked, “by
the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. My own wisdom
and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.” So when the
bewildering news of his death burst upon the world, that was the
characteristic most forcibly brought to mind, and “God lives” was the
chosen message flashed over the wires from a high state official to
quell the tumult of indignation which thrilled every corner of the great
Republic. At his obsequies the funeral procession was so long that the
head of it had begun to disperse at the Capitol, before the rear had
passed the Treasury Department on its way from the Executive Mansion.
At the cemetery in Springfield, Illinois, where he was buried May 4,
1865, the procession being under the immediate charge of Major General
Joseph Hooker, Bishop Simpson quoted his words spoken in relation to the
slave power, in 1859, beginning “Broken by it, I, too, may be, bow to it
I never will.”
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS.
On the evening of April 16th, just before sunset, when the news of the
assassination came to our camp, during an exhausting march from
Appomattox Court House after Lee’s surrender, to guard the railroad at
Nottaway C. H., a courier rode up with a despatch for General Charles S.
Wainwright of whose staff I was a member, announcing the event in a few
words.
The effect upon us was tremendous, we could not believe that it was
true, and I thought at the time that it must lead to some uprising or
revolution. It was a shock to both soldiers and citizens that they could
hardly realize. But his work was done, his life was complete, and he was
allowed to die in all the glory and dignity of an unselfish triumph.
In a building corner of Broadway and 10th Street, New York, between what
was then Stewart’s great dry goods establishment and Grace Church, I had
from 1874 to 1879, a little den. It looked, like all my rooms, very
cozy, with a medley of boyish, college, and army trophies hanging about,
and endless souvenirs of travel and previous years experience on the
walls, and in graceful confusion. Many of my old half discarded things
had fallen into place, and I wrote under the light of a Russian double
candlestick with a soft green shade, while my gas was being put in
order. My old army toggery I had arranged in a trophy—sword, belt, sash,
cap, pistol, spurs, blouse of Second Lieutenant of Artillery (Fifth
Massachusetts Battery, Light Artillery) with the holes through the right
sleeve and the blood on the lining, corps and other military badges,
etc., and as a background the American flag, in silk, given me by some
dear friends with whom I often stayed at Weston, Mass., and which I
carried with me in the army, and had suspended in my winter quarters on
the Rappahannock River, Va., 1863-’4. As I now look at them I can see on
my sword knot the very same crape which was twisted round it by my
servant “Joe,” when all the army went into mourning for the death of
Abraham Lincoln. It is to me a precious relic, and one such as I imagine
there are few preserved.
In April, 1879, I wrote what follows in a letter to the Boston
_Transcript_:—
“The writer paid a visit yesterday to that remarkable picture now on
exhibition at Doll and Richards’, 2 Park Street, (Boston) by Albion H.
Bicknell, representing President Lincoln at the dedication of the
cemetery at Gettysburg. Oh, that word! What a story does it tell! It was
the central turning point of the war, just as Bull Run was the
beginning, and Appomattox the end.
As you look at that wonderful painting, and gaze at the different men
there—men who were towers of strength for the Union,—you find, as you
count them off one by one, that more than two-thirds of those who were
there that bright autumn afternoon, November 19, 1863, have ere this
passed on,—Seward, Andrew, Everett, Meade, Chase, Wilson, Stanton,
Morton, Greeley, Sumner, Welles, Johnson, Hamlin, Fessenden,—are with us
no more.
The landscape, with the trees and the sky and the flavor of autumn in
the air, is admirable. The grouping is simple, natural and effective,
and the likenesses of the different persons are remarkable. There they
are, honest and earnest American citizens, in the prosaic dress of the
day,—real, not ideal,—some few of them in uniform, but a majority in the
habiliments of civil life. You can almost catch the serious words of
President Lincoln, just as he delivered them in that terse speech which
will go down to posterity as his masterpiece of oratory.”
STATUE AT SPRINGFIELD, ILL.—
GRANT’S LONGEST SPEECH.
Early in the year 1874, a bronze statue of Abraham Lincoln was placed
over his grave at Springfield, Illinois. It was unveiled with
appropriate ceremonies and in the presence of over 25,000 people. Prayer
was offered by Bishop Wayman of the (colored) Methodist Church, and an
oration was delivered by Senator Oglesby of Illinois. President Ulysses
S. Grant, Vice President Henry Wilson, ex-Vice President Schuyler Colfax
and General William T. Sherman were present, and all made brief
addresses, that of General Grant said to be the longest speech he ever
delivered. It was as follows:—
“Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen: On an occasion like the present,
it is a duty on my part to bear testimony to the great and good
qualities of the patriotic man whose earthly remains now rest beneath
the dedicated monument. It was not my fortune to make the personal
acquaintance of Mr. Lincoln till the beginning of the last year of the
great struggle for national existence. During those years of trouble
and despondency, amongst the many patriotic men of the country,
Abraham Lincoln never for a moment doubted that the final result would
be in favor of peace, union, and freedom to every race in this broad
land. His faith in an all-wise Providence directing our arms to this
final result, was the faith of the Christian that his Redeemer liveth.
Amid obloquy, personal abuse and hate undisguised, which were given
vent to without restraint through the press, upon the stump, and in
private circles, he remained the same staunch, unyielding servant of
the people, never exhibiting revengeful feelings towards his
traducers, he, rather, pitied them, and hoped for their own sakes, and
the good name of their posterity, they might desist. It did not occur
to him for a single moment that the man Lincoln was being assailed,
but that a treasonable spirit, one waiting to destroy the fairest
government the sun ever shone upon, was giving vent to itself on him,
as the chief executive of the nation, only because he was such
executive. As a lawyer in your midst, he would have avoided all that
slander, for his life was a pure and simple one, and no doubt he would
have been a much happier man; but who can tell what might have been
the fate of the nation but for the pure, unselfish, and wise
administration of Lincoln?
From March, 1864, to the day when the hand of an assassin opened the
grave for Mr. Lincoln when President of the United States, my personal
relations with him were as close as the nature of our respective
duties would permit. To know him personally was to love and respect
him for his great qualities of head and heart, and for his patience
and patriotism.
With all his disappointments from failures on the part of those to
whom he intrusted command, and treachery on the part of those who had
gained his confidence but to betray it, I never heard him utter a
complaint, nor cast censure for bad conduct or bad faith. It was his
nature to find excuses for his adversaries. In his death the nation
lost its greatest head. In his death the South lost its most just
friend.”
Lincoln said to Grant, when as Lieutenant General he placed him in
charge of all the Armies:—
“The particulars of your plans I neither know, nor seek to know. You
are vigilant and self-reliant; and, pleased with this, I wish not to
obtrude any restraints nor constraints upon you.”
* * * * *
Boston is fortunate in having in Park Square the emancipation group by
Thomas Ball, of Lincoln breaking the fetters of a negro slave, the gift
of Hon. Moses Kimball to the city.
In Chicago, October 1, 1893, during the World’s Columbian Exposition, I
went to see the statue of Abraham Lincoln by Saint Gaudens in Lincoln
Park. It is splendid in every way, one of the finest certainly in the
country and perhaps in the world, and in 1903, a bronze statue of
Lincoln, cast in heroic mould with uplifted arm, was erected on a hill
in a town in Illinois from which point it may be seen for twenty miles
in every direction.
The theatre building where he was shot was never afterwards used for
entertainments, but for many years contained a collection of curios from
the battle fields, which was subsequently removed to the National
Museum, and it has since been attached to the War Department as an
office building for a bureau.
August 5, 1901, I visited the house where he died, now containing the
Oldroyd Lincoln Memorial Collection, consisting of over 3000 articles
pertaining to the martyred President.
CHAPTER THIRD.
BRUSSELS. THANKSGIVING IN BERLIN. WILNA.
“This is the place. Stand still, my steed,
Let me review the scene,
And summon from the shadowy Past
The forms that once have been.”
—_Henry W. Longfellow._
“_A Gleam of Sunshine_,” edition of 1864.
LETTER TO MY MOTHER.
Berlin, Nov. 29, 1866,
Or, in other words, Thanksgiving Day.
I happen to be aware of this fact, Mama, because yesterday, strolling
about the Berlin gallery we met first Mr. Urbino (Dealer in choice
foreign books in Boston) and afterwards Mr. Kellogg, (My brother
Willie’s travelling friend) the latter of whom told us that all the
Americans were to have a big Thanksgiving dinner at some hotel here, and
so we also put our names down, and mean to do “the eminent American.”
Almost twelve and not breakfasted as yet! How lazy one does get, and we
have tickets to see the Schloss at twelve, precisely.
Well then, to begin,—We really left Paris on Saturday, arriving at
Brussels in time to take a cup of tea, a chicken cold, and retire, and
you have no idea how nice it is again to be on the move!
[Illustration:
WILNA.
]
Sunday, a drizzly day, we drove all the way out to Waterloo amidst the
hoots of the “rag, tag and bobtail” of the villages taking us for
British tourists. We scanned the scene of conflict with military gaze,
bought a cane and a lunch, chaffed the natives, and returned in time to
see Déjazet the celebrated old actress perform in a charming little
piece. Monday we strolled about the town, looked at a few pictures,
flattened our noses on the shop windows, very pretty they are, too, that
is, the things within, and would find ourselves suddenly bringing up at
some grand old cathedral, or a fascinating marketplace, with statues to
old “swells” whose heads had been discontinued there; gilt-edged houses
in which the ancient guilds and clubs held forth, crooked streets, high
hills, etc. etc.
That evening after dinner we billeted ourselves for Berlin viâ Cologne,
and I soon had an excellent opportunity of airing my execrable German,
and thanking myself for the little I possess.
Well, here we are in Berlin, the city of music and philosophy, and here
is Charlie,—by the way, the best travelling companion imaginable,—ready
to descend for breakfast.
P. M. I am now in my evening harness with just time to finish this
before going to dine. Yesterday we went to the Gallery, which I liked
exceedingly, although there are only a few real masterpieces, many of
which I knew well from your book “The Berlin Gallery,” at home. The
Murillo is perhaps the finest. The building itself is charmingly
arranged, all the different schools in order, and the temperature just
right, which you won’t find in the Italian galleries. We then sauntered
along to Unter den Linden, and caused a great sensation. Whether our
reefing jackets and little hats and blue scarfs, or our truly distingué
and _chic_,—tell Willie the word is still a favorite in
Paris,—appearance were the cause, I know not. I can here say that the
Berliners are not exactly “swells,” though big on metaphysics, and now
on diplomacy and war; certain it is, however, that many were the smiles
bestowed upon us as we gaily marched along.
In the evening we saw a very good ballet at the Victoria Theatre. Today
we have not accomplished much except the King’s old palace, and got fur
lined boots, very necessary for travelling, and filled our pockets with
roubles. Tomorrow we go to see the paintings in company with Mr. Thies
and probably in the evening start for Königsberg, where I will get you
an amber bracelet. The weather is quite mild now, but I think after
leaving Wilna it will be fresh enough. It is rather an odd city, this
Berlin, with a feeble little stream called the Spree, just under our
window. Charlie sends love to all. Good night, for I go to the feast of
Bacchus,—roast turkey and plumb pudding.
N. A.
* * * * *
Professor Thies, whom I met in Berlin, had been curator of the Gray
Collection of Engravings at Harvard College, and showed to a party of us
in the second term of my Junior year the famous prints, collected by
Francis Colley Gray principally abroad, which he bequeathed to the
College, and which were then in one of the alcoves of Gore Hall, or the
Library, up stairs. Our party consisted of Professor Longfellow and his
son Charlie, George B. Shattuck and his sister, my sister and myself. It
was a great treat and gave me my first real knowledge of art. We
examined all the engravings, taking several weeks, and the remarks of
Professor Thies were full of knowledge and charm. It was an education
not only in the art of different kinds of engraving, but of painting and
sculpture, as many of them were copies of the masterpieces of these two
branches of art. The Collection was transferred to the Boston Museum of
Fine Arts when it was opened, and now forms a part of the Fogg Museum at
Harvard.
BERLIN IN 1866.
In Berlin, the palaces, houses and stores on the principal
thoroughfares, stand before you as dull and unsentimental looking as the
Prussian sentinels. The people whom you meet, while appearing as
respectable and worthy as church deacons, have no elegance nor grace
about them, they come and go on every side as gravely and soberly as is
permitted to human beings, with nothing disorderly or gay in their
manner. They impress you all as being in what is called “comfortable
circumstances,” wearing a look of contented commonplaceness, and with
the most unbounded respect for things as they are in Prussia, from the
Kaiser down, and a corresponding ignorance of and pity for the situation
in other less favored countries. There is an egotistical patriotism in
this which is delicious, and which must have its merits, but it
certainly makes its supporters more objects of curiosity than of
interest to any outsiders, with whom they may come in contact. But, on
the other hand, there is a compactness in the forward march of the North
Germans as a nation, which is irresistible, and which is certain to
accomplish great results, and for it the philosophical student of
history cannot but feel an admiration which he does not accord to the
more attractive and mercurial inhabitants of other countries. He
respects intensely the Prussians, but he does not care to live among
them.
The next morning after our arrival in Berlin we sauntered forth to see
all there was in the city, and to provide ourselves with a complete
outfit of furs: caps, coats and boots. The weather was cold and we would
need these protections for the rest of our journey, and we knew there
was no better market in Europe for obtaining them of good quality and at
reasonable prices than in the city of Frederick the Great.
THANKSGIVING DINNER.
Wilna, Dec. 3, 1866.
My dear Mamma:
I begin you a letter here as we have some time before the train starts
for St. Petersburg which I will finish there, and will take up my story
at Berlin, where I left myself just going to dinner.
The dinner was quite successful and amusing: about one hundred Americans
of all styles collected together, one pretty girl, Miss R. of
Springfield, my classmate Green (The distinguished oculist Dr. J. Orne
Green.), lots of old professional buffers, and a good deal of ruff skuff
in long coats and red scarfs, and several military men. Charlie and I
got an old Russian gentleman between us and talked philosophy and _la
vie Russe_.
The minister, Mr. Wright, presided, and went through very gracefully the
rather difficult performance of drinking the health of the President!
The Opera House at Berlin is quite stunning, and they have the best
female singer in the world, Lucca. We did not have the good fortune to
hear her. Berlin is ahead of all the world in music. In other respects I
think it rather a dull city, but then, we have not as yet shaken off the
glitter of Paris from our garments.
[Illustration:
STATUE OF KANT. KÖNIGSBURG, 1866.
]
The next day we went to Königsberg on the Baltic, where we passed
twenty-four hours, and visited the Schloss where the Teutonic Knights in
ye ancient time held their revels, and where later the King and Queen of
Prussia lived when Napoleon captured Berlin and made the peace of
Tilsit. There is an old modern church in which the numberless columns
almost prevent your seeing across, and a very old cathedral, with lots
of interesting monuments.
Yesterday we came here, a flourishing Polish town before Russia “gobbled
it up,” and go through the experience of having our trunks and passports
examined every few hours, although, when they find we are Americans,
they are very civil. They can’t quite make us out, and look upon us as
curiosities, especially stopping at Wilna. America seems to them so far
off. The Russian surveillance is very strict in the Polish cities, more
so than in Russia proper, and it was here that lots of Poles were hung
only a few years ago. Napoleon slept in the palace here the night after
Alexander left it.
It is so awfully funny, this first taste of Russia, little sleighs just
holding one man all covered with furs, and a big hoop over the horse
like the pictures in our geography,—narrow streets with crowds of Jews,
great bulb like steeples to the churches, and everything different. They
keep the houses so warm that you almost suffer. Well, I must close for
tonight.
N. A.
MY FAIRY SLEIGH.
The spring previous to this Russian journey I received the following
note from Mrs. Harrison Gray Otis, on receiving a photograph of myself
in my fancy sleigh:—
“Mrs. Harrison Gray Otis presents her regards to Mr. Appleton, and
very much thanks him for the interesting photograph which she had
already admired. She hopes he will have more snow the next winter to
enjoy his fairy like equipage, and wishes him health and happiness as
a reward for his wounds in the service of his country.”
Mt. Vernon Street,
14th March, 1866.
My pretty sleigh had the appearance of a Russian one as I had arranged
what looked like a “duga” over the saddle of the horse, with a waving
plume. I once drove down State street in it with my colored groom, the
same old “Joe” who was with me in the army, sitting behind in the
rumble, and from its striking appearance, with the white fox robes, made
a mild sensation.
STOP OVER AT WILNA.
We broke the journey from Berlin to St. Petersburg, which is long and
uninteresting, by stopping over twenty-four hours at Wilna, once the
capital of Lithuania, afterwards an important Polish and at present an
unimportant Russian town. We thought we ought not to jump into the
middle of Russia at once; we ought to look a little at the edges, and
study the ways and customs of the provincials, which we were sure would
be curious and worth seeing, so it was decided that we pass a day at
Wilna.
[Illustration:
SINGLE SLEIGH.
]
There is probably no part of the civilized world where the annoyances
about passports and baggage are greater than in conquered Poland.
Everyone who enters the land is looked upon with suspicion, and the
difficulty is not by any means over when you get in, for there is the
same trouble to get out again, sometimes even worse. But few tourists
stop there, and so any well-dressed stranger seen is an object of
curiosity, and is most carefully watched by the police. Particularly is
this system of espionage strong in the small cities, and one’s life
there by it becomes a burden.
It was late at night when we arrived at the depot. Our passports were
carefully scrutinized, our names recorded, the name of the hotel where
we intended to stop was taken down, and we were told that owing to the
lateness of the hour our trunks would not be examined that night, but
that we must come for the ceremony at ten o’clock the next morning. We
were also informed that we could not leave the city without again having
our passports examined and the proper _visa_ put on.
THE RUSSIAN BEGGAR.
When we looked out of our hotel window the next morning the street in
front was filled with beggars of every description, who on seeing us at
the window began going through every imaginable kind of pantomime which
might appeal to the pity or the pride of those to whom they were
addressed. Perhaps of all the types of beggars in the world, the Polish
Jew is the most striking. His long greasy hair, his longer and greasier
coat, his trowsers tucked in his boots and his peculiar cap, are
distinguishing traits. And then how he can pile on the agony in facial
expression and gesture! No imagined grief of Dante’s Inferno can excel
what the Polish Jew would make you believe are his sufferings as he
stands thus piteously addressing you. For a handful of copper coins
flung among the crowd, they fought hard and long.
A TOUR OF THE TOWN.
After, with some difficulty, getting possession of our trunks, and
showing that they contained no infernal machines, nor suspicious looking
insurrectionary pamphlets, we jumped into a sleigh, as the ground here
was well covered with snow, and wrapping ourselves up in our _shubes_
started off on a tour of inspection through the town.
There is something very fascinating in the first suspicion of the Orient
as seen in the outlying frontier towns of the Sclavonic race. The bright
colored churches with their bulbous steeples albeit dull and in
miniature, give a suggestive hint of what the glories of Moscow and
Constantinople will be. The queer costumes of the people, neither
Asiatic or European, and their manners in which the patriarchal
reverence for authority of the East is tinged with the curiosity and
thirst for knowledge of the West, make you regard them as a sort of
stepping stone or connecting link between Eastern and Western customs
and civilization. And then it is all so different from life in the other
European capitals, where each one is more or less a stilted copy of the
others. Here you have the mixture of the European and Asiatic elements
in such a peculiar way, that something astonishing strikes you
continually, and the social relations are so vague that real adventures
are likely to befall you in all the classes of society.
The rough wooden sleigh in which we were whisked through the place, with
its brightly painted _duga_ over the horse’s head, the light ornamented
harness, with the strange dress of the driver, made visions of winter
pleasures in St. Petersburg fill our imaginations, and we thought what a
sensation we would make could we only be transferred just as we were
into the Harlem Lane!
THE RUSSIAN HORSE, SLEIGH AND COACHMAN.
Your sleigh follows you round by day and night, always within call, and
so, enveloped in the dark furs of Astrachan or Siberia, you sally forth
on your round of conquest. The horses are superb, very fast trotters,
with high knee action, and holding their heads gracefully; the favorite
colors are black or dappled gray. The ordinary sleigh, that of the
_grand seigneur_, such, indeed, as the Emperor almost always uses, as
well as those you pick up anywhere in the streets, are not unlike our
well-known Portland cutters. Between the regular seat and the dash-board
is a little narrow seat on which the driver perches, with one foot
inside, and the other in a sort of stirrup outside, from which he braces
himself to hold the horse. A fur robe, or rather a thick cloth robe
trimmed with a deep border of fur, comes over you and is fastened around
you, and hooked at the corners of the sleigh in such a way that you
cannot tumble out. The sleighs are very plain, generally of varnished
wood, not even painted. The coachman is a type quite different from what
you will see in any other country. The most stylish are stout,
impressive looking men of middle age, with a long beard like a French
_sapeur_. They wear a dark, thick garment, which in shape I can only
compare to a dressing-gown, fastened around the waist with a brilliant
sash, and then falling nearly to the feet in great plaits.
The fashionable owners of these turnouts are seated behind their drivers
as comfortable as possible, and take as much interest in racing on the
road and passing those about them, as we do when handling the ribbons
ourselves. By far the most elegant turnout is the single sleigh with a
trotter in the shafts and a horse on each side, making three abreast,
galloping along. They are trained specially for this when young, and
they do it well; bending their heads down to the right or left, as it
may be, and rushing along madly. The Prefect of Police of St. Petersburg
had a stunning team of that kind.
Besides all I have mentioned there are many handsome double-seated
sleighs, with a flunkey standing up behind on a board near the ground in
some gorgeous livery, and cocked hat with turkey feathers of different
colors, like a major general’s.
I must not forget to mention the net that goes from the horse’s back to
the dash-board of the sleigh, to prevent the snow from being kicked in
your face, a most sensible idea, and one we could well copy in America.
These nets are of brilliant colors, red, blue, or green, to match the
livery and the sleigh, and the effect is fine as they float in the wind.
The winter of 1870-’1, after my return from Russia, I used the net to
keep the snow from being kicked in my face, a blue one, which I bought
in St. Petersburg. A young fellow who saw me passing and did not
understand what it was for, cried out:—“Look at that man, he’s afraid
the flies will bite his horse!”—Not a bad remark for mid-winter, and I
came to the conclusion that Russian ideas of sleighing were not
altogether appreciated in America.
AT WILNA. THE CHIEF OF POLICE.
The most amusing scene of our stop over at Wilna, was at the office of
the Chief of Police. To arrange our passports for departing we went to
the office during the afternoon, but as it was _jour de fête_, as it
generally is, in honor of some saint, the bureau was closed and the head
official was absent. In consideration of the great regard Russia felt
for the United States, the second in command agreed to attend to our
case, as we were in a hurry to leave the city, with the understanding
that it must be submitted to his chief for approval. The interview was
characteristic and ludicrous. The official spoke a little bad German,
nothing else except Russian. We had both neglected our German studies
and only knew a few phrases, sufficient to demand the necessities of
life in travelling. The gaps were filled up with gestures, and the
interrogatory of name, age, residence, occupation, went on slowly and
unintelligibly enough until the hotel keeper, having heard of the
dilemma in which all parties found themselves, came to the rescue with
the little French he knew and assurances of the good character of the
persons on trial, affirming that he had conversed with us long at his
hotel and he was certain there was nothing suspicious about us. This
only confused things more, and the poor official hardly knew what to do.
He was unwilling to take so great a responsibility upon himself and
began to think he had got some important political offenders. It is
difficult to say how the interview would have ended; it began to look as
if he intended locking us up until he should have time to reflect, but
fortunately the Chief of Police at this moment came in. He was a
gentleman of education and delicacy of feeling, one of those polished
Russian officers so often met, and what was more to the point spoke both
English and French fluently. He sat down quietly at his table, and in a
dignified manner saying a few words in Russian to his now abashed
assistant, examined carefully the passports, and finding everything _en
regle_, asked us a few simple questions, which being satisfactorily
answered, he said:—
“I must apologize, gentlemen, for the annoyance to which you have been
unavoidably subjected, but we poor officials have very strict orders in
Polish Russia, and mistakes will sometimes arise.”
When it was time to leave we were consigned to the best attention of all
the conductors and railroad officials of the line, with orders to be
treated as became American princes. The train was well filled with
passengers, and we took our places in carriage 722, C, _première
classe_, St. Petersburgh and Warsaw Railroad.
[Illustration:
NEVSKI PROSPECT ST. PETERSBURG.
]
CHAPTER FOURTH.
ST. PETERSBURG. TSAR ALEXANDER II.
“I shall not be particular in stating
His journey, we’ve so many tours of late,
Suppose him then at Petersburgh; suppose
That pleasant capital of painted snows:—
· · · · ·
Damsels and dances, revels, ready money,
Made ice seem paradise, and winter sunny.”
—_Lord Byron._
LETTER TO MY MOTHER.
St. Petersburg, December 5, 1866. (Continuation of letter written at
Wilna.) Here we are at last, having arrived yesterday evening, and I
must say that our first impressions are in the midst of difficulties,
for on awakening this morning we found it actually thawing, and the
streets are all filled with slosh, but the funny little sleighs rush
about incessantly, and perfectly silently as there are no bells on the
horses. We have been occupied today going to the banker’s where I found
your letter, and to the American legation where we saw the minister, who
told us that my classmate, Jeremiah Curtin, had gone only yesterday to
Moscow for two or three weeks, and in looking up some kind of good
apartment.
I think we shall stay here some time over Christmas, which I believe
comes later in the Russian calendar than with us, and devote some time
to learning Russian and continuing our French. In fact for the latter
there can be no better place than here. There are only about six or
seven hours of daylight now, and these we must give up to sight seeing,
which I mean to do thoroughly, and to skating and sleighing. In my next
I will give you a good account of Saint Petersburg and its sights.
Till then adieu.
Nathan.
TO MY SISTER.
Saint Petersburg, December 14, 1866.
... Well, isn’t it droll, here is your young brother established as a
gay _flâneur_ in St. P., who means to delve into all the gayeties of the
Russian life.
Our Minister, General Cassius M. Clay, (Of Kentucky, then 56 years of
age.), presented Charlie and myself the other day to a most lovely
Russian Princess, who lives in a gorgeous palace worth about one million
roubles,—a rouble in gold is just our paper dollar. (This was true at
that time when our currency was depreciated.) After going through suites
of apartments, billiard room and salons, we found her in the boudoir,
and she received us with such a graceful cordiality that she won both
our hearts immediately, and we are now at her feet. Tomorrow General
Clay is to take us to the reception of the Spanish Ambassador, as they
are to give a ball soon to which he wants us to be invited. The Minister
seems very inclined to be attentive and kind. We shall presently be
presented in due form to the Imperial family.
Charlie and I are very comfortably established in a nice apartment with
our books, and I want to stay here indefinitely. One must pass the
winter somewhere, and why not here, where so few Americans have tried
it?
[Illustration:
HON. CASSIUS M. CLAY, MINISTER TO RUSSIA.
]
We have a jolly sleigh at our disposition, with a horse who rushes off
like mad. Vehicles are a necessity here, where the distances are so
tremendous, and no one ever walks, and you can hire excellent traps by
the day, week, or month, much cheaper than taking them by the course.
The sleighing has been splendid for the last week, and the Nevsky
Prospect any afternoon is a sight worth seeing, filled with all kinds of
sleighs. I have even seen one or two of our American cutters. All the
strange equipages you read about are actually true, and the _troika_
with one horse trotting and the other two galloping is no uncommon
sight. The sleighing, when it once begins, lasts right along, as there
is no sun at all to melt it, the days being very short, and what little
sky there is overcast. You don’t feel the cold much either as there is
very little wind,—how I shiver when I think of the Mill Dam,—(The “Mill
Dam Road” a favorite Boston drive.), and we are learning many a wrinkle
in the art of keeping warm, which we shall bring out in America. The
shops, too, are fascinating, and I expect to invest heavily during my
stay in all kinds of Russian articles, Persian silks and Circassian
silver, Russian amulets, and the thousand and one things which you don’t
see even in the cosmopolitan shops of Paris; among others a complete
Russian harness, with a cap for the driver. There is a huge bazaar,
where everything can be found, built in a parallelogram, with shops on
the four sides.
The most fascinating things are the hoods all the ladies wear, covering
just half their little fur caps. These are made of different colored
cloths with embroidery of gold or silver. The fur lined slippers, too,
are not bad, but I won’t tantalize you with descriptions. As I do not
anticipate coming here again soon I mean to do the thing up this time. I
skated today for the first time on a pond belonging to the Russian Yacht
Club, to which we have received tickets, but there were only a few
there, in fact the skating does not fairly begin until the Neva Skating
Club is open, which is the swell place, where all the nobility go. It is
gotten up by the English, and is a large square, fenced in with pine
trees planted in the ice, situated on the Neva in the city, with nice
houses to put on your skates and warm yourself, very necessary here, and
several times during the season they give _fêtes_ by night. We have
subscription tickets for the season, and I think it will be open in a
few days. But with all this we must not forget our art, and here we have
the magnificent gallery of the Hermitage, one of the finest though not
the best known in Europe, and we can wander a whole winter through its
endless galleries without exhausting the treasures.
Sunday morning: I hope the little jacket and hat will be pleasing to
Master Billy, which Mr. Burgess is to bring from Paris. I will get him a
few of the Oriental and Cossack children’s dresses, which are stunning
and very plentiful here, and then I think he will make a sensation on
Beacon street.
Well, my dear, I must close and dispatch this. Today we are to skate on
the Yacht Club Pond, as they have a _fête_ there every Sunday, and
tonight at midnight is the first _bal masqué_ at the Grand Opera. “On
with the dance,” and _vive la jeunesse_! Last evening we passed at the
English consul’s and met some very pretty young Cossacks, quite
civilized, however. Charlie sends lots of love to you both. He is now in
front of the fire with his feet in the air. Well, goodbye, and pinch
Billy’s cheeks for me.
Nate.
There is a pretty arrangement in Russian houses, which is not to be
found elsewhere that I know of. Part of the large drawing-room,
generally a corner by windows, is often fenced off by itself, raised on
a platform, about a foot above the rest of the floor. Here is formed a
sort of garden in the house. The light iron fence is covered with some
green, flowering vine, and inside are some exotics, palms and other
tropical plants, and the effect is enchanting. The ladies select this as
their especial haunt, transforming it into a boudoir where they read
their favorite novels, write their notes, or work at embroidery.
I made my purchases of Circassian trinkets and toys, to send home to my
nephews and nieces, in the _Passage_, a much frequented place for the
idlers of the town, in imitation of the Burlington Arcade in London, and
the _Passage des Panoramas_ of Paris.
Those were pleasant skating parties we had on the Neva, in the open rink
of the Club, where all the nobility and swells of the place came out to
show their agility. Thanks to much practice and many a tumble upon the
Frog Pond of Boston, I was a skillful skater, and my partners were also
proficient in that difficult accomplishment. How we dashed along over
the place where Peter the Great had often been paddled in his rough-hewn
boat, now forward together arm-in-arm, now one backward and the other
forward, each bending in time to the graceful curves of the outside
edge!
TO MY MOTHER.
St. Petersburg, 27th Nov. Russian Calendar.
9th Dec. American Calendar.
My dear Mamma.
Your letter containing the tribute to Charlie Smith I found at the bank
yesterday. How true and good the account of him is. You expected it
would reach me in Paris, but you see we have got off before. We are
getting somewhat settled here now, though we are not as yet fairly
_lancés_ into the gay life. This is partly on account of the horrid
weather, for ever since we have been here it has been gradually melting
into slosh and the sleighing rapidly disappearing. Sudden changes are
common, and today is cold again with snow falling.
GREAT SEA STREET.
We have got a very nice little apartment on the great Moscow street,
just in the centre of the city, and the house opposite being very low we
get as much light as is possible anywhere.
We are in a French _maison meublée_ with a very pleasant Arthur O’Leary
style of _table d’hôte_, where we meet half a dozen different gentlemen
from all kinds of countries, and we talk in French of the relative
merits of our respective nationalities. In fact, we do more French
talking here than in Paris. In the afternoon before dinner we take a
lesson in Russian, our teacher using French as the basis of instruction,
and I presume by the time I leave Russia, I shall be unable to speak any
other language. It is considerable difficult though, but I go on the
principle of learning everything.
[Illustration:
BOLSHAJA MORSKAJA (GREAT SEA STREET).
]
The Church of Sault Isaac, which is about the only sight we have seen,
is perfectly gorgeous, with its huge pillars of malachite and _lapis
lazuli_ from the mines of Demidoff. You enter, and a mysterious feeling,
half oriental and half European, carries you away. The perpetual
incense, the prostrate worshipers, the delicious temperature and the
ornaments which combine the _luxe_ of Europe with the savage
gorgeousness of Asia, form a whole which the churches of Italy do not
have. Perhaps this combination of East and West is the great charm to
the life in Russia. The toilettes of the ladies have come from the brain
and fingers of Parisian _couturierès_ adapted to climate here. The
Oriental element you see strong in the livery of servants and the
uniforms of officers. The feeling of caste is very marked, and while the
London flunkey beats the world in servility, and the Italian beggar in
woe-begone dejection, the Russian servant seems to be afraid of you,
recognizing the superior man in everything.
[Illustration:
CHRISTMAS SHOPPING IN ST. PETERSBURG.
]
PRETTY RUSSIAN MAIDENS.
I have not yet had a good chance to see all the different sleighs in
their glory, but from what I have seen I think they will be stunning. We
saw two pretty little Russian maidens, with their white furs, driving
along in a jolly sleigh, the horse in the shafts trotting gaily, and one
on his left cantering beside him.
The omnibuses have three horses, but I have not seen a swell in his
_troika_. The horses certainly trot faster than any except ours, and
some I see on the Nevsky Prospect would make a very creditable show on
the Brighton road.
P. M. We have been out today to visit Mr. Pierce, (A relative of the
Longfellows, who had been secretary of legation during President
Pierce’s administration, and at the time we were in Russia connected
with the Winans in the railroad building business.) who lives about four
miles outside the city, and after passing the place by mistake and
returning, we succeeded in finding him, and received a most hospitable
reception. He seemed much inclined to help us in any way to have a jolly
time. The sleighing was fine and the air deliciously cold and clear.
The Russian youths at the theatres are a most enthusiastic crowd, and I
have seen singers at the Opera, ballet dancers, or even a circus star
called out five or six times. The Grand Opera House is very fine, and
the ballet troupe gorgeous, quite as good, if not better, than the one
in Paris. There is a theatre (Saint Michel) where they give French and
German plays, so that one can have most everything.
Well, I have lots of letters to write and no time to write any of them,
so that this must suffice you for the week.
Nathan.
The theatre is large and finely decorated. The Imperial box is always
ready to be occupied by the Tsar or some member of his family, the
sentries standing on each side of it in their gorgeous uniforms as
motionless as statues. The pit is filled with the _viveurs_ of the city,
young and old, who are in their stalls, lorgnettes in hand, watching
every movement on the stage. Between the acts all file out into the
smoking room, when a _papyrus_ is inhaled, and some cooling beverage
partaken of in the interlude of the play.
The ballet itself is a masterpiece of skill in its peculiar style. The
dancers are trained carefully for years in a school under the Imperial
patronage, and only appear upon the stage after having gone through a
long apprenticeship. The story of the piece, of which the scene takes
place in Russia or some of the Oriental countries, is most carefully
worked up by the author, and entirely acted in pantomime and dance. All
the passions of love, hatred, jealousy and revenge will be exhibited by
motions aided by the changing strains of an excellent orchestra. When a
favorite _danseuse_ comes bounding across the stage, attired in Russian
costume, delineating in her movements sentiments which appeal to the
pride or patriotism of the audience, the enthusiasm of the house knows
no limit, and words and shouts of applause rend the air long and loud.
CHARLES K. SMITH.
I went to New York on my seventeenth birthday, February 2, 1860, when I
was a Freshman at Harvard College, to pay a visit to the family of David
Lane, whose wife was Caroline Lamson, sister of Colonel Daniel S.
Lamson, friends of my mother, who lived at 12 East 10th Street or
Brevoort Place, as it was called. The firm was Lane, Lamson, & Co. The
American flag in my trophy was given me by one of this family. It was on
this New York visit that I made the acquaintance of Charlie Smith, and
he seemed to take a great liking to me.
In my diary of Feb. 2, 1860, I find, “In the evening people came, it
being the Lanes’ reception evening, Mr. Smith and others.” This is the
first mention of him. One evening, shortly after this, he invited us all
to go to the Italian opera at the Academy of Music, in Brooklyn, and we
accepted, driving over and back.
The next mention is in regard to a visit to Weston, Mass., “Feb. 16,
1860. Went to Weston in a glorious snow storm. Stunning dinner. Went for
two of the party in an ox team to the station. Took profiles in the
evening. Supper stunninger.
Sunday, Feb. 19, 1860. There was no church but we went out in the sleigh
to see Mr. Smith’s protégé, deaf and dumb. (A boy he was interested in
and was having educated.) Good dinner.”
Daniel S. Lamson, our especial host and entertainer in 1860, was
commissioned Major 16th Mass. Infantry, Aug. 1, 1861, Lieutenant Colonel
July 23, 1862, and resigned for disability Sept. 29, 1862. But this was
the year before the War.
I always called him “Uncle Dan” and do so still (1904).
Charlie Smith was about ten years my senior, and that sort of regard
from an elder is always appreciated by a boy. At the time of my visit to
New York he was stopping at the Brevoort House. He was a member of the
New York Club in Broadway, the crack one at that time, and won my heart
and esteem at once. I was devoted to him. One day we strolled down
Broadway and he treated me to oysters and a glass of beer, and I thought
I was a man of the world.
When we met at Weston he fascinated me more than ever, with his stories
and songs, and we had many merry evenings. I was treated as a young man,
not a boy, and I look back to those old times with unmingled delight.
The letter I received from my mother announcing Charlie Smith’s death at
San Francisco, I can now recall and explain. Of Boston parentage, he had
gone to California in the early days, and made what at that time was
considered a good fortune. He was killed accidentally by a shot when out
gunning. He was so popular in the city of San Francisco that the body
was laid in state in the rooms of the Union Club of that city, as a
tribute to the appreciation in which he was held by its members.
THE NEW YORK CLUB.
The New York Club, corner of Broadway and Great Jones street, I never
visited with Charlie Smith, but during the War they moved to the Haight
house, Fifth avenue and 15th street. That was the apogee of their
greatness, and I was introduced and became a six months’ member. Great
Jones street was near property which belongs to the Jones-De
Trobriand-Post families.
TO MY MOTHER.
Wednesday, Dec. 20, 1866.
Saint Petersburg.
My dear Mamma:
I begin you a letter now, to finish sometime if possible. Your last one
talked to me about the furs. I think you are quite right to want lots of
Russian things, as they are fascinating, and you will probably never
have as good an opportunity of getting them. Be easy, then, for I am to
buy no end of various things, and send them all off to Boston, by the
first Spring boat of Mr. Ropes. Mr. Prince, who is the head one of the
house here, is very obliging, and being a good judge of furs, I think I
can satisfy you in that line, though they won’t be in time for this
winter. I shall buy the skins only, and you can have them made up in
Boston to suit you, as the fur goods they wear here are different from
ours, and might not please you. For instance, I have not seen a pair of
cuffs in St. Petersburg. I shall get handsome, dark Siberian sable
skins, worthy of a princess, Persian table cloths, malachite ornaments,
slippers, Circassian silver, etc., etc., and also something which will
make you very happy—a little box or two of the stunning tea, which is
brought across from Pekin in caravans.
We are to dine with Mr. Prince next Tuesday, which is Christmas day, and
have since had to decline an invitation for the same day, given us by
the English Ambassador.
EMPEROR ALEXANDER II.—PRESENTATION.
Two days ago we were presented to the Emperor. We were quite alone, no
other people being presented the same day. We marched through suites of
apartments, and were formally ushered into His Majesty’s billiard room,
where we were received by two of the chamberlains, and from there we
went into the reception room where we soon had a little conversation
with the head of all the Russias in our native (?) language of French.
He is very nice, I give you my word, but we were disappointed in not
seeing the Empress, though this comes some other time.
We have a good many occasions of airing our French in the _beau monde_
of Russia, and I find that there is no trouble with it; the only thing
to do being to go right along regardless of errors, for I see that
although I do not speak very well, there are plenty who speak quite as
bad and worse, and this being a neutral ground of course one is bolder.
However, a great many of the well educated speak English admirably.
All this goes to show that we are in for society now, and have to await
quietly a round of balls, operas, and dinners, and return our calls most
punctiliously, a form of etiquette about which the Russians are very
exacting.
We went to a jolly young count’s (Koucheleff Besborodko) the other day,
who immediately made us at home with a delicious cigar. His house, take
it all in all, was about as lovely as any I have ever seen, with an
Oriental smoking room, a Pompadour boudoir, a Chinese room, a long
gallery of paintings, an immense dancing hall, and a conservatory
arranged with grottoes and cascades, a rustic bridge, and an original
old statue of a satyr, picked up in Rome. The Count is a great
connoisseur of art, and his collection in all its branches is
magnificent, with souvenirs of every city of Europe, and all the ages of
the world, enough to drive to despair any such little dabblers as
myself.
I have met quite a charming young Austrian lady, who lives with the
Spanish Ambassador’s wife, but I shall take good care of my heart and
bring it back to Boston.
Our acquaintances, thus far, are eminently diplomatic, as you see, the
English consul’s family especially being very attentive.
We skated yesterday on the Neva Club place for the first time, as the
grounds are only just opened, but today it is thawing again, and we must
wait a bit for it to freeze.
I think you would be rather frightened at the way they drive here in the
sleighs, rushing off as fast as possible, yelling to people and
carriages to get out of the way, and then bringing the horse up suddenly
with a droll sound—bhr-r-r-r!—which corresponds to “whoa” in English. In
some letter I will describe a sleigh for you, but they are all alike,
from the Emperor’s to the street cabs, except in finish. There are very
few covered vehicles here to hire, and you always go, by night and day,
in an open sleigh, so you can judge from that, that the cold is not so
awfully severe here as you imagine. We take very good care not to be
frozen, as we both have a horror of the amusement, but enough for today.
Nate.
THE PRESENTATION.
The Hon. Cassius M. Clay, the American Minister, presented C. A.
Longfellow and myself to the Emperor.
THE INVITATION.
Translated from the French.
Ministry of the Imperial Court.
Direction of Ceremonies.
St. Petersburg, 5–17 December, 1866.
The Grand Master of Ceremonies has the honor to inform Mr. N.
Appleton, that he will have the honor of being presented to His
Majesty the Emperor tomorrow, Tuesday, 6–18 December, at half past one
in the afternoon at the Winter Palace.
You are requested to come to the door of Her Majesty the Empress.
[Seal]
[See binding of this book.]
The invitation was gladly accepted, not only from the desire of meeting
in person the Autocrat of all the Russias, but also because once done
your name was put upon the list of distinguished visitors to the
capital, and, as a matter of course, you were invited to all the balls
and festivities of the season. General Clay called for us in his sleigh,
and we drove to the Winter Palace, where we were met by some of the
officers of the staff, on horseback. The regulation dress prescribed for
us was “black or blue dress coat, black vest and pantaloons, white
cravat and white kids,” as stated in a marginal note by General Clay.
Having been ushered into the presence of the Emperor, as detailed in my
letter to my mother, we had a little chat with him, principally
answering some questions about America, and then retired, and went down
stairs.
While waiting in the hall below for our sleigh to drive up, the Tsar
came bounding down the staircase, followed by his favorite Newfoundland
dog, with which he was often photographed, and before jumping into his
sleigh and dashing off on some call, he stopped and exchanged a few more
words with us. Indeed the whole interview made a most agreeable
impression upon me.
GORTSCHAKOFF.
“The days when the great Nicholas leaned on him sweep back from the
mists of the buried years. In his old age, he is the Richelieu of
another Tsar, for Russia draws the sword in fight once more.”
—_Col. Richard Henry Savage_ on Gortschakoff in 1876.
I was naturally very much delighted with the prospect of being presented
to the distinguished veteran Russian diplomatist and chancellor of the
empire. This occurred in December of this year, 1866. General Clay had
arranged the interview beforehand with Count Gortschakoff, and one
morning called for us at our hotel in his sleigh to take us there.
Another person was of the party, and strangely enough a negro, a certain
Captain Chester, who was out in Russia on some special business.
We started off through the cold, clear air, and were soon at the door of
the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, where we were expected, and ushered in.
We first met Mr. Westerman, a gentleman who for some time had been Count
Gortschakoff’s right hand man and assistant in the tremendous duties of
his office, and were then shown by him into the private cabinet of the
chancellor.
Our interview was, of course, not lengthy, but most interesting. The old
gentleman chatted with us very pleasantly on different topics, and in
his manner and reception of us was as simple and unaffected as a child.
He looked hale and hearty, and as though he had before him many years,
which he meant to devote to aiding the development of Russian progress
and civilization, and he did live two years after the death of the Tsar
and died in Baden-Baden March 11, 1883.
LETTER TO MY MOTHER.
St. Petersburg,
Thursday, Dec. 27, 1866.
My dear Mamma.
Another week has glided rapidly by, finding us still at St. Petersburg,
and I have two of your letters to acknowledge, the last one bearing date
of December 9th.
TO CRONSTADT—AN AMERICAN PARTY.
What have we been doing? Among other things yesterday a party of
Americans went to see Cronstadt. We were, General Roberts, U. S. A., a
good specimen of an American general (Benjamin Stone Roberts, graduate
of West Point, served in the Mexican war and the Rebellion, brevetted
Brig. Gen. U. S. A., and Major Gen. U. S. V., inventor of the Roberts
breech-loading rifle, which he was trying to introduce to the Russians.
He was a remarkably genial fellow, and had lots of good stories which he
delighted in telling.), Mr. Sawyer, correspondent of the New York
_Herald_, and a very pleasant companion, C. A. L., and myself, and we
had a Russian colonel put at our disposal to open the gates of
everything. We went down by rail to a place opposite Cronstadt, and then
crossed over the Gulf of Finland on the ice, with two funny little
Finnish ponies to each sledge, one trotting and the other galloping, but
going like the wind, and doing the five miles in less than half an hour,
without lessening speed once. It was very cold and our fur coats were
necessary. We visited some of the forts, and afterwards breakfasted at
the Navy and Army Club of the place. The whole effect of the day and the
adventures were eminently Russian. We had to get up long before
daylight, and saw the sun rise about 9 o’clock, something one does not
often see here, as we are generally asleep at that time.
THE IMPERIAL STABLES.
One day last week we visited the Imperial stables, which I thought very
shabby, although many of the horses were stunning, and afterwards we
examined all the swell carriages and sledges, which have been used at
coronations, weddings and _fêtes_ from the time of Peter the Great to
the Princess Dagmar. They showed all varieties of taste, and are more
magnificent than those at the Trianon at Versailles.
On Christmas Day Charlie and self dined with Mr. Prince, and attended
just before dinner the christening of his youngest child. It was quite a
large dinner, Anglo-American, and most decidedly respectable. It is
curious how very few American families there are living in St.
Petersburg. Last Sunday we dined with Mr. Whistler, (George W., father
of the artist James Abbott McNeill W.) who is one of the gentlemen
connected with the Winans car manufactory. There were about twelve, all
gentlemen, and all Americans, indeed it included almost all the American
males here,—General Clay, and the Consul, Mr. Winans, Mr. Pierce, and
others, and it was jolly enough.
On Saturday next Charlie and I think of starting for Moscow, spending
ten days, or so, and then returning, as we give up the Odessa plan, but
we have not quite decided.
Well, I must stop now, as I go in a minute to drive with the Spanish
Ambassador and his wife, the Duke and Duchess d’Osuna et de l’Ynfantado,
but whether it is a “_grand diner diplomatique_” or a “_petite causerie
intime_” I know not.
Friday morning: I have just time to finish and dispatch this now, before
going out to perform the numerous last duties on the eve of our
departure for Moscow. Cards must be sent round, etc. etc.
The dinner yesterday was very good, rather in the heavy diplomatic line,
old swells with countless decorations, and jewelled dowagers nodding
over the table, with a sprinkling of youthful _attachés_ and officers
filling up the corners. Later in the evening I went to a ball at the
rooms of the Artists’ Club, and danced a little.
Well, I must rush out, one is always hurried here, as I have before
observed. My next will probably be from Moscow, where I can give you an
account of our cousin Eliza, and deliver her your present; also, the
Kremlin, and the tea-drinking gardens. A hard snow storm which looks
like continuing.
Adieu. Nate.
ROSS WINANS.
In a letter from my mother visiting Baltimore in 1852, to my sister and
myself in Boston, she wrote:—“This morning we have been to see the most
superb house in the country, built by a gentleman of the name of Winans,
who has been employed by the Russian government in the construction of
railroads and cars, and has made an immense fortune.” This letter was
sealed according to the custom of the time with a red wafer.
Ross Winans, a native of New Jersey, was an inventor and manufacturer of
railroad machines in Baltimore, and undertook the Russian railroads by
the advice of George W. Whistler. He died in Baltimore, in 1877, at the
age of eighty-one. He had two sons who went to Russia; Thomas de Kay,
who died in Newport, R. I., June 11, 1878, aged fifty-eight, and William
Louis, who never returned to this country, but went to England after the
completion of the St. Petersburg and Moscow railroad, and died in
London, June 25, 1897, aged seventy-five.
CHAPTER FIFTH.
MOSCOW. THE CITY AND ENVIRONS.
TROTTING IN RUSSIA.
“Say, Mandarin, fresh from the Orient old,
Will they give us the queue when they give us the gold?
Rise, Curtin, arise! Let the Manchu declare—
Is he under the paw of the Great Northern Bear?
You uncovered the Pole, brought Pan Michael to light,
Ran Sienkievitch down through the vast polar night;
Then, skirting the coast to the isles of the Celt,
You caught the sweet ballads that make the heart melt,
Thus linking two worlds. Nate Appleton tried,
But the Gulf was too deep, or the Isthmus too wide.
Brother Pratt had the keynote—he doesn’t know which,
Art, music, the lingo of Ivanovitch.”
—_James Herbert Morse._
Harvard College Class of 1863. Poem at Class Dinner of 1901.
FROM ST. PETERSBURG TO MOSCOW.
The journey from St. Petersburg to Moscow is a long ride, and in winter
when the days are short, seems to be a night which will never end. You
take the train in the afternoon and have not accomplished many scores of
versts, or disposed of many hours, before twilight fades into dark, and
the great snow plain on every side loses its brilliant whiteness, and
has a grey and mysterious look. So, too, in the morning, though late,
the sun is not more than fairly up when you behold in the distance the
gilded domes and fairy minarets of the old Russian metropolis, as they
first appear, and you feel that at last you are in the heart of the
Empire. But the hours passed in the cars are far from tedious. “Car” is
the word that can be used, for those on that railroad line much more
resembled what we have in the United States, than anything to be found
in Europe. They were divided into small rooms or compartments, a large
saloon being left in the middle, and a passage going the length of the
car, so that you could pass from one end to the other, and get off on
either platform. At that time no regular beds were made up, as in our
“sleepers,” but the cushions could be comfortably arranged and the weary
traveller repose very satisfactorily. There was, too, a room overhead
for smoking, which you entered by climbing up a narrow, ladder-like
staircase, and where the fragrant Havana could be enjoyed in security.
Double doors and windows kept out the excessive cold, and a good stove
plentifully supplied with wood made the temperature within all that was
to be desired. The buffets on the road could not be excelled, and a
_table d’hôte_ dinner was taken at one of the stations about six
o’clock, which offered a glittering array of glass and silver as you
entered on leaving the train, while the display of viands alone would
tempt one, were he not ravenous with travel.
[Illustration:
THE KREMLIN, MOSCOW.
]
The occupants of the car, in an easy fellow-feeling way, soon get
acquainted with each other, and throwing off the reserve they might
otherwise have, mix together in democratic freedom. Their nationalities
are soon known, if not their names, for there is always one man aboard
who has a knack of finding them out and of communicating adroitly his
information to the others, and stories of travelling adventures in
different countries, with accounts of the queer persons met, and the
dangers escaped, beguile the hours.
St. Petersburg is entirely a modern city, and a modern city like other
European capitals, or, rather, like the modern parts of them. The
stranger going there expects, very naturally, to see predominant the
stamp of Muscovite nationality but he does not find it, as the principal
public buildings were designed by foreign architects, and show plainly
traces of the country from which the brain that gave them birth has
come.
Moscow, fortunately, is quite different, and is well worthy of being the
place where the Tsars are crowned. Any one who dropped down their
blindfold would, as soon as the bandage was removed from his eyes, cry
out like the soldiers of Napoleon’s army, as its green roofs and gilded
cupolas met their anxious gaze, “Moscow, Moscow!”
No city in the world has a more marked style, which is neither of the
East nor of the West, but rather suggestions of both. Constantinople,
Venice, Vienna, all can be seen in part, and as you look at it calmly,
in awe and admiration, you can only say, “This place is unique, it
resembles nothing else,” and you know why it is so, in reflecting that
here is the old homestead of the great Slavonic race, a race
sufficiently different from all others to be well warranted in leaving
one typical city as a monument.
FIRST LETTER FROM MOSCOW.
To my mother from Moscow I wrote as follows:—I cannot date this as there
is no French paper about, and also, what with the Russian and our
difference in the calendar, time is considerably mixed up. This cannot
be better shown than by the agreeable fact that we have two Christmas
Days this year, one which we passed in St. Petersburg, and the other
which comes next week, when we are to see a real German Christmas tree
at the Carnatzes.
Well, then to begin, Mrs. Appleton, we are now in Moscow, a truly
Russian city, and as different to St. Petersburg as Boston is to Paris.
We left St. P. on Saturday afternoon, and after a journey of hours, with
several Americans in the train, we arrived here, and are comfortably
established in the Hotel Dusaux.
I first went to find Curtin, my old classmate and the secretary of our
Legation, who was much surprised at seeing me, and said he would do his
best possible to make our stay pleasant. We then called on my cousin
Eliza Carnatz, and had no difficulty in finding her and making ourselves
known, and she was delighted at seeing her relatives and appreciated
your present, which I am happy to say has finally reached its
destination safely. This picture (The letter-head showing a colored view
of the Kremlin.) will do for your scrap book, so I will leave it entire.
In the evening Curtin took us to a Russian party, and I think I passed
about the pleasantest evening there in Europe. It was at the house of
General Behring, a lineal descendant of the one who discovered the
Straits, and the _soirée_ began with private theatricals in Russian and
French, afterwards dancing, then the mazourka, then a sit down supper,
the universal custom at parties here, and finally the _cotillon_,
something as with us, and home between four and five.
The General received us with charming cordiality, and would make us
believe we were doing him a favor in coming, and his lovely
daughters,—their mother being dead,—acted well in the plays, and did the
honors of the house most gracefully.
There were several pretty Russian young ladies there, and many were the
sentiments and toasts for the friendship between Russia and America, the
two great rising nations of the world!
The young ladies here nearly all speak English well, besides French,
German, Russian, and also, sometimes, Italian. This is true of many of
the young men, too, and although this seems to make us very ignorant,
still, in the matter of general education, the classics, philosophy,
mathematics, etc., I imagine we are their superiors. Moreover, languages
are almost a necessity here, while with us they are only a very
desirable luxury.
Wednesday p. m.: The day after the ball we did not rise much before
dinner time, when we dined with the Carnatzes. The party consisted of
Coz. Eliza and husband, Mr. Watson, the father of his first wife, a
brother, a French lady friend, and one or two others. It seemed quite
natural there, as there were several family portraits on the walls, and
her album was filled with photographs of all of us. We had a quietly
pleasant evening, with long chats about Russia and America, family
events, literature, politics,—and drank tea indefinitely.
RUSSIAN TEA-DRINKING.
Tea is the national drink of the Russians, and a genuine tea-drinking
restaurant is very curious. We went to one the other evening which is
the resort of the _isvoschiks_ (cabbies) and the peasants. Your true
Russ orders a pot of tea and another larger one of hot water, the latter
of which is often replenished, and he will sit over it several hours,
drinking fifteen or twenty cups of tea, and not finishing until he can
get no more color out of it. What do your delicate nerves think of this?
[Illustration:
DRINKING TEA.
]
The tea is wonderfully good, and the commonest stuff here would put to
the blush the very best hotel article in America and much of that you
have at family tea parties also.
Yesterday morning we went with Mr. Young, a very pleasant and attentive
young American from Niagara, who has been here several years in the
business of agricultural implements, to see the Kremlin, and all the big
bells therein, which are truly wonderful, and can make much noise when
they try, and in the evening to the Carnatz’s box at the ballet of the
Grand Theatre. The building is considered, perhaps, the finest in
Europe, and the ballet itself as is always in Russia, remarkably fine.
After the ballet Charlie and I went to a ball at the Kosakoff’s, where
we had a good idea of a fine Moscow house and the Muscovite _beau
monde_. Dancing, supper, music, etc., and finally I had for my partner
in the German cotillon the prettiest girl in Moscow, a Miss Martinoff.
FAST TROTTERS IN MOSCOW.
We went out today to the race course, where they often have races in
sleighs, and saw the sports of Moscow exercising their fast trotters.
The scene was very like ours at home, and we conversed on the relative
merits of Russian and American trotters, and one enthusiastic old Russ
wanted to bet two hundred thousand roubles on his country, so that if I
buy and import “Dexter” (The fastest trotter of the time.) I can make a
goodly sum.
SNOW HILLS.
The snow hills are a national institution on the same principle as our
coasting, only the hills are artificial and are all ice, and you take a
lady on the sled with you, and dash down like the wind. There are two
hills opposite, so that they go from one to the other and then return.
Remembrance to all,
Nate.
THE CARNATZ CONNECTION.
My diary when a boy of fourteen had the following entry:—“January 16,
1858. Our Russian cousin sent us some nice things; among them were a
malachite pin and sleeve buttons, and one of the medals thrown to the
peasants at the coronation of the present Emperor Alexander.”
My mother’s mother, Mrs. Jesse Sumner, was a daughter of Mrs. Nathaniel
Coffin, whose son Thomas established himself in business in Moscow about
1829, and died in Perovo, Russia, in 1832. His daughter Eliza married
Mr. Carnatz, a German. In 1870, we received the intelligence that they
proposed to remove to Dresden.
THE CARNATZ CHILDREN.
Nothing has ever shown me more conclusively how easy it is for children,
when very young, to learn and speak several languages, than my
experience with my little Carnatz cousins. Of course being Russians by
birth, that may naturally have been their first language, but their
mother, who insisted upon being an American, the country of her father,
had them at once instructed, probably by herself, in the English tongue.
Then her husband, their father, being a German the language of the
Fatherland had its proper place. After that came French, which was the
cosmopolitan language of all well-to-do people in the Russian empire.
They could rattle off these various languages “as easily as rolling off
a log,” and so can any one who begins them in childhood.
A RUSSIAN MANSION.
A good type of the elegant Russian mansion was large, made of wood and
only two stories, with a long array of rooms running _en suite_. At the
door stood the ever watchful porter, ready to take the _shubes_ and
overshoes of the guests, and never forgetting to whom each belonged,
resplendent in his showy livery with the eagles embroidered in the wide
border of his cape, looking the picture of comfort as he stood by the
blazing fire, the thermometer outside showing a temperature well below
the zero of Fahrenheit. Beyond him, at the foot of the stairs, a huge,
stuffed black bear stood erect, in his paws a salver, with a pitcher and
glasses, as if bidding you welcome to the hospitalities of the house.
THE CITY AND ITS ENVIRONS.
We went on many excursions in the city and its environs. The Kremlin,
with its endless interesting objects, the churches so numerous that they
say there is one for every day in the year, and the old historical
monuments from which can be gleaned a knowledge of all the phases from
barbarism to civilization through which the vast Muscovite nationality
has passed, were carefully and intelligently studied. We would ramble
for hours through the curious bazaar, the Gostinny Dvor, gazing at the
different wares exposed, talking and bargaining with the shrewd Jew
shopkeepers, and picking up many curiosities, from Persian talismans to
Siberian rugs, which had found their way to this cosmopolitan mart in
boats through the Caspian Sea and up the curving Volga River, or in
caravans all along the dreary plains and through the steep mountain
ranges, from the interior of China and Hindostan. Malachite from the
mines in the Ural Mountains, fragrant packages of high-priced tea,
chain-armor from Circassia, and quaint Albanian gems, gorgeous colored
silks, pipes of every description, in short, a perfect medley of
_bric-a-brac_, we hunted up leisurely, sending daily some newly
discovered treasure to our collections.
TROTTING IN RUSSIA.
The trotting during the winter months takes place on the ice, when a
large river or pond is accessible; as, for instance, on the Neva itself
at St. Petersburg, which is the favorite place of all. But a well made
track on the frozen snow is nearly, if not quite, as good, and this can
be found and laid out anywhere. The course, which is one or two versts
long,—the Russian verst is 3501 English feet,—is in the form of an
ellipse; that is, the length of two of the curving sides is much greater
than that of the other two, as is often seen in American tracks, where a
long and narrow piece of ground only can be obtained. But now comes the
great peculiarity of the Russian race, which is, that the horses do not
start or trot together. One starts from a line in the centre of one of
the long sides of the course, while the other starts from a line exactly
opposite and on the other side. Should there be four horses entered they
have two parallel tracks close to each other, and for six horses three
of these ellipses, and so on. When there is more than one track the
effect is most peculiar: for, at the signal for starting, the horses all
seem to be rushing off in different directions.
Then, too, the horses all start from a standstill, each one toeing the
line before the word “go” is given. Of course, in this system, there is
not the excitement of seeing the horses together, changing places, now
one ahead, and now another; those who break held in, and all trying to
secure and keep the pole from the others. They merely trot round the
course at their greatest speed and the one which returns to his goal or
starting point first, is declared the winner. In case of breaking, a
certain number of steps at a gallop only is allowed during the heat, and
any horse that is not brought down into this allotted number is thrown
out of the races by the judges, and loses his chance. It is common to
have a running horse by the side of the trotter to excite him to his
utmost speed, but generally this horse is not harnessed, but is mounted
by a skillful rider, who keeps close alongside of the other, knowing
exactly the pace at which he can go without breaking.
The sleighs used are very light, seemingly made of some kind of
basket-work, and also very low, the driver being seated not more than a
foot off the ground or snow, bracing himself with his feet in a sort of
stirrup on either side. Low vehicles are also used for racing on the
gravel track, and primitive they are in appearance, a narrow board
supported on the axles, with four small wheels nearly the same size, and
the American twowheeled spider-sulky has come into use, as the small
wheeled vehicles detract from the speed, on account of a badly regulated
centre of gravity and excessive friction.
For getting the greatest pulling power out of the horse with the least
fatigue, and leaving all the muscles unimpeded and in full play, the
Russian method of harnessing is excellent. The shafts of the _drosky_ or
sleigh, the collar of the horse and the duga meet at one point on the
horse’s shoulder, and at this point is all the strain of pulling. There
are neither traces nor breeching to interfere with the action. The
collar, made of wood, is carefully fitted to the horse’s neck, and while
the shafts are inclined to press it _against_ the neck, the duga exerts
a corresponding pressure out on either side, and these three parts of
the harness are so lashed together by leather thongs that they remain
firmly in place, and it is a rare sight to find a horse with his neck
galled from exercise.
[Illustration:
A COURSIER.
]
The horses are put on the track very young, at the age of two, three or
four years, and after that time, are found rather to lose than increase
their speed. Perhaps there may be peculiarities in the breed which gives
them their greatest strength when young, or it may be the climate brings
out forces which in milder regions it takes more time to develop.
Certain it is that the Russian horse, of which the Orloff is the
handsomest type, when taken to a foreign country soon loses his grace of
action and fire. At home they are the _beau ideal_ of beauty, with great
natural knee action, arching necks, distended nostrils and flashing
eyes, but it has often happened that the same horse which would attract
the attention of every passer by on the Nevski Prospect, when seen in
the Bois de Boulogne or Hyde Park has lost his distinguishing traits and
seems but an ordinary animal.
As there is always a question as to the beauty of “banging” the horse’s
tail in accordance with the English taste, or of leaving the natural
growth as was more common in America some years ago than at present, I
would state that the tail in Russia is left as nature made it, long and
waving, and sometimes even trailing on the ground. And for another
disputed question, whether or not it is beneficial to clip the horse in
winter, without touching on the numerous arguments which humanity,
convenience and preference have brought plausibly up on either side, I
will simply say that in Russia it is the universal rule to leave the
horses, whether they be for work or for pleasure, with the long-haired
coat, God has given them, untouched all through the months when they
need some protection against the cold.
TO HARNESS A HORSE A LA RUSSE.
First put on the bridle, which is merely a headstall without blinders.
Saddle and surcingle together. Collar and breeching together. Put the
horse in the shafts and put on the hoop, strapping the shafts and hoop
together with a long strap, which is afterwards wound around the shafts.
There is a strap on each shaft just opposite the saddle. The one on the
left shaft goes over the saddle, passing through rings, and is wound
around the right shaft. The one on the right shaft goes through loops
under the surcingle and is wound around the left shaft. These straps
help to keep the shafts firmly in place. The horse pulls from his
collar. The ends of the shafts and hoop must just meet, the hoop going
inside of the shafts and pressing them out. Of the four straps from the
top of the hoop, two go under the check strap and fasten to the bit
ring, and the other two, with the loops through which the reins pass,
are fastened to the shafts, behind the hoop. The bit should be simple
snaffle.
The running horse is on the left side. A strap goes from his bit to the
shaft of the wheeler, passing through the martingale ring. This strap is
quite long, and gives him considerable play. The rein, _only one_, goes
from the outside ring of the bit.
For a pair of horses there are no saddles. The traces are fastened to
leather rings on the collar. A surcingle is fastened on the traces and
passes under each horse, close behind his forelegs.
They always drive with four reins but this is useless.
The ridiculous custom of having blinders over the horse’s eyes is
unknown to the Russians, except as imported from other countries. The
animal is allowed to see for himself on all sides, pleasant or ugly
sights, and is not treated like an infant, whom his human doctors
suppose is going to be frightened at what may meet his gaze. Sensible
both for horse and man is this, as the former doubtless derives pleasure
in his way from the sights of the street or the scenery of the country,
while the latter enjoys seeing what is one of the finest points of a
horse—his eye.
Check reins are happily not a part of the Russian harness.
The men who congregate about the race-course are pretty nearly the same
types in all the nations of the world. There are the elaborate dandies,
known as _petits crévès_ in France, who go because it is the fashion to
see and be seen, whether or not they have any taste for the racing
itself, and can tell one horse from another. There are gentlemen who
really are devoted to the noble animal, who are interested in improving
the breeds, and who, if possessed of fortune, generally have some of
their own stock taking part in the races. Then comes the sporting
fraternity of all degrees, horse dealers sharp for making a good bargain
in buying or selling, trainers, jockeys, stable boys and besides them
plenty of loafers who are there for betting on the race, or for “turning
an honest (?) penny” in any way that their wits suggest.
LETTER TO MY MOTHER.
Moscow, Dec. 27, 1866. This is dated by the Russian calendar, which is
just twelve days behind ours, so you can calculate. I have a few minutes
before going to dine with Cousin Eliza to begin this and I will dip
promiscuously into some of the events of the past week.
THE CHRISTMAS TREE.
Let me see,—Christmas has come and gone for the second time this year,
and we have seen the way it is done in Russia. It is the same old
story—a tree, _arbre de Noël_,—everywhere, though the custom has been
brought here by the Germans.
We went to the Carnatzes about half-past seven, and they being German of
course all the arrangements were _a la mode Allemande_. The tree always
comes off Christmas eve, and is generally a family gathering, gotten up
especially for the amusement of the little ones. A large tree just like
ours at home, greeted our gaze on entering, placed on a table,
brilliantly lighted, covered with all kinds of things, bonbons, gold
balls, etc., topped off with an American flag in compliment to us. The
presents were all lying around on tables, and the tree remains untouched
for a week, so that poor children can come in and enjoy it on different
days.
Charlie and I were not forgotten, and we received each a portfolio
filled with different views of Moscow.
Every guest, on leaving, also, takes a huge box filled with almonds,
sugar plums, cakes, etc., etc., quite enough to make you ill for a week.
The party was not very large, and we broke up just before midnight to go
to the French Catholic church to hear the mass, but the place was
jammed, and we did not stay long. Charlie and I then jumped into our
sleigh, and the great bells of the Kremlin and the neighboring churches
were booming all around.
THE PATRIARCHAL CATHEDRAL.
We wended our way up the hill and pushed into the Patriarchal Cathedral
of Russia, where all the Tsars are crowned, and here we saw the Russian
mass. The crowd was so dense that it was impossible to penetrate more
than a few feet into the church, and we soon left.
THE RUSSIAN BATH.
One evening last week we did the Russian bath. It is perfectly
delicious, a general steaming all over first, and then you are bodily
champooed by the careful attendant,—the soap suds being, so to speak,
whipped in with a bunch of rushes flourished round you,—and then recline
at your ease, as long as you please, and finally cool off with
differently moderated showers of water.
We have made the acquaintance of a Mr. Arnoldi, who has a charming wife.
He is a great lover of horse flesh, and took us over a stable, where we
saw splendid specimens of the different types of the Russian horse, and
afterwards we went to the trotting track and saw the sports with their
fast trotters. The scene was not unlike Riverside Park at home, and very
interesting to me. They want to get up international races.
We afterwards dined with Mr. A., quite _en famille_.
THE MAZOURKA.
We have been to another party at the aunt’s of my lovely Miss M—, and I
again watched her going through the graceful slides of the mazourka.
There are two public balls every night now during the holidays,
sometimes a masquerade at the Nobility Club or the Grand Opera, or again
a dance or concert at the German Club, and so on, but the masquerades,
after Paris, are tame.
The holidays are much made of here, and every one celebrates them by
getting tipsy, for the Russian, besides his everlasting tea, also
manages to dispose of considerable _vodki_, the alcoholic drink of the
country. (Spelled _vodki_ and _vodka_, distilled from rye, also from
potatoes.)
To a hard working Yankee it is odd, the slowness and want of ambition of
all. For instance, Sunday is a holiday, and the day before he prepares
himself for it, and the day after he gets sober, and as there is on the
average one fête day during the week, when the same game is tried, it
does not leave many days for work.
OFF TO ST. PETERSBURG.
Thus you see the days slip along on golden wings, and your _flâneur_
looks with horror on the bore of packing up his traps, but we may be off
on Saturday to St. Petersburg. I have your letter No. 11, with the
Boston gayeties. I will get you some nice postage stamps some time, but
for the present these will suffice. Accept, also, the photograph of
Chawls and myself _à la Russe_, with the Kremlin in the background, and
us in the front, done up in our _shubes_ and boots, and waiting the
approach of many bears. (See frontispiece.)
Fear not for our ears and noses now, for although the thermometer keeps
down steadily in the region of “Niblo” (Meaning zero, an old joke of
First Lieutenant Peleg W. Blake of the Fifth Mass. Battery, who when
speaking of the weather always called zero “Niblo,”) we are much more
comfortable in the streets than we are at home, where it seems to be the
fashion to be cold always out of doors.
The photographs of Moscow are the best in the world. (I had never seen
such beautifully glazed ones at that time.) We do not get much news here
about Americans, as there is no French paper in Moscow, and even if
there were there would be no time to read it, we are in such a whirl of
excitement. Going to bed at four gives you a short morning.
[Illustration:
THE STAIGG PORTRAIT.
]
I read the President’s (Johnson’s) message with interest, and great
satisfaction in regard to everything except the internal politics of the
United States. How pleasant, too, is the report of the Treasury. People
here look upon our diminishing debt with perfect amazement. Indeed the
influence which our country is giving to the world is more perceptible
every day and very noticeable here.
We are of course much interested in the great yacht race, and want
brother Tom to come over in the Spring, and give the graceful little
_Alice_ another wetting in the Channel. Tell him she must not go home in
May. I want to sail in her once in the summer. What a carnival there
will be in Paris, and how much nicer to be a “swell” in Moscow than an
individual in the former.
Well, adieu. Nate.
FROM MY MOTHER IN BOSTON.
THE STAIGG PORTRAIT.
Dec. 27, 1866.
You can judge of my amazement, my excitement, on going up to the
drawing-room after dinner on Christmas Day, to find before my eyes a
portrait of you, my dear Nathan, gracefully standing with your arm
holding the bridle of your horse, and looking so like life that I really
started, reading the announcement, put on by Hattie:—“By Atlantic
Telegraph, St. Petersburg. A Merry Christmas!”—Why, I felt that it had
actually come from there! It is a charming picture. What a villain you
are! Of course it is not finished, and is to go back to have some
alterations.
Oh you sly boy! Coming up from Lynn (Our summer home at the beach.)
every day to give me this delightful surprise! _I thank you._
We had a charming Christmas dinner, and, will you believe it? the
presents for the third time were so hid they had great difficulty in
finding them, and some were obliged to be told.
NEW YEAR’S DAY IN MOSCOW.
Russ., January 2, 1867.
I begin you this, Dear “Mum,” from Moscow, but I may finish it in St.
Petersburg. Children of chance, that we are, how dare we calculate on
even the events of a few days? With this moral question at the
beginning, I will tell you that we are still here, and have been through
various adventures. Among others was the dedication of a church in the
Russo Greek style, and the magnates of the city thought we had better
see it. I did not object, as a dinner formed an important feature.
Accordingly, one of the selectmen of Moscow routed us out of bed, and I
gave him audience in my _robe de nuit_, and after he had conversed some
time in Russ he thought matters would be expedited by an interpreter. I
soon discovered that his sleigh was at the door, and that he wanted us
to be off, so I hastened, and was ready,—Charlie following in our sleigh
with Curtin.—He wore a medal and his horse was a high stepper. We soon
reached the church, and had standing places of honor, _vide_ Moscow
_Gazette_ of the next day with our distinguished names in Russian
print,—for above three and a half hours, and we were not sorry to rattle
off to the good dinner, which the opulent merchant, who had given the
church, had had prepared for his guests. The lunch was stunning,
entirely _à la Russe_, with some little wrinkles I mean to remember, and
the _menu_ on very gorgeous frosted paper, and a photograph of the
church under each plate. We returned from our day’s work very much
satisfied.
The society of this place is quite funny. We have got into the very
“swell” little clique of the town, the Faubourg Saint Beacon Street of
Moscow, and like the same set in our own blessed “Hub,” it is a close
oligarchy with an endless array of cousins. The other evening we saw a
most pretty phase of the holidays. About twenty young ladies and
cavaliers of this set, with one or two matrons, went round the town in
masquerade with fancy domino costumes, stopping at half a dozen
different houses, at each of which they would dance once, with a supper
later. Chawls and I went to two of the houses to see them and the effect
was stunning; a postillion rushing in first, and then the others
following in couples, Poles, Spaniards, and Tartars, Folly, a Cook, a
Baby and her Nurse, &c., and so on. The coachman and footman, even, were
in mask, to make the disguise as complete as possible, but we soon
discovered our friends.
I think we will try it in Boston next winter.
The society of the merchant families is quite another set, but as they
have the money now their entertainments are on a most gorgeous scale.
NEW YEAR’S DAY.
After all how like people are in all countries. This is well shown by
yesterday, the Russian New Year’s Day. We got up a very “swell” trap,—a
trotter and a runner by his side,—and went about slaughtering all our
acquaintances. It was precisely the same as in New York, except that
they gave you no grub anywhere, nor wine, though we did see one
inebriate youth driving off. Every one always drives about the city and
you get into the state of being unable to walk ten steps. You wo’n’t do
it. Sleighs are very cheap, and the distances are very great, so that
you keep your sleigh about you as an indispensable companion, from
twelve noon until after midnight. The coachman follows you round like a
dog, merely going off to feed his horses some time in the afternoon.
With all this it is strange that the Russians never drive themselves,
and no matter how fine the horses of the gay youth of the city, and how
elegant his equipage, the coachman always drives. Perhaps this is
because horses are a necessity, not a luxury, and having to drive so
much every day you do not care to do it yourself. I think I, myself,
with all my fondness for horses, would soon be indisposed to drive in
Russia.
THE RUSSIAN GROOM.
The “swell” groom here has a _chic_ quite his own, and totally different
from the London “tiger,” which has spread over the rest of the continent
and America. My “Tom,” with his neat tights and top boots, carefully
trimmed whiskers and square shoulders is very different from your
bearded Russian coachman, the stouter the better, with lozenged-shaped,
pin-cushion like, velvet hat, long tunic with a gorgeous colored sash
and big boots. They drive with both arms stretched out at full length,
and have four reins for a single pair of horses.
Tuesday, p.m.: I will finish this off now and take it on with me to St.
Petersburg, tomorrow, to mail it there, as we have decided to change our
base, in fact, having slaughtered all the fair ones of Moscow, and
having left a good impression, it is much better to make our bows and
retire quickly.
I have been skating today and yesterday with a most bright and
attractive young lady, the Princess G—— (Princess Julie Gagarine now for
years Madame la Princesse Ourousoff, one of the same great family
represented at the Races on the Newport beach in 1866.) a cousin of the
beautiful Miss M——. Being in mourning we have not seen her in society.
She goes to St. Petersburg in a few days where we shall meet her again.
We go to our last party tonight. Private theatricals and a ball
afterwards. Last evening a _soirée musicale_ at the Martinoffs, and a
dance later at another house.
We go to St. Petersburg to be quiet(?) as you imagine, and we shall
arrive just in time for the “Blessing of the Neva,” breakfast at the
Winter Palace, Review of Troops, etc., etc., and from now until Lent we
shall have all we want of gayety.
Adieu, oh Moscow! with thy Kremlin and gilded turrets, thy fair
princesses, thy fast horses, thy caviar and thy mazourka. Fain would we
linger here, but the hand of time points onward, and the vague sensation
of joys now past, vibrates in the brain!
I have some little packages for you and Hattie from Coz. Eliza, which
will I hope reach you safely some day. I am off now to bid her good bye.
Nate.
FROM MY SISTER IN BOSTON.
January 8, 1867.
Your letter from St. Petersburg arrived by the same steamer that brought
Mr. Burgess and little Billy’s blue suit, for both of which many thanks.
I wish you could see the little man in the jacket and cap, he looks
awful cunning, and the color just suits his complexion. They are just
the right size, and all beholders say “How remarkable that a young man
like Mr. Appleton should know just what to get for a baby like that!”
The worsted work for the old lady was also a great success. She thinks
it the funniest thing she ever saw. And all this page and not a word yet
about the picture!
THE STAIGG PORTRAIT. THE SURPRISE.
... I took Elias (The old family servant.) into the secret, and he was
so important, and so excited with it that I never expected he would get
through waiting on table that dinner, without smashing something. You
know we got it into the house very quietly, during church time, and hid
it on the back piazza, and Elias got it up into the drawing-room while
we were eating dinner, and coming down made such telegraphic signals
that Erny (Ernest Longfellow) who was next me, said, “What has come over
Elias? he is winking and making such faces at you. There’s some immense
secret!”
As I had not my “eyes” on it was unfortunately thrown away. When Mamma
did get up and saw it, she was fairly terrified, apparently thinking you
were there yourself in some incomprehensible way. I don’t know but she
will pull down “Rosalie” to have a place to hang it. Brother Tom takes a
great interest in it, and brings artists to see it, who mostly think it
Staigg’s best work.... Dear me. I have not told you about the piano we
are having constructed to match our book cases, and with Mr. Staigg’s
first sketch of you inserted in a panel,—truly lovely!
ON THE 11TH MY MOTHER WROTE:—
Your brother Tom has just been in to read a letter from Charlie. He was
quite excited in hearing about Russia, and really wished he was with you
to enjoy something so new. He would have been a great addition, and
talked French and made everything as jolly as possible. He hopes that
you have made known that you were officers in the army and wounded men,
and I trust it is understood that C. A. L. is son of the “great poet.”
Your letters stir us all up, and though this is not a regular writing
day, I could not resist telling you how much we enjoy hearing from you.
The “presentation” must have been rather a trial, not speaking French
fluently. How T. G. A. would have rattled it off! He rather wonders that
he came home. Of course the yachting will take him out in the Spring. We
have now fine sleighing, and he is every day on the Brighton road, but
not a “fascinating hood” is to be seen; all the women with veils tied
tight over their faces. T. G. A. drives his pair and has some damsels
with him.
Monday Eve: Little Billy (Curtis) came to see his Grandma this morning
in full French costume; his pretty blue coat and hat, and Astrachan fur.
It is lovely and very becoming to the little man.
All are so charmed with your picture. It gives life and light to the old
house. I cannot bear to part with it, and I believe Staigg does not
consider it finished.
I am glad you have nice quiet apartments, and are not at a hotel. Please
be moderate, and do not dash about and make yourself conspicuous. It is
foreign to the family name.
LETTER FROM GEO. B. SHATTUCK.
“Boston. January 8, 1867.
My dear Nathan.
A visit to No. 39, a few days since, and the exhibition of your portrait
by Staigg, spurred me up to an undertaking which I have long been
proposing to myself, answering a letter which you wrote to me before
your departure and after mine from San Francisco, and which was
forwarded to me here.... I was much pleased with your picture, and
thought it an excellent likeness for the number of sittings I was told
you had.
Of course, as is the duty of a good artist, he exerts his best effort
that your personal pulchritude may not suffer, and the war-horse, etc.
is rather in the style of General Washington. You ought to have had your
negro “Joe” brought into the picture holding the charger. The horse, as
well as I could judge from a short inspection, is well done, and
surprisingly so, if, as Mrs. Appleton told me, this is Staigg’s first
horse. I speak so at length as I suppose the thing to have been
completed since you left home.”
[Illustration:
ROSALIE.
]
ALLSTON’S ROSALIE.
The picture of “Rosalie” by Washington Allston, mentioned in my sister’s
letter as hanging in the drawing-room at 39 Beacon street, and to which
the author addressed some exquisite verses, became mine after the death
of my father, at whose request it was painted.
It was in 1835, that my half-sister, the wife of the poet Longfellow,
then Miss Frances Elizabeth Appleton, made a copy, which I now have in
her own handwriting, of the following verse which was added by Allston
some time after the original three verses were composed:—
“So, at that dreamy hour of day
When the last lingering ray
Stops on the highest cloud to play,
So thought the gentle Rosalie,
As in her maiden reverie,
First fell the strain of him who stole
In music to her soul.”
The original three verses are as follows:—
“Oh! pour upon my soul again
That sad unearthly strain
That seems from other worlds to plain;
Thus falling, falling, from afar,
As if some melancholy star
Had mingled with her light her sighs,
And dropped them from the skies.
· · · · ·
No—’tis not born of aught below,
That melting breath of wo
Which now doth o’er my spirit flow;
Waking the deeply-seated springs
Of silent joy; that round me flings
This nameless light—if light it be—
That veils the world I see.
For every form around me wears
The hue of other spheres:
And something mixed of smiles and tears
Comes from the very air I breathe.
Oh, nothing, sure, the stars beneath
Can mold a sadness like to this—
So like angelic bliss.” —_Wa. Allston._
These three verses have the signature as given above, in the copy in my
possession. To the peculiar circumstances under which the picture was
painted, an allusion is made in a letter to my brother Tom in Paris, by
Mr. Tom Kemper Davis in Boston, a member of the legal profession with a
strong leaning toward literary pursuits.
THOMAS SULLY.
“Sully, the artist,” he wrote, “is in town. I went with him yesterday
and bowed at the shrine of the divine ‘Rosalie’. Sully’s first
exclamation, after gazing some time at the picture, was,—
‘Raphael and Titian combined!’
Allston, by the way, has in conversation with me frequently alluded to
your father’s purchase of this picture, and as I never heard him allude
before to any like transaction. The manner in which the thing was done
seems to have touched his heart.”
When they went to see it, the picture hung in the drawing-room of our
old house, 39 Beacon street. That the artist Sully may have had a
personal interest in the “Rosalie,” was suggested to me by a letter from
the pen of a Washington correspondent of the New York _Daily Graphic_,
signed “Mary E. Nealy,” which I chanced to see. I, being then in London,
addressed a letter to this correspondent from 449 Strand, the Reading
Room and Exchange of Robert Bowles, dated October 26, 1875, in the
following words:—
“I noticed in a recent number of the _Graphic_, a letter of yours from
Washington, in which you gave quite a long account of a collection of
pictures painted by Sully. My attention was attracted to it by what you
say of ‘Rosalie’, and the verses written by Allston, because I am the
owner of the painting of ‘Rosalie’, which Washington Allston painted,
and for which he wrote the verses.
This picture was painted for my late father and hung by the direction of
Allston himself at our house, where it has remained many years, the
admiration of all. Should you ever go to Boston, I think it will give
you pleasure to see it.
I always supposed that the name was merely a fancy one, but what you say
of Allston’s intimacy with Sully and his family, makes me believe that
quite probably the name was taken from one of Sully’s daughters, and as
such it may even be a sort of portrait of her.”
I closed by asking for further information in regard to the original of
the picture, and received the following reply:—
MARY E. NEALY TO N. A.
618 Sixth Street, Washington City, D. C.
Nov. 18, 1875.
Your letter of enquiry in regard to the portrait of “Rosalie” by
Allston was duly received. Colonel Wheeler does not know about it, and
Mrs. Wheeler, formerly Ellen Sully, being married before her sister
Rosalie was grown, does not _know_ that the verses were inspired by
her sister, but thinks it highly probable, as Mr. Allston admired her
very much. She was very beautiful, as well as talented, but died at an
early age. Mrs. Wheeler could tell you certainly about your picture if
she could see a photograph of it.
I will be happy to call and see the picture if I ever go to Boston,
and thank you kindly for the privilege and the invitation. I have been
intensely interested in his pictures, and think that few artists ever
created more lovely female heads. I have an old annual called _The
Gift_, published in Philadelphia, in 1842. On the title page is a
lovely vignette head, which Col. Wheeler says is Rosalie Sully. If I
could send it to you without spoiling my book I would do so. But the
more simple way would be for you to photograph your painting.
P. S. This is a handsome and youthful brunette, with a spirited yet
most lovely and womanly expression. Her hand supports her head, and
the dark rich curls fall carelessly about her face. Sully painted his
daughters in many positions and in various characters, and many female
heads of his, supposed to be imaginary, are portraits of his own loved
ones.
_The Gift_, edition of 1842, is in the Boston Athenæum Library. The
second picture on the title page really does look like “Rosalie” but
younger.
Allston died in Cambridge, Mass., July 9, 1843. Mrs. Jameson, the
English author, in her Memoir of Washington Allston, January 1, 1844,
gives the following description:—
“‘Rosalie Listening to Music.’ The figure of a young girl, life-size
and three-quarters. She has been reading. The hand which holds the
book has dropped: the other is pressed on her bosom. The head a little
raised. Rapt, yet melancholy attention in the opening eyes and parted
lips. The coloring deep, delicate, rich.
When I first saw this picture, in the drawing-room of Mr. Appleton of
Boston, I had never seen Allston, did not even recollect his name. It
at once so captivated my attention, that I could not take my eyes from
it, even though one who might well have sat for a Rosalie was at my
side. I thought I had never beheld such a _countenance_, except in
some of the female heads of Titian or Palma. Yet the face was not what
would be termed _beautiful_; and oh, how far from the sentimental,
ringletted prettiness of our fashionable painters!
When I afterwards asked Mr. Allston whether his poem of ‘Rosalie’ had
suggested the picture, or the picture the stanzas, he replied, that,
‘as well as he could recollect, the conception of the poem and of the
picture had been simultaneous in his mind.’ He received for this
picture 1,200 dollars, about £250.”
The “Rosalie” was exhibited at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition in
1876, and a lithograph was published by James R. Osgood & Co., Boston,
in a collection entitled “Massachusetts Artists’ Centennial Album,
1876.” The description is as follows:—
“This picture was painted in 1835. It represents a beautiful girl
seated, facing the spectator, with one hand upon her bosom, and the
fingers of the other between the leaves of a red book which she holds
upon one knee. A piece of dark-brown drapery thrown across the lap
nearly hides the blue of the skirt. The waist of the dress is of gray,
with white sleeves, and is bound to the form by a yellow girdle. The
background is a dull red curtain with a gray column at the left. The
picture is owned by Mr. Nathan Appleton. The illustration is a
heliotype made from the original.”
I loaned it for some years to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, and in
1893, it was exhibited at the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago. I
afterward sold it to my brother W. S. Appleton, and it is now at 462
Beacon Street, Boston.
MY BROTHER TOM AND ALLSTON.
LETTER FROM T. G. A. TO MRS. SAMUEL APPLETON.
31st August, 1844.
Ashby de la Zouch.
I have been a week with Lady S. and her husband Mr. Smith Wright, not
far from here. Lady S. is famous for her taste in flowers. Her
conservatory is superb, and her white “yackas” unrivalled. She has a
sister like “_ma chere Mire_” in Miss Bremer, with a wonderful face for
energy. She is 87, but quick as a girl, a very clever botanist as well,
and corresponding with all the best botanists in England. I drove and
rode and walked over the country; magnetized a little, and drew a
little, and so the hours flew. The Everetts were there a bit, and then
flew to Scotland. To show how kind a man Mr. Smith Wright is,—he it was
at Rome who got the Protestant burial ground enclosed, and did away with
the burial by torchlight of old time. He is president of the Mechanics’
Institute at Nottingham. I shall hope to see these excellent friends
again. I am the first American who ever visited them.
Yesterday Lady S. drove me to Sir George Beaumont’s, wishing herself to
see Allston’s picture, I had so interested her in him. On the way there
she told me how odd a person the present Sir George was,—the nephew of
the famous art patron,—He received us at his superb porch in a blouse,
with a funny white hat on, and was in great spirits to see us.... He
took us over the fine house, a miracle of taste, as was everything of
his uncle’s, and at length into a glass conservatory-like gallery he had
built to hold the over abounding pictures. Here were all the first good
things of Wilkie, Leslie, etc., which Sir George bought to encourage the
young artists, but Sir G.’s own sketches were as interesting as any, and
as good. The last one he was upon when he fell with apoplexy was
peculiarly so. It represented boys playing over water upon a fallen
tree, and every figure was in danger. Sir G. considered this very
curious, so anticipating his own situation.
I mentioned Allston. He jumped. “I’ll show you a picture of his,”—and he
ran for the key. It is in a lovely gray stone church, close to the
house, a sort of guardian angel to the place.
Allston’s picture is the only one in the church. It is the one he often
spoke to me about. It is ill placed, and ill lit, but wonderfully fine.
An angel in white with sky blue scarf fluttering, points, while standing
on the steps, to the prison door with a radiant hand, while Peter lifts
a majestic face, heavy with sleep, upon the Angelus from between his
bent and drowsy guards.
There is a huge _patine_ of moonlight breaking through the grates of the
prison above.... The angel’s hair is nut brown and a little too pretty
for so sacred a subject. It reminded me of “Rosalie’s” which is womanly,
not angelic. The figures are life size and the picture one of Allston’s
fine ones tho’ not equal to the “Jeremiah,” “Miriam” or “Balshazzar.”
We spent hours in wandering through the grounds....
Oh! the dairy, you should see that! An arched alcove, all _tiles_ above
and below, rows of huge cream bowls standing upon marble slabs, and a
fountain coolly splashing from an antique mask at one end. This gem of a
dairy was dead Lady Beaumont’s doing.
There were poems of Wordsworth cut in stone about the walks. He was a
great friend of the former Sir George, and I saw a stone seat, the rock
cut, in which he wrote many of his poems. When one thinks of this lovely
place and the great men, Sir George, Allston, Wordsworth, and Beaumont
and Fletcher,—this is one of the family,—perhaps Shakespeare, one must
allow this to be almost unmatched as a country seat.
On page 67, of brother Tom’s volume of poems entitled “Faded Leaves,” in
one addressed to Allston after seeing his “Peter delivered from Prison”
at Colcorton Hall, in Wordsworth’s winter garden, may be found the
following stanzas:—
“A portion of thy soul divine
Is fitly shrined in yon meek aisle
Where arching roofs in prayer incline,
And chasten all the silent pile.
· · · · ·
Ah! yes, dear Allston, from the bars
And dungeon of this mortal sphere,
At length thy spirit seeks the stars,
Free in their happier atmosphere.”
FROM MY MOTHER AT BOSTON.
“February 24, 1867.
I do think you are having splendid times. The last princess seems to be
the loveliest. And then the furs, and the slippers, and the table
covers, and the malachite! Oh, what a boy!
Mr. Sayles (Henry Sayles) and Ned Brown (Edward Ingersol Brown) called
to see me and were so much pleased with your picture. (Staigg portrait.)
They were told you _really sent_ a telegram from St. Petersburg on
Christmas Day, and thought it so like you to do it. W. S. A. is in
pursuit of a second pair for his four-in-hand. I do not approve so much
display.”
In another letter my mother observes parenthetically:—“You must remember
I am an old lady and belong to the old school of manners and propriety,
which has sadly changed since my day.”
[Illustration:
THE BLESSING OF THE NEVA. ILL. LONDON NEWS.
]
CHAPTER SIXTH.
ST. PETERSBURG. THE NEVA. NOVGOROD. POLAND.
“We look into each other’s eyes,
And see a friendly peace which says,
While on the snowy Cossack flies,
‘Rave ye without, here Quiet stays.’
This silent, unexpressed delight
Glows brighter so severely set:
Heart-warm against the stormy white,
The Rose of Joy burns warmer yet.”
—_Thomas Gold Appleton_
_A Snow Storm_, Jan. 17, 1867.
THE BLESSING OF THE NEVA.
St. Petersburg, Jan’y 20, 1867.
My dear Mama.
Here we are back at the capital, where we were most enthusiastically
received by our hostess Madame Octavie, who expressed great joy at
seeing her “little Americans” safely returned, and installed us into our
old apartments.
Your letters came the next day, with accounts of Christmas festivities
at home, and the prospective party for New Year.
I am so glad that the portrait _à la militaire_ has been accomplished
enough to show what it is, and that the likeness is good, and the whole
thing gives pleasure. I rather pride myself upon it, for the idea of the
composition and pose was quite my own, and the secrecy with which it has
all been done is commendable.
Driving down the Nevski from the Moscow station St. Petersburg looked
_so_ funny, not in the least like a Russian city, but a great, sprawling
capital, and they tell us it is not gay here at all, especially after
Moscow. No balls at Court as yet, as the government is not very rich
just now, and after the tremendous expenses of entertaining our fleet
last summer, and later all the gorgeous display connected with the
wedding of the Tsarevitch, they are really trying to economize a bit.
This is good theoretically, but not for us individually, and I hope we
shall see one big ball at the Winter Palace.
The morning after our return was the day of the ceremony of the baptism
of the Neva, which the Emperor attends. We received invitations to the
Palace to go with the Diplomatic Corps, and although we could not see
much of the performance outside,—and how the poor fellows, Tsar,
priests, and “strikers” have to suffer with uncovered heads in the
bitter cold,—we got a very good idea of the male portion of the Russian
court in the Palace, and afterwards enjoyed an excellent breakfast. It
was quite striking to see us, the only two civilians in the big throng
of officers, courtiers and diplomats, and it was a pleasant feeling that
the grandeur of America does not go in for outside display.
We dined yesterday at the English Club with Curtin, the best one in the
city, and English only in name, and later played Russian nine-pins with
a party of officers.
I skated, also, on the Neva Club grounds, which have been carefully
arranged during our absence, and it was very jolly there, with music and
all the swells of the city. The costumes are very effective, and add
much to the brilliancy of the scene, those of the gentlemen being quite
as elaborate as of the ladies, velvet jackets and tight fitting tunics
trimmed with fur and slashed _à la Polenaise_, with Knickerbockers and
leggings. It is strange that if a gentleman with us should attempt to
wear such a costume, elegant, comfortable, and appropriate for the ice,
he would be set down as a snob. The democratic principle of every one
always wearing the same style of raiment on all occasions may, perhaps,
be good, but it certainly takes away much from the beauty of any
assemblage of human beings.
The ladies were much as in New York or Jamaica Pond, with the addition
of the omnipresent _basilisk_ or hood, made of different colored cloth,
and trimmed with gold or silver braid. We mean to bring several of them
home, as there is nothing prettier or more genuinely Russian here to
take away, and for a lady to wear sleigh-riding they are perfect. I hope
to see some of my own on the Brighton road next winter.
Today was held the first race of the season on the river, but it was so
very cold that it was not particularly amusing to witness. The horses
look fine, parading about covered with Persian blankets. Monday morning.
Very early! We start in a few minutes on an excursion of two or three
days to Novgorod the Great, once the capital of Russia, and I have just
time to seal this up without finishing it.
Therefore in haste, Nathan.
FOX’S MISSION TO RUSSIA.
The reference in my letter to our fleet and its presence in Russia is to
Fox’s mission. On the 16th of May, 1866, the President of the United
States, Andrew Johnson, signed a joint resolution passed by Congress,
congratulating the twenty million serfs upon the providential escape
from assassination of the Emperor Alexander II., by the hand of an enemy
of emancipation, and in order to give additional significance to the
act, Congress selected the Hon. Gustavus Vasa Fox, assistant secretary
of the navy during the entire period of the war for the Preservation of
the Union, to perform the delicate mission of carrying this resolution
to the Emperor of Russia. He was sent in the two turreted monitor
_Miantonomoh_, a class of vessel which had never before crossed the
Atlantic, and the _Augusta_ and _Ashuelot_, two wooden men-of-war,
accompanied the _Miantonomoh_.
August 6 (July 23) 1866, the fleet arrived in the harbor of Cronstadt,
on the 17th the Tsar sent the address acknowledging the visit of Mr.
Fox, and on Saturday, September 15 (3d) Mr. Fox left Saint Petersburg,
after a farewell breakfast given on the Russian yacht _Rurik_ at which
Lieutenant General Greig said in a speech while presenting a medal
struck in memory of the enfranchisement of the peasants:—
“He will see on it the likeness of our blessed sovereign, and the effigy
of a nobleman and of a peasant.”
A narrative of this mission to Russia from the Journal and Notes of J.
F. Loubat (Duc deLoubat) was published in 1873, and presented to me in
New York, by the author, September 28th of the same year.
THE CEREMONY OF BLESSING THE WATERS.
In some notes made in February, 1879, and printed in the Boston
_Advertiser_ under the title “_Outre Mer_,” I referred to the occasion
of the annual benediction of the Neva, a rite of the Orthodox Church
commemorative of the baptism of the Saviour, when the Tsar takes his
position in an open chapel built out on the quay, and the ice below
having been broken the Metropolitan blesses the waters and the cross is
dipped therein three times:—
“It takes place just opposite the Winter Palace, and all the guests
witness it comfortably from the windows of one of the large rooms of the
palace, while the Tsar and the priests and those who actually
participate in it have to go out with bare heads in the cold and take
some of the water from the frozen Neva, which they can only get through
a hole made in the ice. It is principally a religious service, with
rites performed upon a handsome platform, with a canopy above, erected
for it between the palace and the water. It does not last long, and in
this instance the Emperor and his suite might well have been glad to get
out of the intense cold when it was over.
We had some difficulty that day, my companion and myself, in getting up
to the door of the Winter Palace. We had our cards of invitation all
correct, indicating where we should go, and we supposed that our
_invostchik_, or the driver of the sleigh we used every day, understood
it perfectly. But it seems he did not, and we were stopped by a mounted
soldier to whom we could not talk a word, while we brandished the card
before him. But this did not work, and we had to turn back. We were at
our wits’ ends, determined if possible not to miss the sight, and I
suggested that we should drive at once to the United States Minister’s
residence, General Clay, to see if we could not find his servant, or
some one who would act as pilot. On the road we met our commissionaire
whom we had dismissed at the hotel, thinking we should not need him, and
took him in front with the driver.
“A FRIEND AT COURT.”
As it was then rather late we drove up to the nearest door of the
palace, but not the one designated for us to enter on the card. There we
met one of the young officers of the imperial household whose
acquaintance we had made at our regular presentation to the Tsar some
weeks before, and, explaining to him our dilemma he said it was all
right, and put us in charge of a _chasseur_, who was to conduct us to
our proper places. He was a gorgeously dressed fellow, with a very tall
plume in his hat, and slowly took us along through the endless _salons_
of the building, which were filled with people,—ladies in the
galleries,—and at length reached the room set apart for the Diplomatic
Corps and distinguished strangers who happened to be in St. Petersburg,
where we had a view of the ceremonies.”
A COUSINLY VIEW.
FROM MY COUSIN AT MOSCOW TO MY MOTHER.
Moscow, January 22, 1867.
My dear Cousin.
About a month ago, as I was standing at the window, I saw two gentlemen
stop at our door, with very English faces as I thought. I was surprised,
for I expected no visitors from abroad, but how much greater was my
surprise when the two gentlemen were introduced as Mr. Appleton and Mr.
Longfellow.
You may well imagine my joy at seeing some of my American relations at
last. Their stay in Moscow was for me a perfect enjoyment. I had such
pleasure in seeing them, and saw them as often as was possible, for they
had so many invitations from all sides that they could hardly find time
to answer them all: they went very much among the nobility.
Nathan admired the Russian ladies much and teased me all the time by
saying he would marry a Russian Princess or a Polish countess. I said I
would not acknowledge him after that, he must remain constant to the
American beauties. He left Moscow, however, with the firm intention of
falling desperately in love with the first fairy princess he met in St.
Petersburg. I trust, however, that the 30 degrees of frost we have at
the present moment will freeze his heart so as not to admit any warmer
feeling into it, and prevent melting away those he brought with him from
America.
You may well think, dear cousin, how much Nathan and Charles had to tell
us about you all, and it seems as if since I know them the ocean has
disappeared between us, and we are brought nearer to each other. How
much I should like to see you and know you all, and always will regret
not to have gone over to Boston during the three months I stayed in
Ostend, some twelve years ago. I should have then seen our dear
Grandmamma, let me call her thus, dear cousin, for she was to me more
than ever an aunt could be.
How much I value the beautiful pin you sent me is needless to say.
Receive my warmest and sincerest thanks for this kind attention, and
believe me, dear cousin, that I shall always wear the pin, so dear to
me, in remembrance of our dear Grandmamma and of yourself.
How do you like Nathan’s and Charles’s photograph in their furs? (See
frontispiece.) We admire it much, and I claimed one for my album.
Kiss the dear baby for me. I sent him a pair of little red Russian
boots, which I hope he will be able to wear by the time they reach him.
Good bye, dear cousin, write to me sometimes, and tell me something
about our travellers that interest me much. My husband begs to be kindly
remembered to you and your dear family.
Most affectionately,
Eliza Carnatz.
NOVGOROD.
TO MY MOTHER.
Saint Petersburg,
January 28, 1867.
_Ma chère Maman._
Our little trip to Novgorod was most successful. We went down the
railroad about 70 miles, to Tchudova, and there took the _troikas_ and
the funniest vehicle imaginable, in which you lie down on the hay and
are covered up with felt and skins. We made our forty-five miles in a
few hours, arriving at the town in time for supper and bed.
The next morning we set about seeing the sights of the place, which are
very few, the old church of St. Sophia and the modern monument
celebrating the 1000th anniversary of Russia.
What a quaint old place, with its Kremlin, and its white yellow
churches, and everything so Russian!
[Illustration:
THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE.
]
I found a fascinating antiquary, who would have driven Billy crazy, in
his gown and skull cap. He had a book store in his house, with
curiosities and minerals, and I bought a Russian missal of the 14th
century (I afterwards gave it to the Boston Public Library.) and a few
coins and odds and ends.
[Illustration:
SKATING IN THE YOUSOUPOFF GARDEN.
]
THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE.
We made the journey home by night, with the mercury near zero, and cold
enough it was. I had two pairs of gloves on, and mittens over them, and
was just comfortable. We rattled along over the snow, with a bright
moon, and clear, cold stars, stopping now and then at wayside inns to
drink tea and warm up.
Nothing have we done more Russ than our midnight drive from Novgorod.
Yesterday we dined with the Count Besborodko, the one who owns the
“swell” palace I mentioned in a previous letter. The dinner was good,
the company gay, the Countess charming, and never in my life was I so
_en train_ to speak French easily. I surprised myself. We came home
early, changed our dress, and went for a little while to the fête of the
Yacht Club Skating ground, which was brilliantly illuminated with
lanterns, grottoes of ice with Bengal lights thrown upon them, stuffed
bears, pretty toilettes, etc. etc.—music.
ISLA.
But even this was not enough for the evening, so off we go to Isla, a
café, theatre, skating ground combined, a few miles into the country,
where there are life size statues made of ice in the garden.
Shall we go to the _bal masqué_ at the Opera House? No, it will hardly
pay to put on our funereals twice the same evening, so go to bed
quietly, and good night!
Since my last return here I have been making many purchases preparatory
to leaving the place.
Your beautiful sables have been selected, paid for and packed up, and I
hope they will come home in safety.
MY CIRCASSIAN UNIFORM.
“‘Brave in battle,’ ‘eloquent in assembly,’ are great titles in
Circassia. But he who is the ‘most hospitable’ wears the brightest
crown of all.... A Circassian is always a Circassian.”
—_Colonel Richard Henry Savage._
“A land of the sword and spear, of the chase and mighty
woodcraft—Circassia.”
—_R. H. S._ 1876.
LETTER TO MY MOTHER CONTINUED.
I have got Master Will a Circassian overcoat for winter, and myself a
Circassian uniform, for fancy balls at home, very handsome and effective
it is too. Charlie has had a Russian dress made for the same object. I
have picked up in the Bazaar some nice things in the way of
arms,—pistols, daggers and swords, and am looking for some chain armor.
Today I bought all the malachite I want, a few pretty pieces only. My
Russian harness has come, and very nice it is, so light and graceful.
Look out for me on the avenue next summer crying “_berages_,” Russian
for “Look out!” “Take care!”
I have bought you a lovely Persian table cloth and myself a cover for an
easy chair for smoking.
[Illustration:
CIRCASSIAN UNIFORM.
]
We went the other evening to see the Davenport Brothers, who are here
now, and as luck would have it I was drawn by lot to tie one of them in
the box. Funny that way out in Russia they should be tied up by a fellow
countryman. There was quite a party of us Americans there, and we
chatted with them after the performance. It was very good and just what
I have often seen.
29th. Morning:—I have just received a big packet of letters; among them
one from Georgie Shattuck. He gives me a very good idea of just what is
going on in Boston.
Last eve we were again at the Opera, in the Pierces’ box. The Barber of
Seville—I have often heard it—with an ugly prima-donna. Tonight we go
first to a ballet, “Meteora,” and after to a ball at Lady Buchanan’s the
English ambassadress, and, perhaps, at two o’clock, to a costume ball at
one of the Clubs. Saturday next is my birthday, and I am to give a
gentlemen’s dinner to Russians and Americans.
I have many things here which are not completed, and I want all my
purchases well packed up and directed, before I leave the place, and,
try as hard as you please, it is difficult to accomplish much each day.
We made the acquaintance a few days past of the Souworoff family, the
descendants of the great old fighter whose sabre rang all over Europe.
The young princess was very nice and jolly, and did not like it that her
mother would not let her skate and flirt. The old party was eminently
proper and conservative in all her ideas, and reminded me of several
ladies in Boston I might perhaps mention.
We passed one evening last week quietly with Mr. Prince, as he was very
desirous we should. What are you going to do this summer? Will quiet
Lynn content you, or is it Niagara, Saratoga, or Newport? Go in for a
house there, and I will come home by the first of August, in time for
the season. I hear the Americans are cutting great rigs in Paris. Thank
Mr. Burgess for me for the arrival of the package. Breakfast being
ready, 12 m., I will say in the last words of many French comedies, “à
table”.
Nate.
THE COSTUME BALL AT DELMONICO’S.
“Send me a dream tonight,
A dream of the boy-time days,
Stop for me the shuttle of Time
That ever so swiftly plays—
A dream of the other days,
When the sky was ever bright—
Unravel the warp and woof of years—
Send me a dream tonight.”
—_Baltimore American_, April, 1900.
From a journal of a visit to New York and Philadelphia, made in March
and April, 1875, I extract the following written in my den, 788
Broadway, Room 16, New York, April 11th:—
“Since I left Boston, nearly three weeks ago, I have been through some
such interesting experiences that I must certainly record them in my
diary. But it is no easy thing to catch them as they go by, so rapid a
life do we lead in the great cities and so full of movement is the time,
still, I will try.”
The event of the season among the few hundred persons who make up the
fashionables of New York society, was the _Bal Costumé_ given at
Delmonico’s by thirty gentlemen on Easter Monday, March 29, 1875.
I was invited to take part in the Oriental Quadrille gotten up by Miss
Minnie Stevens (Daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Paran Stevens, and afterwards
wife of Arthur Henry Fitzroy Paget.) as I had a fine Circassian
officer’s dress, which I had had made years ago in Saint Petersburg,
just for occasions of the kind.
The Sunday before the ball I dined at Mr. S. L. M. Barlow’s, No. 1
Madison Avenue, as my partner in the quadrille was to be Miss Barlow,
and it was a kind attention on their part to invite me to dinner.
The other guests were Mr. Manton Marble and Mr. Hurlburt of the New York
_World_, one of the organs of the Democratic party. These gentlemen,
with Messrs. Barlow, Belmont and others, were very intimate, and all
leading spirits of the Manhattan Club.
After dessert, I took occasion to say, in a conversation in which some
of the leaders were being discussed, that the Democratic party to
succeed must get rid of many of its old planks, which would not support
any one today; that there were plenty of young fellows like myself and
others, who had been in the war, and were now growing up to take part in
public matters, who could not, and would not, place confidence in the
men whose record had been such as that of the leaders of the Northern
Democrats, the last fifteen years.
But how I have departed from the ball!
Instead of describing it particularly I insert here a drawing and notice
of it from Frank Leslie’s paper, also the card of invitation, etc. (The
illustration represented the ball room with the ball in progress,
showing many of the finest costumes.)
The invitation was for a _Bal Costumé—costume de rigueur_,—signed by H.
S. Fearing, secretary, and the time was nine o’clock. The reverse of the
card bore the names of twenty-eight gentlemen; among them August
Belmont, W. W. Astor, and A. Thorndike Rice.
The representative of _Frank Leslie’s_ said in his report:—
“All that bright flowers, perfumed air, sweet music, flashing
diamonds, manly beauty, female loveliness, elegant costumes, and grace
and refinement could contribute to such a scene, were found there....
One of the features of the evening was an Eastern quadrille of which
Miss Stevens of Fifth Avenue was queen. The costumes of the eight
forming the set were superb!”
The note from Miss Minnie Stevens to me with regard to the ball, was as
follows:—
“I write you some time ahead to know if it is possible for you to be
in New York a week from Monday, that is to say, the Monday before the
ball. We have arranged to dance the quadrille at our place on that
evening, for you have no idea how little any one knows about dancing
it, and, as the audience will be large, it would be very mortifying to
make several mistakes. As there is to be a procession formed, we have
also to know our partners and our places. I hope you will be able to
get here for the rehearsal on Monday the 22d as I would like all the
sixteen to come together. I am in despair about my dress, it is so
difficult to get up. Hoping soon to have the pleasure of seeing you,
I am sincerely yours,
Minnie Stevens.”
This was the handsomest ball of the kind I ever saw, as nearly all the
costumes were remarkable for richness, and few or none of them had a
cheap or tawdry look. The march in of all of us who took part in the
opening quadrille, was a brilliant sight.
Before going to it I went to show myself off in costume at the
Appletons’, 3 Madison Avenue, and also at the Beckwiths’ on Fifth Avenue
and 18th Street, whence I escorted Miss Helen Beckwith (Now Mrs. Dudley
Leigh.) in the dress of a Circassian slave across the street to the
Belmonts’, where there was a large reception, for those in costume
particularly, for the benefit of the invalid daughter who could not go
to the ball, but naturally wanted to see the people and the dresses. I
was glad to have the chance of paying a call at the house. Mrs. Belmont
looked remarkably well, and her other daughter (Now Mrs. Samuel S.
Howland.) too, as pretty as possible in Pompadour costume.
At the ball I sat at a supper table with Mrs. Strong,—née
Ruggles,—chatting and looking at the different persons as they passed
by; also, with Mrs. General Barlow née Shaw. This was a quiet and
comfortable way of enjoying the fête. Then I danced the “_cotillon_”
with Mrs. Kemys—the cotillon which was led by Jimmy Otis with all the
animation of twenty years before.
Strolling to my den through 14th street and Broadway, just as the day
was dawning, I got into bed, well tired, a little before six o’clock.
FROM MISS STEVENS ON RECEIPT OF THE PHOTOGRAPH, 1877.
“So many thanks for the charming photograph just received. It was very
kind of you to have remembered me, and so justly divined my wish.
The ‘Circassian’ shall join its companions in the album of the
oriental quadrille. We are going to England some time this spring, but
I hope only to return for the summer at dear old Newport, which we all
must acknowledge has no rivals.”
THE LOOM OF THE EAST.
I wore my Circassian costume again at my brother’s house, 10
Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, at the meeting of the Bric-a-Brac Club,
January 17th, 1877, when I read his paper on “The Loom of the East”
(Fifth chapter of “Windfalls” by Thomas Gold Appleton, author of “A
Sheaf of Papers,” “A Nile Journal,” “Syrian Sunshine” etc.) my brother
suffering from a fall at the time.
MY TWENTY-FOURTH BIRTHDAY.
FROM MY MOTHER IN BOSTON, SUNDAY, FEB. 3, 1867.
“Your birthday (February 2d) was not forgotten, and as I sat at my
lonely meal, I could only wish you, my boy, many years of happiness,—not
the giddy enjoyment of the present hour, but solid days of reality, when
the heart shall be satisfied, and all this fascination of travel and
society shall have lost some of its freshness, and you will not care for
a ‘spike’ team, or a ‘four-in-hand’.”
THE LAST LETTER FROM RUSSIA IN ’67.
St. Petersburg, February 3, 1867.
Yes, Mamma, it is here. We are off tomorrow for Warsaw. We leave this
delightful place, with its cold climate and its warm hearts. Willingly
would I linger here a week or two more, but Charles is resolute, and has
been saying for the last few days that he _will_ go tomorrow, and can’t
be stopped.
Our boxes are packed, our bills paid, and as it would be quite
impossible to find a time when we would not like to stay longer, perhaps
it is as well to go now as ever.
“20 AND 30 BELOW.”
It is mild today, but the four days before have been such cold as I
never experienced; the mercury being all the time between twenty and
thirty below the zero of Fahrenheit. In fact the people here say they
have not had such a snap for years. We were fortunate not to get frozen,
for our _isvoschik_ was in a continued state of freeze,—which he did not
seem to mind,—notwithstanding the neckkerchief and mittens we gave him.
The intense cold interferes little with your life, and wrapped up in our
_shubes_ we spend the day calling or shopping, or by night go from
ballet to ball till late in the morning. They have huge fires built in
front of the Opera House, and the Winter Palace, for the coachmen to
keep warm.
RUSSIAN FOOTMEN.
The life of a footman here is odd enough. Their principal duty is to
look after the cloaks and overshoes of their masters and mistresses, and
they follow them about all day and night, sitting and sleeping in the
entries of private houses during a visit and the duration of a ball, and
in the foyer of the theatre for the entire performance of the opera or
play.
The carriages, too, are always drawn up in line at the theatre or ball,
and stay there all night instead of going home and returning at a
certain hour. What would the tender coachmen and hackmen of Boston say
to that, who do not like to wait half an hour?
This is strange, when it is so cold, especially for the horses, but they
are never clipped, and the men are very thickly dressed.
At all the “swell” houses they have an impressive flunkey in the entry,
with a huge knobbed stick like a drum major or beadle, dressed in
gorgeous livery, a red sash a foot wide and covered with embroidered
black, double-headed eagles. All he does is to open and shut the front
door. In fact, at all houses, shops, and hotels, they have a porter,
generally an old soldier covered with medals, to take off and put on
overcoats and boots and goloshes.
Every house in Russia is double windowed and treble doored, and between
the two panes of the windows there are artificial flowers.
The houses are too hot, and the air bad, so that they use incense
everywhere in the country.
LADY BUCHANAN’S BALL.
The ball at the British embassy was very good, and we were introduced to
the prettiest girl in the city, the little Countess Apraxine. We met,
also, a charming young lady, the Princess Ourousoff, a cousin of my
friend at Newport last summer.
Today we have been lunching at the Prince Galitzine’s, with a crowd of
jolly young dogs; among them the son of the celebrated Gortschakoff.
TSARSKOË SELO.
We passed one day last week at Tsarskoë Selo, visiting the palace, a
summer residence of the Emperor; also, the arsenal with splendid armor,
and the imperial dairy, where we ate cheese and drank imperial milk. We
afterwards dined with Gen. Gogol, the commander of the department, who
was very strong on the _entente cordiale_ between us, with a most
healthy detestation of England. He was another good specimen of that
well-known type of humanity, the Russian general.
[Illustration:
SLEDGE DRAWN BY REINDEER.
]
The Palace was the best I ever saw, they being generally cold,
cheerless, all alike, and a bore, but this looked like a habitable
place, with a blue and silver boudoir, a room entirely made of Japan
wood, with panels, pictures, furniture, all Japanese; one room papered
with amber, and at last a Persian smoking room, small and cozy, filled
with bits of armor and pipes, divans, and a tiny fountain sunk in the
middle of the room.
I have been doing up sights rapidly, preparatory to leaving; for
instance, the Admiralty, where an officer showed us all the models,
interesting to Charles, especially the Yankee cutters; the Academy of
Fine Arts from which, however, the best paintings have already been sent
to Paris. (For the Exposition.) I wanted to get a fair idea of the
Russian school, as it is now very little known out of the country, but
headed by Zitchy, a genius. I have photographs which will give you an
idea of his talent.
The Imperial Library one day I slaughtered, well repaying a visit, but
finally, today, we gave a hurried half-hour to a last, lingering gaze at
the treasures in the Hermitage.
A DRIVE WITH REINDEER.
Yesterday, in all the cold, we took a five minute drive in a sledge
drawn by three reindeer on the Neva, just to say we had done it.
Midnight and after:—I take up my festive quill for the last time in
Petersburg, to finish a family epistle.
We have been to see our last ballet tonight, and then out to Tivoli, a
restaurant in the suburbs of the city, with a “swell” skating pond under
glass. We have been meaning to see the place for a long while, but have
not accomplished it before our last eve.
We have our government permission to leave the country, and nothing now
remains for us to do but gracefully take off our hats and give a parting
kiss to Russia.
Nate.
Please see that all my military traps are safely returned from the
studio of Staigg,—sword, bridle, jacket, belt, etc. Ask T. G. A. to
write me his opinion of the picture.
GAS-LIGHTING IN MOSCOW.
FROM MY MOTHER IN BOSTON, FEB. 10, 1867.
“Did you witness the lighting of Moscow with gas? It must have been a
great occasion from the newspaper accounts. It seems strange it should
not have been done before this.
GIFTS TO THE SOUTH.
Mr. George Peabody has made a munificent gift to the country of
$1,500,000 for educational purposes in the South, so that I am sure the
North may feel relieved of all responsibility.
I read in this evening’s _Transcript_, that the largest room in the
world is in St. Petersburg, did you see it? Twenty thousand wax tapers
are required to light it properly.
[Illustration:
DROSKY.
]
It is simply ridiculous the way people are to be off, there will be
eight or nine vacant houses at Nahant.”
Later, in a letter dated March 31, 1867, my mother mentioned the gift of
100,000 volumes of school books, which the New York Appleton firm had
added to the educational gift of Mr. Peabody.
“POOR POLAND.”
“Good Kosciusko! thy great name alone
Is a full harvest whence to reap high feeling;
It comes upon us like the glorious pealing
Of the wide spheres—an everlasting tone.”
—_John Keats._ _To Kosciusko._
LETTER TO MY MOTHER.
Vienna, Feb. 12, 1867.
From Saint Petersburg to here, a long pull, is it not? and what a change
in temperature from the icy zero of the Neva to that which seems almost
like summer! We saw the snow disappear on our way, and wheels gradually
take the place of runners, and now that I am far away, and in a city,
which like most European ones, is an attempted copy of Paris, how
brilliantly indeed do the peculiarities of Russia stand forth.
We left St. P. one morning and the evening of the next day were in
Warsaw. Returning to our hotel late from a ball, we were accosted and
stopped by a policeman of whom I asked the way, and he very politely
took us all (Mr. W. F. Nisbet, an American gentleman who came with us
from Russia, C. A. L. and myself.) to the station house. It seems no one
in Warsaw is allowed to be out after midnight without a “pass,” and we
had neglected to get them.
We coolly entered and sat down and burst out laughing, and at length I
explained in my bad German, to an official who talked an equally bad
lingo, our situation, impressing him with the fact of the greatness of
the Amerikanski alliance, and we were soon escorted home.
The next day we rambled about the town, saw the palaces and the pretty
ladies, and were attended to by some young Russian swells to whom we had
letters from St. Petersburg. In the theatre we saw the Mazourka most
gorgeously danced in true Polish national costume, which was not allowed
here a few years ago.
Poor old Poland! What is left of her former greatness? Alas, nothing but
the mazourka. As can be aptly said, how like to Byron’s Greece:—
We have the Polish dance as yet,
Where is the Polish phalanx gone?
Better this than nothing, as it helps keep up still the nationality of
the people.
The next morning Charles and I were off to Cracow, the old capital of
Poland, and one of the most interesting and quaint old towns I had ever
seen, with its Square and Schloss, and the church where all the kings of
Poland have been crowned and buried, and we mysteriously descended the
vault, and saw the tombs of Jagellon, Paniatowski, and our good friend
Kosciusko.
This is an Austrian territory, where the rule is much less rigid, and we
saw many old Poles in faded frogged coats and square caps, and the
antique equipages and livery of families once the greatest in Europe.
I was never so impressed before with the hard fate of Poland, a great
nation actually annihilated, and I got up my sympathy more on my journey
by reading a most interesting history of Poland by Mickiewicz.
There happens to be a big salt mine near Cracow, and as we had never
seen anything of the sort before, we descended with Bengal lights and
what not, and did the whole thing: illuminated chambers, ferried across
the Styx, crystal dance halls, and all, hundreds of feet below ground.
PARTING COMPANY.
The next morning we were up early for the train, and Charles and I,
after two and more most agreeable months together, parted company; he
for Dresden and then Paris, and I for Vienna.
CHAPTER SEVENTH.
CHARLES APPLETON LONGFELLOW.
“Friend of my youth! when young we roved,
Like striplings, mutually beloved,
With friendship’s purest glow,
The bliss which winged those rosy hours
Was such as pleasure seldom showers
On mortals here below.”
“To Lord Clare”—Byron’s _Hours of Idleness_.
IN VIRGINIA.
THREE YEARS PREVIOUS. THE PAIN OF BATTLE.
It was the movement of General George G. Meade called the Mine Run
Expedition, Nov. 26, 1863. On the morning of the 27th the First Mass.
Cavalry under command of General John I. Gregg, marched to Parker’s
Store on the Orange Plank Road, where it met a column of Meade’s
infantry, the Fifth Corps, under command of General George Sykes, passed
them, and marched ahead of them on the Gordonsville road, leading the
column through the Wilderness. At New Hope Church they met the enemy’s
cavalry pickets, but the country was so densely wooded they could only
fight dismounted.
Brevet Col. B. W. Crowninshield in his History of the First Mass.
Cavalry, says:—“As the force advanced, the ground became rougher and
well wooded at times, with occasional openings. Charges were made, and
prisoners were taken from what proved to be Walker’s North Carolina
Brigade of Infantry.
[Illustration:
CHARLES APPLETON LONGFELLOW.
]
Lieutenant C. A. Longfellow of Company A, was badly wounded, at first
supposed mortally....
When the 5th Corps infantry came up and relieved the cavalry the enemy
had been pushed back nearly to his works on Mine Run.... In the fight
the 1st Mass. Cavalry lost one officer and four men killed, and two
officers and eleven men wounded.”
FROM THE HISTORY OF THE FIFTH MASS. BATTERY, LIGHT ARTILLERY.
LETTER OF LIEUT. APPLETON P. 747.
THE CROSSING OF THE RAPIDAN. NEW HOPE CHURCH.
“On the 27th (Nov. 1863.) off at daybreak, struck a dirt road, which
soon led to another plank road parallel to the first, and also in the
direction of Orange Court House. On, on, we trudged, and soon we heard
heavy cannonading, which every minute grew nearer, mixed now and then
with the sharp cracks of the carbine. We soon came to the little village
of New Hope Church, where the Corps rushed on at ‘double quick’ to
relieve the shattered squadrons of Gregg, and a splendid sight it was.
The cavalry formed in squares by the road side, right glad to be
relieved by the ‘Doughboys’ and our artillery rushing on to the front.
Captain Martin (Capt. A. P. Martin commanding the Artillery Brigade)
soon got the batteries in posish, and in fact the only fighting our
Corps did was done by the artillery. I soon heard that Charlie
Longfellow had been wounded, and stole the first minute I could get to
run off to the hospital, New Hope Church, where I saw the dear boy,
lying on the pulpit, and surrounded by the officers of the regiment.
(First Mass. Cavalry.) He looked and talked well, but I did not have but
a minute to stay with him, as my biz. then was on the field.... I went
again to the hospital in the evening, but Charlie had gone, as they had
taken off all except the worst cases. I assure you it was not a pleasant
sight. Charlie and Bowditch (Captain Henry Pickering Bowditch shot in
the right forearm) went off together. Charlie was wounded by a ball just
under the shoulder blade, injuring the spine, but missing the vital
parts.”
* * * * *
Previous to his connection with the First Mass. Cavalry he joined the
First Mass. Battery, Light Artillery, at the front, as a private, but
was not mustered in, and at the age of 19 was commissioned in the
Cavalry. His record in the Adjutant General’s office of the State of
Massachusetts, is as follows:—
“Charles A. Longfellow, of Cambridge, was commissioned 2nd Lieut., Co.
G., 1st Regt. Mass. Vol. Cavalry, March 27, 1863; mustered March 27,
1863, for 3 years. Commissioned 1st Lieut. to date January 24, 1864,
not mustered; discharged February 15, 1864, as 2nd Lieutenant.
Charles A. Longfellow, of Cambridge, was commissioned 1st Lieut. in
Co. G, 5th Regt. Mass. Vol. Cavalry, January 7, 1864. He declined the
commission.”
The Fifth Cavalry was a Regiment composed of men of African descent.
In August, 1863, he was Acting Adjutant.
The wound affected him all his life, he was never in condition to rejoin
the army, and it prevented him from going on the ill fated expedition of
Captain George Washington De Long in the _Jeanette_, to the North Pole.
He had begged his great friend James Gordon Bennett to go as a volunteer
on the expedition, but the surgeon who examined all those who were to
take part in it, did not consider him fit to stand the probable
exposure, and so would not pass him, greatly to his own disappointment
but to the relief of his family and friends. As he would doubtless have
been in the boat with Captain De Long he was saved the suffering and
terrible death of those brave men.
After much travelling and residence in many lands, shortly after his
return from a trip to Tahiti with his friend T. Watson Merrill, in the
spring of 1892, he had a sudden stroke of paralysis, from which he never
recovered.
Passing the summer with his sister Miss Alice Longfellow, at the old
Nahant Cottage, he returned with her in the autumn to the historic home
at Cambridge, formerly Washington’s headquarters, and after living all
the winter and appearing somewhat better, he died April 13, 1893, at the
age of forty-nine. He was born June 9, 1844.
CHAPTER EIGHTH.
FRANCE. LAST DAYS OF THE EMPIRE. TO RUSSIA WITH GENERAL BANKS.
I
“Friend of the fair old days,
Have you forgotten me?
Back through the pleasant ways,
Oft in my memory,
Gladly I turn again.
Hearing the sounds that blew
Over the meadows then—
Oft at the side of you
Dreaming old dreams, I gaze
Worshipping all I see—
Friend of the fair old days,
Have you forgotten me?
II
· · · · ·
Do you remember me?
· · · · ·
Deeming you great and wise—
Questions I asked you then?
There where the green hills rise
Often your gaze was cast
Down on me tenderly—
Friend of the dear old past,
May you remember me?”
—_S. E. Kiser._
THE GUESTS OF FRANCE.
I wrote home June 5th, 1867, the year of the Great Exposition:—“It does
not pay just now to be away from Paris, for it is in a most exceptional
state, filled with Europeans—Kings, Princes, and all kinds of
celebrities. All other places are deserted and quieter than usual, and
moreover they will all keep for the future, but probably not for years
will Paris see such another sight.
[Illustration:
HON. NATHANIEL P. BANKS.
REPRESENTATIVE FROM MASSACHUSETTS.
]
The last few steamers have brought over crowds of ‘Yanks’; others have
come up from Italy and Germany, and I find that since the short time ago
that I left here for England, my many friends have turned up and prices,
too, have run up very fast.
The race for the Grand Prix on last Sunday, was probably the most
brilliant assemblage of the sort the world has ever seen, and the road
home from the tribune itself to the Place de la Concorde, was a solid
mass of vehicles five or six rows in breadth, and all going in the same
direction.
My friend the Tsar Alexander II. was there, and I recognized other
Russian friends, but I shall let you get the accounts from the papers,
and not from me, of all the grand doings of the season. There is to be
held at the race course at Long Champs a huge review of military.
THE REVIEW.
Thursday. Midnight: I must finish this for you tonight to dispatch it by
tomorrow morning.
The Review (Longchamps June 6, 1867, Review of the French Army.) was
superb. It was, perhaps, the proudest day of Napoleon Third’s career,
having on one side of him, as he reviewed the troops, the King of
Prussia, and on the other the Emperor of Russia.
I was late in driving up, but afterwards had a fine view of it all at
the apartments of Paul Forbes and his family of New York, on the avenue.
Returning to Paris after the Review, the carriage in which the Tsar was
seated passed me somewhere in the Bois de Boulogne, as I too, was
returning from the pageant. I was so full of the delightful time I had
had in Russia, a few months before, that I took off my hat as we passed
and gave him a bow. My salutation was so very marked that he looked at
me intently, as if trying to make out just who I was, but I do not
suppose he could bring me back to his recollection, though of course he
returned the salutation.
The weather is delightful now, and the days so long that it is not dark
at nine o’clock, and Paris is one prolonged fête, each day and night
more astonishing than the last.
There is a vague rumor floating about that some crazy Pole attempted to
assassinate the Tsar at the Review.
June 12, 1867: This marvellous life of Paris runs along, getting more
extraordinary every day!
How well Napoleon III. has succeeded in his undertaking. He invites
rulers of all descriptions to come and visit him in his home, to see the
Paris of ’67.
They accept, and he quietly sits twirling his moustache, surrounded by
Tsars, Popes, Queens, Sultans, Kings, Grand Dukes and Princes! What a
shrewd and wonderful stroke of diplomacy it all is, thus showing to the
world the marvels of his great capital! Balls, fêtes, races, reviews,
come and go, but how it will all end one cannot say, for I think the
French people will be tired of the tremendous expense before the summer
is over.
Yesterday I went with a party to Fontainebleau, but it so happened the
Imperialist party were all there the same morning, and the Palace was
closed for visitors. We breakfasted, and drove through the forest,
expecting to see a _chasse_, but, shortly after reaching the
“Rendezvous” we found it was abandoned on account of the heat, and dogs
and huntsmen all marched home.
It is almost too warm for theatres now, but tonight I have been to see a
piece called _La Dame aux Camélias_, which was a great success in Paris
ten or fifteen years ago. (Vaudeville Theatre, Paris, February 2, 1852,
Madame Eugénie Doche was the first Marguerite Gautier.)
July 4. 1867:—Here we have the great day of American independence, but,
owing to the death of Maximilian, all festivities, both for the Sultan,
and even our own “Fourth of July” celebration, are postponed. I must say
this seems rather unnecessary, but I am inclined to think that yesterday
morning Napoleon III did not have a very good appetite for breakfast.
(The Emperor Maximilian was executed in Mexico, where he bravely
insisted upon remaining to meet his fate when the army of Napoleon III
had been withdrawn.)
Paris is one of those places into which you tumble very easily, and then
find it almost impossible to get out of it. People are packing up now,
however, and the fashionable resort this summer, for Bostonians
especially, seems to be the baths about Salzburg in the Tyrol.
Funny thing life is here in Paris. You wake up in the morning without
any idea what you will do during the day. Invitations come, one thing
succeeds another, and the hours slip along.
July 10, 1867: The death of Maximilian has caused a very deep feeling in
Europe, and most of the festivities arranged for the Sultan have been
countermanded. This makes it rather quieter in Paris now than was
expected.
I went out yesterday to Saint Cloud, and saw some rowing regattas
between boats of various nationalities, but there were few persons
present, and not much excitement.”
* * * * *
The year of the great Exposition of 1867, may be regarded as the apogee
of the Second Empire, and soon after it ominous rumblings were heard in
the political clouds. The disastrous and humiliating expedition to
Mexico doubtless contributed to the beginning of the downfall, and even
the sight of Napoleon at the Longchamps Review in 1867, with the Emperor
of Russia and the King of Prussia on either side, could not bolster up
popular opinion as to the prestige of French military glory.
I never considered that the people of France endorsed the expedition to
Mexico, or believed in it. No, it was part of the personal ambition of
Napoleon to take advantage of our troubles, and try to foist an empire
upon one of the nations of the Western hemisphere, where it was not
wanted, would have been out of place, and could not last long. It was a
miserable business from beginning to end, and did much to weaken the
ties of friendship between France and the United States, as was shown
many years later by the opposition of our government and people to the
peaceful work of Mr. de Lesseps in his herculean efforts in behalf of
the Panama Canal.
Napoleon was at the height of his tinsel glory in 1867, but the triumph
of the Empress Eugénie was reached in 1869, at the fêtes in Egypt
attending the opening of the Suez Canal, certainly in her case a
well-merited one, her efforts as a relative of de Lesseps having
contributed so much to the success of that great enterprise. One would
hardly have imagined then, while looking upon her in all her grace and
loveliness, in every way the queen of the festivities, that the
over-throwing of the Empire was so soon to follow.
The celebration of our “Fourth of July” at the Pré Catalan in the Bois
de Boulogne was omitted in 1867, as noted, and I have heard that this
was done at the especial request of the French government, and I suppose
it was made in such a way that it would not have been easy or in good
taste to refuse. All the same I could not understand what our
celebration had to do with the death of Maximilian, and I regretted
extremely that our representative succumbed to the pressure brought to
bear. I never learned whether it was the result of orders from
Washington, or if our Minister took the responsibility, for such an act
does not seem to harmonize with the character of General John A. Dix,
though he was the most courteous of gentlemen.
PARIS IN 1869.
On the 21st of May, 1869, I wrote my sister—“Paris is now filled with
American diplomats, Washburn, Jay, Burlingame, Marsh, etc., most of whom
I have seen. Burlingame dined with me ten days ago, and expatiated on
the charms of everything in California.”
Among my guests at my apartment just off the Boulevard, were members of
congress, prominent men of business and science, diplomatic
representatives, and others, meeting there as they turned up in Paris on
their European trips for relaxation. They were generally Americans, as
my ambitions were all identified with my native country, but I would
often have a sprinkling of Frenchmen or English to give variety and
there, in the neutral territory of my smoking-room, all restraint thrown
aside, men who at home belonged to political parties sometimes in bitter
opposition, would meet and express their opinions in a way that would
have been impossible in New York or Washington. Sparks of wit would fly
off from the fast working grindstone of this unpretentious salon, and
there was plenty of valuable information to be picked up by any one who
would take the trouble to go there with his eyes and ears open.
BURLINGAME AND CHINA.
At a farewell banquet given to Major General John A. Dix, U. S. Minister
to France, at the Grand Hotel, June 1st, 1869, by the American residents
at Paris, the Hon. Anson Burlingame was present and was introduced by
the presiding officer Hon. Elliot C. Cowdin, as one who “pleaded for the
rights of four millions of slaves until their last fetter fell. He now
in loftier tones pleads before the nations the cause of four hundred
millions of men.”
In 1867, Prince Kung, regent of the Empire of China, offered to appoint
Burlingame, who was United States Minister to China appointed by
President Lincoln, special envoy to the United States and the great
European powers, for the purpose of framing treaties of amity with these
nations, an honor never before conferred upon a foreigner.
He resigned as U. S. Minister to accept this mission around the world,
and arrived at the United States the head of a numerous party, in March,
1868.
In the course of his remarks the following year at the banquet to
General Dix, he said:—
“While we do not interfere in other people’s affairs, nor permit them to
interfere in ours, we cannot forget that we are a great nation, that we
cannot abdicate our responsibilities, that we must take our part in the
peaceful police of the sea and the land, and in the maintenance of those
principles of international law, which recognize the equality of nations
as we recognize the equality of men. That, as it is the highest duty of
every society to protect the weak from the strong, so the weak nations
and struggling peoples should find ample protection in that sense of
justice of the strong nations which they cannot lose and prosper.”
Mr. Burlingame visited St. Petersburg the last of the European capitals,
and died there at forty-eight years of age, on Washington’s birthday,
1870, about a year after the original departure from China. I first met
him when he had the Chinese Embassy in London, then frequently in Paris,
and the last time in Stockholm before we left.
THE UNION PACIFIC RAILROAD.
In the speech of Ex-Governor Alexander H. Bullock at this banquet, he
said with reference to the mission of Burlingame, and the Union Pacific
Railroad just completed:—
“The great work is done, and hereafter the states are a unit in commerce
as in government. Before my friend Mr. Burlingame has half completed his
cosmopolitan mission, the freight trains have been made up at San
Francisco, laden with the product of China, and by the time he shall
have unpacked his trunks at Berlin, he may drink at the breakfast table
his favorite tea, which, thanks to the irrepressible and irresistible
Yankees, has been brought round to him the other way.”
THE CURTIN-DREXEL DINNER.
My first thought of seeing _Le Canal de Suez_, of going to the opening
ceremonies which took place on the 17th November, 1869, was the result
of a dinner given at the rooms of Bowles Brothers & Co. early in July of
that year.
The dinner was given in honor of Governor Andrew G. Curtin of
Pennsylvania, who had been appointed U. S. Minister to the Russian court
at St. Petersburg, and was then _en route_ to his post, and to Mr.
Anthony J. Drexel of Philadelphia, who was making his first visit to
Paris after the establishment there of the branch house of Drexel,
Harjes & Co.
Among the guests present I can now recall the Hon. Elihu B. Washburn U.
S. Minister at Paris, Hon. Anson Burlingame at the head of the Chinese
Embassy, Major General the Hon. Nathaniel P. Banks M. C., Hon. Zachariah
Chandler U. S. Senator, Hon. Fernando Wood M. C., Mr. John C. Lee, of
Lee, Higginson & Co., and Mr. S. Endicott Peabody afterwards a partner
in the house of J. S. Morgan & Co.
Charles Bowles then and there suggested that General Banks and I go to
the opening of the Suez Canal. I talked with the General about it and we
agreed to meet in Paris the middle of September, and start on the trip.
We went first to Hamburg, then to Copenhagen, where we arrived about the
20th of September, and met General Waldemar Rudolph Raasloff, Chargé
d’Affaires from Denmark to the United States, 1858 to 1862, Envoy
Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary 1864 to 1866, and then on to
Stockholm, where we saw a great deal of Mr. Burlingame, who had just
arrived with the Chinese Embassy.
AT STOCKHOLM.
From a letter written to my sister from Stockholm I take what follows
under date of October 4, 1869:—“You will be, doubtless, somewhat
surprised at seeing from the heading of this, how far I have managed to
get from my beloved Paris without any previous warning. With General N.
P. Banks M. C. from Massachusetts, I set out on the trip which he was
very desirous of accomplishing, first through the north countries of
Europe, and then through Russia to Constantinople and the opening of the
Suez Canal.
There is not a man in the United States just now who is a more valuable
companion for such a trip.
We have been passing several days here very pleasantly though quietly,
and tonight after dining with the U. S. Minister, General C. C. Andrews,
we take the steamer direct for Saint Petersburg, where I shall have an
opportunity of revisiting and seeing in a more summer like garb the
scenes of my former triumphs.
Mr. Burlingame happens to be here with all the Chinese, and they cause
an immense sensation in the city. The square in front of our hotel is
continually crowded with groups of curious ones, trying to catch a
glimpse of the Celestials, as they sit complacently at their windows and
gaze and smile benignly on the people below.
Mr. Burlingame, General Banks and I have long talks, lasting late into
the night, about everything, which generally end in glorifying the
grandeur of the great Republic.”
GENERAL BANKS, DENMARK AND SWEDEN.
There is to be held this year (1904) a Shakesperian celebration marking
the 300th anniversary of the first printed edition of the tragedy of
Hamlet, and a portrait statue of Shakespere is to be erected on the road
to Kronborg Castle, the foundations of which are now said to be insecure
through the undermining of the tides. I remember well after our visit to
Hamlet’s castle at Elsinore, and promenade on the terrace, when we
returned to the hotel, and had dined, and were in adjoining rooms,
before retiring, the General was full of the inspiration of the scene,
and repeated to me many of the lines of Hamlet appropriate to the place
and occasion. It seemed to me as if he knew the whole play by heart.
At Stockholm the house he especially wanted to see was that of
Swedenborg,—founder of the Swedenborg religion,—and we went there one
day. It was a simple dwelling as I now recall it after these many years.
We made an excursion, also, to the town of Upsala, famous for its
university.
The American Minister Gen. Christopher Columbus Andrews, of Minnesota,
who had but recently been appointed, gave us a dinner, and all in his
power to make our sojourn agreeable and instructive.
A REVIEW OF THE ARMY.
We saw a review of the army by King Oscar, and were told afterwards how
much he regretted he had not known we were there, so that he could have
invited us to join his staff, and take part in it.
RAASLOFF, BANKS AND THE ISLANDS.
In Copenhagen at the Raasloff lunch of perhaps 20, after he was elected
deputy, General Banks made at table one of his effective impromptu short
speeches. General Raasloff was the only candidate, and thus his election
was not difficult, but he never recovered from the disappointment of our
government not taking the island of St. Thomas, when he supposed it was
all settled between the United States and Denmark. Banks was elected
member of congress from Massachusetts in 1853, and 1855, Governor of the
state from 1858 to 1861, elected member of congress again, with the
exception of the election of 1872, from 1865 to 1877. In 1888, he was
again elected, and served until 1890. He was chairman of the committee
on foreign affairs of the U. S. House of Representatives in 1865 and
later, including the years General Raasloff was minister from Denmark to
the United States. I had heard him often speak of the purchase of Saint
Thomas, and the disappointment of his friend General Raasloff at its
nonaccomplishment.
In his judgment we ought to own or control all the islands of the West
Indies, showing the danger to us, as proved by the action of England
during our civil war, of their being in the possession of governments
that might be hostile. The blockade runners were almost entirely English
ships, making money out of our troubles by supplying the Confederates
with articles they needed, and receiving principally cotton in return,
which was then selling at a tremendous price.
If the advice of Banks had been followed, the War with Spain in 1898,
which began by the desire to assist Cuba in gaining its independence,
could not have occurred. He was one of the strongest advocates of the
purchase of Alaska.
During my travels with General Banks, then 53 years of age, from the
middle of September, 1869, to the early part of December, I always found
him a very abstemious man. I do not remember that he ever took a glass
of spirits; I mean by this what are called hard liquors. At dinner he
would take a little wine, and when I asked him what he preferred he
would say, “Well, you know, I consider champagne the most agreeable,”
and so once or twice a week we would have a bottle. Occasionally, at
night, he would indulge in a glass of beer.
Nor did he smoke at all. He would say to me, “I cannot smoke.” This
reminds me that he never clipped expressions of the kind, i. e. he
always said “I do not,” “I will not,” “I shall not,” instead of “I
can’t,” “I don’t,” etc. It was a good lesson for me which I have tried
to follow, for the abbreviations always seem to me cheap and
undignified, especially when used in a speech or in writing. Of course
in ordinary conversation it may be to a certain extent different, but,
all the same, I prefer the two words to the shortening them into one.
TO ST. PETERSBURG.
Crossing the Gulf of Finland, we stopped at several small towns on the
way to St. Petersburg, where our new minister, Ex-Governor Curtin and
the Secretary of Legation Mr. Titian J. Coffey of Pennsylvania, both of
whom had been but a short time in the country, treated us most
hospitably.
THE PRESENTATIONS.
Writing from St. Petersburg on this date I said: “The 27th of October
will be remembered by Americans as a day of great interest.”
Today at 2 o’clock at the Winter Palace, our new minister Ex-Governor A.
G. Curtin presented his credentials and was formally received by the
Emperor Alexander II.
Our minister’s speech and the reply by the Tsar, were short but to the
point, and replete with sentiments of increasing friendship between the
two great continental nations of the world, and the happy remarks about
President Grant and the Emperor Alexander will be appreciated by the
people of both countries. The secretary Mr. Titian J. Coffey, was
presented at the same time, and the United States legation at Russia can
well be proud of its representatives.
THE REVIEW.
Another event of the day was the review of military forces stationed in
and about the city, to the number of thirty-five thousand, which took
place on the Champ de Mars. Two great reviews are held yearly in Saint
Petersburg, one in the early spring and the other in January. The review
of today was especially ordered by the Emperor, out of regular course,
and whether or not it has any political significance was subject of
speculation.
The display was, as such things always are here, very fine, the beauty
and strength of the Russian horses being especially observed.
Besides General Banks there was present General Hiram Berdan, who has
been for some time in Russia, and we understand that he has large
contracts from the Russian government for supplying them with his
improved musket and cartridges.
AGRICULTURAL EXHIBITION.
In this month (October) there has been a very interesting exhibition of
the different herds of cattle raised in the Russian Empire. This is the
first exhibition of the kind ever held in the city, and it has been an
object of great interest. The prizes were awarded yesterday by the Grand
Duke Nicholas, and today the Emperor visited it in person. The ladies of
the Court have been much interested in its success, and many of the
farms in the neighborhood of the city where the finest stock is raised,
are owned by members of the Imperial family. Its object is to improve
the breed of all kinds of stock, and to assist as much as possible the
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, especially in
everything that relates to preparing animal food for the market.
THE REVIEW OF THE TROOPS.
I went to the Review with General Banks as if attached to his staff. We
were both in uniform, he as a major general of United States Volunteers,
and I as a captain of Light Artillery, in accordance with an Act of
Congress which allows all honorably discharged officers of the Union
army to appear in their highest brevet rank on any and all occasions
during life when a uniform is the appropriate dress.
As a general rule the other armies of Europe follow the customs of the
great nations, and when the head of the government ordinarily wears a
uniform of course the officers follow the example, making it their
habitual dress. The Russian government dresses its men in the best of
all colors, gray, and besides the trimness and inconspicuousness of the
uniform itself they have many simple appliances, as for instance, the
hood or basilisk, for the comfort of the soldier, for adopting which the
rigorous climate of the country has doubtless contributed a great deal.
The result is, that for thorough winter work I doubt if there is any
soldier in Europe as well prepared as the Russians.
Horses were there ready for us, and we rode along the lines and between
the squares, on the staff of the Emperor himself. It was a fine sight
and I was specially struck with the enthusiasm of the troops for their
chief the Tsar. In no country is this carried to such a pitch as in
Russia. The shouts of the men as he approaches are astonishing in their
half-barbaric ecstasy, platoon after platoon taking up the cry in turn.
The shouts of these strange looking Russians I thought at the time
implied a power and assurance of fighting well for their country and the
Tsar, whenever the time should come, different from the _élan_ of the
French, the dogged determinedness of the English, or the severe
discipline of the Prussians. Subsequent events proved that I was not
wrong in my deductions.
The army was under the command of the Tsar’s brother, the Grand Duke
Nicholas, who turned it over to its real head as he came down at the
last moment in his open drosky, and mounted his horse which was in
readiness for him there.
In connection with this review I recollect an amusing incident. It was
in the month of October, and the weather was consequently becoming
rather cold, and so a day or two before a general order was issued for
the troops to appear in their overcoats. This made it a matter of
etiquette for us, also, to wear some kind of overcoat, and as we neither
of us had one of a military style, we went with our good-natured consul
George Pomutz to a tailor, where we each ordered a little dark blue cape
which must be made in a day’s time, and we thought would serve our
purpose. They did do very well, and I have often used mine since in the
militia, and once lent it to a lady to wear going to a dinner party,
fastened with a bright brass button.
GENERAL HIRAM BERDAN.
General Berdan, of rifle renown, happened then to be in St. Petersburg
with one of his famous guns he was offering for the consideration of the
Russian government, and he, too, was at the Review.
THE LOST SWORD.
Fortunately I did not have with me my precious army sword, but one I had
bought at Paris just before starting, an historic sword as the
proprietor of the little shop in the Rue St. Honoré,—on the right from
the Rue Castiglione, as you go towards the Rue Royale,—where I got it,
told me that it had belonged to one of the suite of Napoleon at St.
Helena, and that one of the family had brought it back.
Just before General Banks and I left Saint Petersburg for Moscow, we
heard that the railroad bridge over one of the great rivers had been
burned. This was indeed the case as we found on arriving there shortly
after dark, and we had to pass the night on the train where we were, and
traverse the stream the next day in boats, rafts, or any way we could.
As we had reached the southern side, and were stepping on to the bank
from the boat, the sword slipped out of my bundle of rugs, and fell into
the river, where I have no doubt it has remained to the present time.
Morijiks tried to find it for me, but the water was very deep, the
current swift, and it could not be recovered. I doubt if it was ever
known how, or by whom and for just what purpose the bridge was fired,
for it was generally believed to have been the work of an incendiary.
A short time before, the railroad had been sold by the Winans people of
Baltimore, who had built and largely owned it, for 7,000,000 roubles
cash to the Court clique, headed by Count Strogonoff, who, by the way,
came down on the same train with us to see what was the matter.
All the old employés were discharged for some reason or other, and their
places filled by Poles taken from the St. Petersburg and Warsaw
railroad, and so very likely one, or several, of the men turned off,
devised and carried out this plan of revenge.
I remember that Governor Curtin and the Secretary Mr. Coffey, whom we
had often seen during our stay in St. Petersburg, came to see us off at
the station. We experienced great difficulty in getting any kind of
information as to the situation, but we were determined to start and run
the chance, as we had but little time to catch our boat at Odessa. As it
was, we lost about twenty-four hours, reaching Moscow just one day later
than we should.
It was during our sojourn at St. Petersburg that I received, thanks to
Mr. Charles Bowles then in America, an invitation from the Board of
Trade of my native city of Boston, of which the Hon. Alexander H. Rice
was then president, to be its delegate for the opening ceremonies of the
Suez Canal, and to write a report thereon. I consider this as the
beginning of my service in the interest of a canal across the American
Isthmus, for instead of going to Egypt merely as a tourist and
spectator, I had some work to do by which my attention was specially
called to the subject of ship canals. Certain it is that since that time
with many other occupations it has constantly been before my mind and is
so now.
INDIVIDUAL ENTERPRISE.
To beguile the time on board ship I jotted down the following notes,
Odessa, Nov. 7, 1869:—
“The idea strikes me forcibly here—that of individual enterprise, or
rather great results accomplished by individuals—because the prosperity
of this city is mainly due to the unaided efforts of two persons. First
the Duke de Richelieu, a French nobleman who may be regarded as its
founder, and, secondly, Prince Woronzoff, for many years the Russian
governor of the province.
How much any one man can accomplish if he will devote himself entirely
to the attempt, and what a field there is today for such ambition in the
United States of America! We must have the Darien Canal cut, we must
have our commerce stimulated by a changed tariff; we must have cheaper
internal transportation for our products, and then there will be little
talk about the national debt. The Secretary of the Treasury will not
have to sell gold in Wall street.”
ON THE WAY TO SUEZ.
Passing in our journey from the cold autumn weather of Russia, partly by
rail and partly by boat and across the Mediterranean, we reached the
glorious sun of Constantinople and the tropical warmth of Egypt.
[Illustration:
FERDINAND DE LESSEPS, 1869.
]
At Odessa we joined an excursion party in one of the boats of the
Russian Navigation Company the “General Kotzebue,” to Constantinople,
Rhodes, Port Said, Ismailia, Suez, passing through the canal, Cairo by
rail, Alexandria, and then by Brindisi and the Mount Cenis Tunnel back
to Paris in December.
General Banks ought to have been invited to represent the government of
the nation, he was then member of congress and chairman of the committee
on foreign affairs in the house of representatives, but he was not
appointed.
It was on this occasion that I made the acquaintance of Count Ferdinand
de Lesseps, the hero of the canal, and my journey with General Banks
deserves more than a passing notice, for his varied experience of the
past, and his penetrating observation of the present, had given him
facilities for seeing and judging things in a manner which could not
fail to be instructive. The strong American stamp of his character,
while exciting my youthful enthusiasm did not bias him in his judgment
of European or Oriental customs or forms of government. From his mind
wonderful photographs were taken as we travelled together from the North
to the South, and his quiet and dignified encouragement of my
aspirations so naturally given in the offhand intimacy of a journey,
with the mixture of petty pleasures and annoyances, were a stimulus
which came very opportune to me and which I was not likely to forget.
Accidentally, too, at different stages of our wanderings, we were thrown
in with several other marked and representative types of Americans;
among them at Stockholm the noble Burlingame since then taken away in
the midst of his grand work of Chinese regeneration; Governor Curtin the
war governor of Pennsylvania, the genial, kindly, bright, wiry type of
American politician, and the well-known American dentist of Paris, Dr.
Thomas W. Evans, whose intimacy with the French Emperor Napoleon III,
and knowledge of the inner history of the past twenty years in Paris,
made him an agreeable and valued companion.
With the healthy glow of travel, at the most delightful season of the
year, and the excitement of military reviews and gala fêtes at the
different capitals visited, all ending with the gorgeous Aladdin-like
enchantments of the week in Egypt, when Europe, Asia, Africa, aye and
America, came at the invitation of the Khedive, and led by the graceful
Empress Eugénie, offered their congratulations at the completion of that
international work of peace, the Suez Canal,—and the opportunity of
seeing these sights in the presence of many of the most distinguished
personages alive, and of discussing them with advanced minds amid the
surroundings of attractive places,—what than this could be a better
phase of education?
CONSTANTINOPLE.
On arriving at Constantinople the captain of the steamer gave all the
passengers a couple of days to spend in seeing the wonders of this
extraordinary city before continuing our journey.
We went to the best hotel, and, after breakfasting, whom should we meet
in the hall but my old Harvard classmate Jeremiah Curtin vice consul at
St. Petersburg. Curtin is the translator of “Quo Vadis” by the Polish
author Henryk Sienkiewicz, published by Little, Brown & Co. of
Boston,—John Murray Brown our classmate being a member of the firm,—and
dedicated to another member of our class Auguste Comte of San Francisco.
I had seen Curtin in Moscow, when I was there in January, 1867. General
Banks had known him in Washington, Curtin’s headquarters when not on his
journeys of investigation, and he was very glad to meet us both. What he
was doing in Turkey we could not quite make out, but I think in the
interest of Russia he was quietly watching the movements of the Slavonic
elements there, and through the Danubian principalities. Besides this he
was writing letters for one of the great New York papers. Mr. Curtin
told us that for the morning he met us he was to have by appointment an
interview with the Patriarch of Constantinople the head of the Greek
Church there, and invited us to accompany him, and we were only too glad
to thus have an opportunity for seeing this distinguished personage.
The Metropolitan of Moscow and the Patriarch of Constantinople are two
of the heads of the Greek Church. We went to see the Patriarch simply as
the head of the Turkish branch of the Church.
We started from the hotel on horseback, and, winding down some narrow
streets to the water, crossed it at the Golden Horn, and were soon in
the old part of the city on the other side, threading our way to where
the Patriarch lived, amidst the ancient houses and quaint shops which
were swarming with inhabitants, until we arrived at the door.
We were taken up into quite a large room with divans all around it, and
ushered into the presence of the Patriarch, who sat tranquilly in one
corner.
He was an aged, fine looking gentleman, with long, flowing locks and
beard, and received us most graciously.
We talked, through an interpreter, on various matters, and, after
partaking of sweetmeats and coffee, retired very much gratified with the
interview.
His dress, as also that of the interpreter, was curious; being a
combination of Oriental robes and church trappings like all the
religious officers of the Greek Church. It is striking and effective.
ARRIVAL AT PORT SAID.
It was on November 15th a little before sundown that our vessel the
“General Kotzebue” entered the harbor of Port Said, with a very
agreeable company of Russians, and came to anchor in its proper place
about seven o’clock.
We took our position on the right in entering. The Emperor of Austria
had entered just before us. Salutes were fired.
We went on shore to see the U. S. Consul, but he was not at home. Left
cards on Mr. de Lesseps and strolled about the town. Left cards on the
Vice Roi in his yacht, and saw Nuba Pacha. Met Dr. Evans and Dr. Edward
A. Crane,—a well known member of the American colony in Paris and for
many years editor of _The American Register_ of that city owned by Dr.
Evans,—on the street at Port Said. Later we go to the reception in the
yacht of the Vice Roi or Khedive, a splendid boat, and I was there
presented to the enterprising ruler of Egypt, and first met Mr. de
Lesseps himself, who from that time has been one of my favorite heroes,
and who I am free to admit I consider the most remarkable man of our
day.
As I now look back through many years to that week of fêtes in the land
of the Pharaohs, I have a kaleidoscopic vision of enchantment worthy of
the Arabian Nights, and perceive through the charm and mystery of the
Orient, a work of practical modern progress which it softens and adorns.
RETURN TO PARIS.
I was with General Banks in Paris after our return from Egypt about ten
days in December, 1869, when he and I, with Paul Forbes, Anthoine de
Gogorza, Alexandre Boyer, two Erlangers, Emile and Louis Count
Excelmans, Dr. Evans, General Charles B. Norton, and others, were
organizing the Darien Canal Company. Then he went to Washington for the
session of congress, and I remained in Paris.
CHAPTER NINTH.
ALEXANDER II. AND EMANCIPATION.
“Though watery deserts hold apart
The worlds of East and West,
Still beats the self-same human heart
In each proud nation’s breast.
Our floating turret tempts the main
And dares the howling blast,
To clasp more close the golden chain
That long has bound them fast.
In vain the gales of ocean sweep,
In vain the billows roar,
That chain the wild and stormy steep
Of storied Elsinore.
She comes! She comes! Her banner dips
In Neva’s flashing tide,
With greetings on her cannon’s lips
The storm-god’s iron bride.
· · · · ·
No prairies heaped their garnered store
To fill her sunless hold.
Not rich Nevada’s gleaming ore
Its hidden caves enfold.
But lightly as the sea bird swings
She floats the depth above;
A breath of flame to lend her wings—
Her freight, a people’s love.
When darkness hid the stormy skies
In war’s long winter night,
One ray still cheered our straining eyes,
The far off northern light.
And now the friendly rays return
From lights that glow afar,
Those clustered lamps of heaven that burn
Around the western star.
A nation’s love in tears and smiles
We bear across the sea:
O! Neva of the banded isles,
We moor our hearts to thee.”
—_Oliver Wendell Holmes on Fox’s Mission to Russia_, 1866.
[Illustration:
ALEXANDER II., 1866
]
THE TERRITORY OF RUSSIA.
Forty-two years have passed since in Novgorod, the oldest town, Russia
celebrated the one thousandth anniversary of its birth, and erected a
monument consisting of an enormous globe, in the midst of emblematic and
historical figures. The original Russia was a republic. It occupied a
small district near the sources of the Dneiper and Western Dvina, and
the site of the future city of Novgorod. Its name was derived from Rūs
the patronymic of three brothers of a Variag tribe belonging to the
settlement. The oldest brother was called Rurik.
More than six hundred years had passed, when in the South, Ivan III.
united the independent principalities of Moscow, and, in 1505, cast off
the Tartar yoke from these states, whose rulers proclaimed themselves
Tsars, and which were accidentally discovered in 1553, on the White Sea,
by an English navigator seeking for a short route to China and India. A
commercial acquaintance was formed which has been intermittently
sustained ever since with England.
In 1570, was inaugurated the Russian principle of expansion, by
conquering the republic of the North and annexing it to Moscow. In this
process it is said 60,000 human beings were sacrificed. In a circular
recently issued by the Ministry of Public Instruction through the
curators of the several educational districts, instructing the directors
of secondary schools to instil into the minds of their pupils a correct
theory of the war of the present year (1904) emphasis is given to the
method of treatment of the Russian colonies compared with that received
by those pertaining to other countries.
It says:—“The western European states draw from their colonies an
immense income, they live on them. Russia expends on her periphery a
very considerable sum annually, and receives nothing from them in
return. The Russian periphery flourishes at the expense of the centre.”
This periphery embraces the colonies of Finland, the Caucasus, the
Central Asiatic possessions and Manchuria.
During the reign of Alexander I. the Grand Duchy of Finland, which
stretches from the Gulf of Finland to the Polar Sea, by the peace of
Friederichshamm was ceded to Russia by Sweden in 1809, and Poland was
acquired in 1814. In 1867, Russia possessed about 106,951 Russian square
miles in Europe and the Caucasus, 248,470 in Asia, and 24,210 square
miles which were ceded to the United States in that year. Now behold a
great empire with a territory stretching from the Baltic to the Northern
Pacific, and from the Polar Sea to the frontiers of Turkey, Persia,
Afghanistan and China, crossed by systematically extended lines of
railway, and divided as in the United States of America, into two
portions, whose sources of development, difference in soil, character of
colonization and products, call for constant reference to the
distinctive titles of “the North” and “the South.” Moscow, the
commercial and industrial capital of the empire, which has remained the
home of passive conservatism and an asylum for the discontented,
preserves the tombs of the Grand Princes, and the palace in which the
Tsars of Muscovy lived and other monuments made sacred by tradition, six
centuries of historical associations surrounding the Kremlin.
St. Petersburg, a cosmopolitan city was built on a European design
especially favoring French models, with the purpose frankly avowed by
Peter the Great of having “a window by which the Russians might look
into civilized Europe.” Like Odessa it has more of a foreign than a
Russian character, but not more than one tenth of the population are
dwellers in the city, while the agricultural element is ever expanding.
THE SYSTEM OF GOVERNMENT.
The historical development of Russia has been peculiar, and her social
and political organization differs radically from that of the countries
of western Europe. Its autocracy is founded on the unbounded hereditary
devotion of the people,—peasantry and nobles alike. The entire
government of the vast empire is administered from St. Petersburg, on
the principle that the people are incapable of understanding the methods
of governing their local affairs, and from that or from other reasons,
are not to be trusted with them, so that the local self government is
anomalous. Created by autocratic power through a commission appointed
for the purpose of “conferring more unity and independence on the local
economic administration,” it has not grown into an institution from
popular wants publicly declared, petitioned for and advocated, but
derives its main motive power and maintenance from the Central
Government which controls it. Peter the Great (1682–1725) introduced
uniformity and symmetry into the administration of public affairs. After
the death of Patriarch Adrian of the Greek Church, and an interregnum of
twenty years, Peter supplied his place by an ecclesiastical council a
synod which still remains the highest ecclesiastical authority, in which
as a contemporary observed “the mainspring was Peter’s power, and the
pendulum his understanding.”
The members of the Synod are appointed by the Tsar who is accountable to
no one. Next to him in temporal power come the Council of State, the
Committee of Ministers, and the Senate, which is the sole Court of
Revision for the Justice of Peace Courts and for the Regular Tribunals,
and is the regulator of the whole judicial system of the empire. Below
these are ten ministries, viz., the Ministries of the Interior, Public
Works, State Demesnes, Finance, Justice, Public Instruction, War, Navy,
Foreign Affairs, and the Imperial Court.
The territorial administration is divided into provinces, and each
province into districts, all varying greatly in size. Over each province
is a governor, vice-governor, and council. The governor is the local
representative of the Ministry of the Interior and each of the other
ministries have their bureaus and representatives in the provinces drawn
chiefly from the nobility and the clergy. Every province and each of the
ten districts into which it is divided, has an assembly of deputies and
an executive bureau elected by the assembly from among its members, but
the president of the assembly is a Marshal of the Noblesse, and a limit
is placed to the taxation of trade and industry. The deputies are
elected by the landed proprietors of the rural communes, composed of
peasants, and the municipal corporations. The members of the Assembly
for the provinces are elected by the District Assemblies. The system of
government for the towns differs essentially from that of the country,
the towns receiving the advantage of the development of trade and
industry, the establishment of schools, etc. They are of three kinds,
“Government towns,” “District towns,” and supernumerary, each divided
into merchants, nondescript, and artisans, the artisans being partly
made up from the population of the agricultural districts. The towns
have a mayor and council.
THE SERFS.
Moscow has been described as the centre from which serfage radiated,
decreasing toward the north, east, and south.
According to the documents of the several periods and the statements of
travellers, the rural population of Russia was composed originally of
three classes, viz., slaves who were made so by various causes—some
prisoners of war, others freemen who had sold themselves as slaves,
others insolvent debtors and convicts. One grade higher were the free
farm hands who wandered from place to place, wherever they could find
work, and then the peasants or small farmers, a distinct class by
themselves, who were highest in the social scale, and who were
possessors of land and of their personal liberty. But in the eighteenth
century these distinctions gradually became obliterated on account of
the disproportion between the small number of laborers and the large
amount of irreclaimable land, systematized immigration being impossible,
and all the classes were rolled into one under the name of “serfs,” who
were owned by the great landed proprietors or by the state, and being
held as property were bought and sold in families and singly, and were
deprived of legal protection by the Government according to the ukazes
of October 13, 1675, and June 25, 1682, which sanctioned the practice of
selling peasants and the exaction of the payment to the Government of
dues on the sales of slaves. Free peasants were often kidnapped from
weaker by more powerful proprietors and made serfs, while the same class
although nominally free were so valuable to those who possessed their
services that they were not allowed to leave their borders, so by this
means, and often by reason of debts contracted to the proprietor a large
number became practically serfs before serfage was established by law,
_i.e._ before the Tsars discharged their obligations to the nobles by
bestowing upon them a certain amount of land with a certain number of
laborers attached, thus legalizing serfage and the return of fugitive
slaves. A small proportion of the nobles who lived on their estates held
the peasants as slaves.
Under Peter the Great (1682–1725) and his immediate successor every man
was compelled to serve the state, and every proprietor paid the poll tax
of his serfs, who were thus reckoned as taxable property, and every
unattached laborer was arrested as a vagrant. In 1766, by imperial
ukaze, the proprietors or masters had a right to transport unruly serfs
to Siberia for life without trial. In 1767 and 1781, it was ordered that
those who entered complaints against their masters, should be punished
with the knout or sent to the mines, or, what they feared most, made to
join the Army as recruits. In extreme cases of the cruelty of
proprietors, the authorities interfered by direction of the Tsar, who
happened to be informed of it. In 1792, the serfs were bought and sold,
and given away as part of the masters’ working capital, in large and
small numbers, with and without the land, but they were not allowed to
be sold by auction, nor to be offered for sale at the time of the
conscriptions. From 1792 to 1861, the estimate of a noble’s fortune was
based on the number of serfs he owned.
The Emperor Paul toward the close of the 18th century (1796–1801)
desiring to limit the authority of the proprietors, issued an ukaze that
the serfs should not be forced to work for their masters more than three
days in the week, but many paid no attention to it, and the serfs still
had no legal standing in court in order to make a complaint. There were
indeed enlightened, humane proprietors who protected those for whom they
were responsible from outside interference, and under whose management
the life of the serf was much easier than that of agricultural laborers
in some countries who are free, but serfage generally, was the reverse
of this type. The worst suffering was from the hands of speculators who
bought up the land in order to make money in the shortest possible time,
and parted with the land and the families on it indiscriminately.
Even among uncivilized tribes the Russian peasant is good natured,
easily conciliated, and patient under extreme hardship. He readily
adapts himself to circumstances.
In the ordinary relations which existed between the serf and the
proprietor the manor land and the communal land were kept separate. From
the laborers on the rural commune land or village system,—the rural
commune contains five-sixths of the population,—where a share of land
was distributed to each serf, labor dues, a certain number of days’
labor per week, were exacted, also, dues consisting of the products of
the farm and the spinning wheel, in the case of the absence of the serfs
who were at work in the cities or larger towns but retaining, whether
they desired it or not, their membership in the commune. A large
proportion of the serfs could read and write and were enterprising,
self-reliant, and independent.
EMANCIPATION OF THE SERFS.
The Russian proverb, “A story is soon told but a thing is not soon
done,” may be consistently applied to their great reform, one of the
most interesting events of modern history,—the Emancipation of the
Serfs. An effort was made for freedom in 1762, by an insurrection led by
a Cossack with a scheme for creating a peasant empire, but he soon met
with defeat and his plan failed.
In 1801, Alexander I. attempted to ameliorate the condition of the
serfs, and entertained several projects for a general emancipation, and
Nicholas encouraged the consideration of the question by permitting six
committees to be formed for the purpose. The result was that some
thousands of serfs were emancipated, the custom of giving grants of land
with peasants was abolished, a number of the worst masters were removed
from their estates, and some, convicted of murder, were sent to Siberia.
Yet, when a general emancipation was really inaugurated, the leading
organs of the press acknowledged indebtedness to the Crimean War for
opening the eyes of the country to the dark side of their political and
social organization. It produced an intellectual movement and a moral
revival which led to gigantic results. Their foes in the Crimea, said a
Russian writer of the time, whose manuscript was widely circulated but
never printed, were “British statesmen,” “the crowned conspirator of
France,” “treacherous Austria,” and “Western Europe generally.” Militia
regiments were everywhere raised throughout the country, and many landed
proprietors spent large sums in equipping volunteer corps, but
unscrupulous members of the commissary department enriched themselves at
the expense of these patriotic efforts, and the deficiency of the
country in regard to the resources necessary for a prolonged conflict,
were soon manifest. “Another year of war,” wrote an eye witness in 1855,
“and the whole of Southern Russia will be ruined.”
In this conflict it was the aim of the Tsar Nicholas to realize the
grand idea of Catherine II., consort of Peter III. who succeeded to his
throne, of driving the Turks out of Europe, but the Allies were
victorious, and even the despised Turks made a successful stand on the
line of the Danube, and when he, the “Iron Tsar,” the sworn enemy of
liberalism, died in a soldier’s humble quarters in the Crimea, the
system he created,—which through the sacrifice of the intelligence of
the people to the increase of military power proved the chief cause it
was claimed of the national disasters,—died with him, and as soon as
peace had been concluded Alexander II. accepting the responsibility of
the dying words of Nicholas, “my successor may do as he pleases, but I
cannot change,” began a reign by which the public administration of
affairs was to be improved, in the words of his manifesto “by the
combined efforts of the Government and the people,” not secretly by the
Administration as had been the custom in making slight changes.
In March, 1856, soon after the close of the Crimean War Alexander II.
addressed to the Marshals of the Noblesse of Moscow the following
words:—
“For the removal of certain unfounded reports I consider it necessary to
declare to you that I have not at present the intention of annihilating
serfage, but, certainly, as you yourselves know, the existing manner of
possessing serfs cannot remain unchanged. It is better to abolish
serfage from above, than to await the time when it will begin to abolish
itself from below. I request you, gentlemen, to consider how this can be
put into execution, and to submit my words to the noblesse for their
consideration.”
These enunciations were received with indifference, and further action
was indefinitely postponed, to the great disappointment of the Tsar, who
at once instituted a committee called “Chief Committee of Peasant
Affairs,” composed of high officers of the state, and great land owners,
among them the Grand Duke Constantine, who should privately work for
these ends, and who would make a study of the subject for six months,
and on the assumption that the Lithuanian provinces where the serfs were
in a miserable condition desired it, “The Rescript of Nazimof” was
prepared, empowering the proprietors to form committees for the study of
this project with a view to definite results in effecting the gradual
abolition of serfage, and four days later a circular was sent by
direction of the Tsar, to the Governors and Marshals of Noblesse all
over Russia, informing them of the action relative to the Lithuanian
Provinces, and a copy of the rescript was furnished them in case they
were disposed to follow suit. This circular produced an immense
sensation. Its meaning was unmistakable, and convincing to loyal
subjects of the Tsar, for a few weeks later he made public announcement
of his wish that, with the help of God, and the co-operation of the
Noblesse, the great work would be accomplished. The public press most
enthusiastically sustained this liberal movement for the amelioration of
the condition of so large a proportion of the population and welcomed
the dawn of a glorious epoch for the nation in which this obstacle to
moral progress, a relic of barbarism, should be removed, and Russia be
placed on equality with the nations of the West, and with these
advocates were joined a majority of the noblesse, among whom were
numerous educated young enthusiasts, while some still clung to serfage
as an indispensable source of revenue not to be obtained except under
the rigid rule of the master, and a part of the land was to be let go to
the peasants. These considerations formed an adverse current which was
felt throughout the country, but no open opposition to the will of the
Tsar was allowed to manifest itself, because of its utter futility.
Still, when in 1857, it became evident that the emancipation of the
serfs was really at hand the prospect raised terrible forebodings in the
minds of masters, stewards, and employers of serfs. By law, it appeared
that the peasants would receive the land which they occupied on
sufferance, comprising half of the entire arable land of some estates,
but no pasturage, and it was feared that the emancipated peasants would
be content to live by the cultivation of their own land, and would not
consent on any terms to work for their former masters.
During the year 1858, committees were formed for the purposes of
emancipation in every province where serfage existed, the projects which
they proposed being always subject to revision and approval or rejection
by the Government. The fundamental principles of the movement were
intended to accomplish the work of emancipation by allowing the serfs to
remain for a time on the land subject to the authority of the
proprietors, and during this time they should become possessors, by many
payments or by labor, of their houses and gardens, and have the
temporary use of a certain quantity of land sufficient for their own
support, and their taxes to the proprietors and the State. The limit of
this transition period does not seem to have been prescribed. The next
move was the appointment of an “Elaboration Commission,” composed of
officials and landed proprietors named by the Tsar, which formulated a
new plan, approved by the Tsar, in which the idea of gradual
emancipation was eliminated, and its place was supplied by a general law
for the complete abolition of the authority of the proprietor over the
serf. Thus the serfs were to be transformed into small proprietors of a
commune or village, possessing a house and garden and a section of
communal land. The serf was to be declared personally free, and a price
was to be fixed by Government for the rent of the land. As to the
amount, that was limited to the land actually enjoyed by the peasants.
Before the project became a law, deputies from the Provincial Committees
were summoned to St. Petersburg for consultation in matters of detail
before the commission, but this was a mere formality and added nothing
to the influence of the Provincial Committees, or to future results. The
autocratic power remained supreme. In the opinion of the Tsar, “The
autocratic power created serfage, and the autocratic power ought to
abolish it.”
In 1861, as the time drew nearer there was great excitement all over
Russia. An actor in one of the St. Petersburg theatres shouted from the
stage,—“Let us proclaim throughout all Russia that the time has come for
tearing up evil by the roots!” And the audience responded with frantic
demonstrations of enthusiasm. Speech was free, open, and unrestrained by
police or press censors, and public attention was absorbed by the great
practical issues of the day. The Crimean war had shown the necessity of
constructing railroads, improving roads, and steamboat communication on
the rivers, of developing the natural resources, and had taught them the
lesson that even an efficient army could not be produced from an
ignorant population. Accordingly in current speech and in the public
press different methods of education were discussed, and reforms in all
the branches of the civil service, and as a result of all this they
expected an increase of military power and the consequent respect of
Western nations.
For the furtherance of these reforming projects, for the reason that
twenty millions of the people, one third of the population, were in a
state of bondage, precedence was given to the question of the condition
of the serfs. There were 100,247 landed proprietors, and of these more
than 41,000 were possessors of less than twenty-one male serfs. A
proprietor who was owner of 500 serfs was not considered very rich, and
there were only 3,803 of these. There were a few whose possessions were
enormous. One of the nobles possessed more than 150,000 male serfs, more
than 300,000 souls; the latter estimate naturally including females,
though the Russians have a popular saying that “Women have no souls at
all, but only a vapor.” Another noble owned more than half a million of
acres of land, another extensive mines, but there were few very rich
families. By far the greater part of the territory belonged to the
state, and one-half of the rural population were state peasants whose
condition differed from the other serfs in that they had more land and
more liberty, and their position was not so precarious.
Agriculture and the industries languished for the lack of free labor,
and upon the nation’s honor was the stigma of slavery.
The emancipation law which was signed February 19, 1861, Old Style, or
March 3d as we reckon time, liberated twenty millions of serfs. The
manifesto with which the peasantry is said to have been disappointed,
was read in all the churches and contained these fundamental principles,
to wit:—
“1. That the serfs should at once receive the civil rights of the free
rural classes, and that the authority of the proprietors should be
replaced by communal self-government.
2. That the rural communes should as far as possible retain the land
they actually held, and should in return pay to the proprietor certain
yearly dues in money or labor.
3. That the Government should by means of credit, assist the communes to
redeem these dues, or, in other words, to purchase the lands ceded to
them in usufruct.”
The domestic serfs should continue to serve their masters two years, and
thereafter they should be completely free, but would have no claim on
the land. The disappointment in the minds of the peasants was in the
disposition of the land. Many desired that all the land should be given
to the Communes, making the emancipation in accordance with traditional
right and their material advantage, instead of which they were still to
pay dues on land they believed to be their own by right. The Noblesse
were well pleased with the manifesto.
After a delay of three months, “Arbiters of the Peace” were appointed,
to regulate the future relations between the proprietors and peasantry
and in the interval cases of insubordination were frequent, and even
riots, when order was preserved by the calling out of the troops. The
“Arbiters of the Peace” when organized restored order and regulated the
land question, issued charters, etc. between the proprietors and serfs,
legalizing the new agreements, with or without their consent. In this
reconstruction many differences were to be reconciled owing to the
distrust of the freed serfs, but gradually they came to know the
situation better and to help in the progress of the work, which has
advanced slowly but surely, notwithstanding the complaints in some
instances of the Noblesse, through the wonderful tact of the
conscientious “Arbiters of the Peace.”
The law relating to the dues was as follows:—The dues were capitalised
at six per cent and the Government paid at once to the proprietors
four-fifths of the whole sum. The peasants were to pay to the proprietor
the remaining fifth, either at once or in installments, and to the
Government six per cent, for forty-nine years, on the sum advanced. This
arrangement was willingly acceded to by the proprietors but the peasants
were so backward in their payments, that in most cases their fifth had
to be remitted.
Of this gigantic, though gradual, reform the Tsar Alexander II. is
acknowledged by all to be the chief and most energetic and judicious
promoter. He was ably assisted by his brother the Grand Duke Constantine
and the Grand Duchess Helena, a German Princess, aided by the Noblesse
and the landed proprietors, who when assured that emancipation was
inevitable joined enthusiastically in its execution, and also by the
peasantry of the better sort as soon as they comprehended the advantages
of the law which gave them back their original status in the social
scale, and made them once more personally free.
AFTER EMANCIPATION.
It was so-called freedom in 1861, but they had to serve as they had done
for two years longer, for the law had a provision enjoining them to obey
and work as hard as of old until some new arrangement should be made. On
appealing to the authorities the field work was executed, after a
fashion, but the harvest suffered for a few years, until the peasants
began to realize the burden of the taxes they were obliged to pay on the
land, as well as support themselves, and consented to work in the fields
of their former owners for a moderate compensation, taking advantage of
the scarcity of labor, and taking their leave on a word or two too much
from their employers, who are dependent upon them. Previous to
emancipation it was said that the Russians had little or no practical
acquaintance with pauperism, but now some became fugitives, and made it
a permanent condition of life, wandering through the cities and villages
as professing pilgrims or beggars, and were supported by the alms giving
of the merchants, the public generally and the monasteries.
THE RURAL COMMUNES.
The government of the Rural Commune or Mir, as established by the Act of
Emancipation, is by a Village Assembly and a Village Elder, but the
Elder’s authority is limited by the heads of households, all having a
common responsibility and paying a fixed sum into the common treasury;
even the time of planting, mowing and harvesting, being regulated by the
Assembly, and all the households are equally responsible for the taxes
and dues. The consent of the Assembly must be obtained if a peasant
desires to work in the larger towns, for his liabilities must be made
secure.
Every year the Village has to pay a certain sum into the Imperial
Treasury, according to the number of male peasants; each Village
distributing the land, according to its own judgment, with taxes and
dues in proportion to the land, sometimes according to the working power
of the families, which may change every few years, males and females
alike working on the land.
In the meetings of the assemblies the majority rules, and is decided by
a Court of the members, composed of heads of households of both sexes,
standing in groups out of doors.
The office of Village Elder is sometimes elective, at others he is
appointed by the landed proprietor. The office is not sought for, the
duties being troublesome and annoying, and the pay small. In the
allotment of the land the number of shares of which may or may not be of
advantage, according to the peculiar circumstances of each, the decision
of the Commune is accepted without demur. Some of these divisions take
place annually, others at irregular intervals. The system compels the
peasant to possess land whether he or she desires it or not. Every
peasant, by the simple fact of his birth, possesses an inalienable right
to a share of the land.
All that is necessary for their existence, their houses, land,
agricultural implements etc., are exempt from sequestration, and cannot
be taken for debt. The peasants on the land belonging to the state, have
no masters, but are not allowed to change their official domicile. They
pay taxes and dues. Many of them have left the villages and have amassed
fortunes in the cities, still retaining their hold on the land by paying
the taxes. The remaining land belongs to rich nobles, who rarely visit
their estates, and the condition of the peasants is much the same as
that of the state peasants, while others live on their estates.
Now, forty-three of the forty-nine years have passed, and in January,
1904, the Tsar Nicholas II. grandson of Alexander II., in response to
calls for legislation relative to a new draft of the present code, with
complaints of arbitrary conduct by the administrative machinery from the
highest assemblies to the local committees, stipulates that changes on
three points shall be reserved from discussion, namely, that the peasant
class must remain entirely separate, legally, from the other classes;
that the Commune is to remain untouched by legislation, and that the
peasant lands are to remain inalienable. The autocratic power still
remains supreme. March 3, 1904, for the first time since the
Emancipation of the serfs the anniversary was officially observed
throughout the empire as a general holiday and with special services in
the churches. Thousands stood in the open air, uncovered, in the great
central market of St. Petersburg chanting a Te Deum.
DEATH OF ALEXANDER II.
I was returning to my room in Paris, late one Sunday night in March,
1881, having passed an agreeable evening, first dining at my old
classmate’s, E. D. Boit’s, then listening to some music and meeting some
pleasant people at the house of another artist Mr. G. P. A. Healy, and
last calling with Wad Longfellow upon the Kings, when I heard a newsman
on the boulevard crying out something exciting though I could not catch
what it was. I bought his extra, “le Soir,” took it to my room, and
found that the news was nothing less than this time the successful
assassination on the 13th of the Emperor of Russia.
It made quite an impression upon me as I thought it over, not only
because I had met the Tsar two or three times, but also from the
interest I felt he had taken in the cause of the Union during our civil
war; that he among the crowned heads of the world had been, if not our
only, at least our out-spoken friend and sympathizer.
How much in common there was both in the life and death of Alexander II.
and Abraham Lincoln! Each of these men in his own land had been the
originator and bold champion of a plan of emancipation, and each of them
had at length fallen by the hand of an assassin!
Prince Kropotkin in 1899, gave to the _Atlantic Monthly_ the following
account of the death of the Tsar:—
“A bomb was thrown under the Tsar’s iron-clad carriage. Several
Circassians of the escort were wounded. Rysakoff, who flung the bomb,
was arrested on the spot. Then, although the coachman of the Tsar
earnestly advised him not to get out, saying that he could drive him
still in the slightly damaged carriage, he stepped out. He felt that his
military dignity required him to see the wounded Circassians, to condole
with them, as he had done with the wounded during the Turkish war, when
a mad storming of Plevna, doomed to end in terrible disaster, was made
on the day of his fête.
He approached Rysakoff and asked him something, and as he passed close
by another young man, Grinevetsky, the latter threw his bomb at their
feet, between himself and Alexander II., so that both of them should be
killed by the terrible engine. They lived but a few hours.
There Alexander II. lay upon the snow, profusely bleeding, abandoned by
every one of his followers! All had disappeared. It was cadets,
returning from the parade, who lifted the bleeding Tsar from the snow,
and put him in a sledge, covering his shivering body with a cadet
mantle, and his bare head with a cadet cap. And it was one of the
Terrorists, Emelianoff, with a bomb wrapped in a paper under his arm,
who, at the risk of being arrested on the spot and hanged, rushed with
the cadets to help the wounded man! Human nature is full of these
contrasts.”
It was at the canal bridge near the Nevski Prospect that the bomb which
shattered the body of the Tsar below the waist was thrown, and he died
within an hour at his rooms in the Winter Palace. It is said that these
rooms and their contents have never been disturbed in the least since
the murdered Tsar left them for his drive. The hands of the clock on the
mantel still point to 33 minutes past 3, the moment the Tsar expired.
MONUMENT AT MOSCOW.
August 28, 1898, a monument to Tsar Alexander II. was unveiled at
Moscow. His grandson, the present Tsar, Nicholas II. issued a ukase
referring to the event and eulogizing the deeds of the deceased, notably
the liberation of the peasants from bondage, which earned him the title
of “The Deliverer,” in the mouth of a grateful people. The closing words
were as follows:—
MEDALS MADE HEREDITARY.
“Wishing to seal more firmly the memory of this historical deed, we
have resolved to make hereditary the wearing and possession of the
medals he conferred upon his co-operators, as a sign of his gracious
acknowledgment of their labors.”
The Tsar also sent to M. Constantin Pobiedonostseff, Procurator General
of the Holy Synod, the decoration of the Order of St. Andrew, together
with an imperial rescript reminding him that he, of all the close
co-operators with the deceased monarch, alone remained in possession of
the chiefship of the administrative department then intrusted to him.
The monument was unveiled by Emperor Nicholas II. at 3 o’clock in the
afternoon, in the presence of the Czarina, the Queen of the Hellenes,
the Cabinet, the German and Austrian Ambassadors, deputations from all
the land and naval forces of Russia and the Austrian Uhlans Regiment.
The entire audience knelt while the clergy recited a prayer in memory of
the deceased.
At the moment of the unveiling the troops presented arms, and a salute
of 320 guns was fired. Then the troops, with the Emperor at the head,
marched past the monument amid the enthusiastic cheers of the people.
[Illustration:
ODESSA, 1899.
]
CHAPTER TENTH.
EUROPE AND AMERICA IN 1870. DEMETRIUS GOUBAREFF. RUSSIA AND THE UNITED
STATES.
“Peace—but the ships of steel increase,
And statesmen watch, perplexed:
What is the thing we folk term ‘peace’?
Where will the war be next?”
—_Edwin L. Sabin._
IN LONDON, PARIS AND NICE.
INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.
The ideas I give of Europe contained in the following sketch written in
London in April, 1870, came to me from a residence of two years there,
during which time I had been constantly watching events, and had been
thrown with many of the leading statesmen and financiers of the United
States.
What I pretended to know of the Eastern question, I learned from the
journey I made the previous autumn through Russia, Turkey and Egypt,
with General Banks. It then struck me that it would be well to open the
eyes of the American people to what was passing there as impartially as
possible, as thus far the English accounts had been one-sided. I may
appear to favor Russia too strongly, but the boat in which we made the
journey from Odessa to Egypt, and then through the Suez Canal, was
filled with Russian representatives, persons representing almost all the
Russian interests, and they spoke to us, being Americans, most freely on
these subjects, and in such a way that we were much impressed with the
high ambitions of that empire. It would have been difficult to have made
the journey under more favorable auspices.
The picture I drew of the future of the United States was very strong,
but the more one lives away from America, the more he appreciates her
greatness, and the position she must surely hold among the nations of
the world, and I thought it good to put the plain facts and statistics
before Europeans as well as Americans.
This paper, which I offered to the press, did not appear originally in
the form of a contribution, as the war suddenly broke out between France
and Prussia before this was accomplished, but I had copies of it printed
in a pamphlet for private circulation, and in that way it was quite
generally read and discussed.
I was of the opinion that neither Americans nor Europeans were
sufficiently alive to the position which the United States was destined
soon to hold among the nations of the world, and that they ought to be
diligently preparing themselves for it.
Having faith that the Great Republic will not only remain undivided, but
increase in territory, population and strength, it logically follows
that she must later be the controlling power. In her, humanity,
commingled together and then reorganized, will practically carry out the
idea of self-government, and such a government, if successful, will be
irresistible.
“EUROPE AND AMERICA IN 1870.”
“Wars and rumors of wars must be, it would seem, for many years to
come the staple of talk in Europe. Nor is this remarkable, so many
different nationalities and languages, so much intelligence and
energy, and so many shades of ambition being concentrated in a small
space of territory. Thus far in the history of the Old World those in
power have generally sought by arms or state craft to strengthen the
country in whose destiny they were interested. Constant wars have been
the result.
The principles of international interest, of working in harmony to
develop the resources of the globe, of which perhaps the best exponent
is trade and the necessary concomitant peace, have been unfortunately
considered beneath the dignity of those who by birth, by fortune, or
by talent, have been able to hold leading positions. Happily this is
being changed. The great discoveries of the last fifty years have
given the world such an impulse as it never received before. The
comparative ease of making money and of possessing it in safety, has
caused persons to look after their own interest more than that of
those who chanced to be their rulers. But the process of change is
slow, and emperors and kings are still able to make wars even in
opposition to the will of their subjects. Wars are still not only a
possibility, but a probability, and every one is on the lookout for
them. When there is lack of other business, the cabinets of Europe
will turn their attention to the always vexed question of the balance
of power.
When newspaper editors are in want of interesting matter to fill their
sheets, they can ever bring out a glowing statement of the Eastern
question, or dilate upon the relations existing between France and
Prussia.
The map of Europe never ceases to be an entertaining study, and so a
slight review of the present state of affairs there, as seen and
judged by the disinterested traveller, may perhaps offer some points
of interest to those who are unable to make the journey themselves.
No one nation in Europe, today, seems to have a preponderating
influence over the others.
ENGLAND AND FRANCE.
England and France for a long time the most powerful have not, during
the last ten years, been making any international progress, and if
they have not by this been actually losing their influence, they have
remained in a state of inaction, while others have made great advances
to equal or eclipse them. Nor is there to be seen in them any prospect
of changing their policy.
England is so much occupied with domestic questions, especially those
relating to Ireland, that she can give little time or thought to
anything else, unless of very great import.
In France the holding the various discordant elements in check, and
forming out of them a strong and popular government, is absorbing all
the talent of her statesmen. The aggressive enterprises that the
existing government, or rather that its head, has lately undertaken,
have been so fruitless and so doubtfully indorsed by the people, that
it is not probable anything of the kind will again be tried unless
upon an almost certainty of success.
PRUSSIA.
Prussia may with a certain show of reason consider herself the leader,
but her, so to speak, inland position, and the consequent difficulty
of her having great naval or commercial power, prevent her from taking
that place to which her arms and politics might entitle her. Besides
this her relations with both Northern and Southern Germany are in a
preparatory state, and the uncertainty of her future movements, and of
how they will be accepted, is a present point of weakness. She is
recognized to be the strongest German nation, but the smaller
independencies, certain though they may be of becoming eventually
absorbed, are tenacious of preserving their individuality as long as
possible. They hesitate about siding with or against Prussia, and as
she cannot well now press the question, matters are more or less at a
standstill.
AUSTRIA.
Austria cannot, since the Peace of Prague, be regarded as a
first-class power of Europe; she must regain her lost strength first,
and for some time to come she will best attempt this by solidifying
her relations with Hungary, and by infusing more advanced principles
of government into the authorities at Vienna.
SPAIN.
In Spain, affairs are still holding their uneasy course, and the world
looks on astonished at the way the country is taking care of itself;
so many forms of government proposed by so many different candidates
that, in reality, there is next to none whatever, but, to balance
this, a fair amount of contentment among the people. Not knowing what
they wish, the Spaniards drift on very well with what they have.
ITALY.
In Italy, economy is so necessary to preserve the country, that no
thought can be given to any foreign ventures, while at Rome all other
questions are dropped, so long as the Ecumenical Council is sitting
there in state.
DENMARK, NORWAY AND SWEDEN.
Denmark, Norway and Sweden, are engaged in discussing topics of much
local interest, and which may perhaps, result in the unity of the
three nations, but they will have little influence upon the general
march of events in Europe.
RUSSIA.
Russia remains, as the last great nation to be discussed, and here, on
the stepping stone between Eastern and Western ideas and
civilizations, can be found the germs of those movements which if not
immediately forthcoming, will, when they burst forth, startle the
world with their grandeur, and essentially change the features of the
map of Europe.
The Russian Empire as it exists today,—the Russia of Alexander II. and
Gortschakoff,—the country which has emancipated twenty million serfs
and offered an equal trial by jury to all its citizens, this nation,
which, day by day is increasing its territory and influence at home,
and which during a civil war in the other hemisphere extended a kindly
though many will say a not disinterested hand to the party which
represented progressive principles, the Russian Empire, the friend of
the American Republic, has many qualities which might justly entitle
it to leadership, but the strange mixture of European and Asiatic
elements in that country, so great in extent and so ambitious of
progress, as interpreted by it, is the cause of a confusion of ideas,
and prevents that unanimity of action which is necessary to insure the
respect and obedience of others.
Moreover, although the spirit of the people is extremely democratic,
the policy of the government is autocratic, and in the latter part of
this century it is impossible for any but a government founded on
popular principles and supported by the people themselves, to command
the esteem and the envy of the masses in other portions of the
civilized world, and thus to give them laws. The seeds of dominion are
there, but it will take time for them to ripen and bear their fruit.
THE EQUIPOISE OF POWER.
From this slight review of the position of the European nations in
1870, one cannot help being impressed with the equipoise of power, and
concluding that this itself is a strong guarantee of peace, but, in
reality the peace is not well founded, and cannot be abiding. It is an
armed peace, and as such, may cause the people deep anxiety. Several
millions of men in Europe, today, are wearing the dress and drawing
the pay of soldiers, and all for nothing. Disarming is continually
talked of, but is not being begun, nor will it be, as long as the
nations are mutually afraid of each other. The pursuits of industry
and commerce, which would develop with increasing force if peace were
secure for ten or twenty years, are now, to a great extent, held in
check. Capitalists are afraid of embarking in great enterprises, as
they know not what may take place before they will be completed.
Thousands of laborers, able-bodied and intelligent, through fear of
being drawn into military service are leaving the lands of their birth
and emigrating to distant shores, there to seek their fortunes: a
great gain to the countries which receive them, but a more than
proportionate loss to those they leave, as their places cannot be
filled.
One should not seriously wish for war, except in the most extreme
cases, and where the prospect of the good to follow seems more than to
compensate for the immediate evil.
LOOKING INTO THE FUTURE.
Without admitting this to be the case now, but believing that the
present peace cannot, from the press of circumstances last many years,
let us look a little into the future, and try to divine where it will
be first broken, and what will be the results. It is to the East of
Europe we must turn our thoughts, and here it seems as if great events
would soon be in motion. The problem to be solved is the dismemberment
of the Ottoman Empire, and the consequent independence of one nation,
and the increase in power of several others.
The actors in the drama will be Turkey, Russia, Egypt, Greece, and
perhaps the Slavonic portions of Austria, the theatre will be parts of
Europe, Asia, and Africa, and the most interested spectators will be
France, England, and the United States.
THE POSSESSION OF CONSTANTINOPLE.
It must be well borne in mind that the integrity of Turkey has been
guaranteed for many years, if not actually preserved, by the cabinets
of France and England. So many pamphlets and articles have been
written by those representing the interests of those governments on
one side, and so little has been said on the opposite side, that it
has almost become an acknowledged fact that the carrying out of this
idea is necessary for the peace of Europe and of the world. Their
arguments are strong, but will not influence him who visits
Constantinople with an unprejudiced mind. The key to the riddle is the
possession of that city. England and France know that they themselves
cannot obtain it, and this being the case, they are determined to do
all in their power to prevent any other nation from doing so. It is
almost impossible for one who has not been there himself, to form a
fair opinion of what should be the future of that beautiful city of
the East, but once there, the decision is soon reached that it should
no longer belong to the Turks, but to some people, whoever they may
be, who will do justice to the advantages Nature has given it.
Constantinople is so placed that it is one of the keys of the waters
of the world, and as such it ought to be a great commercial centre.
The city, as it now is, renders this impossible, and the Turks,
judging from their antecedents and their present manner of existence,
are incapable of change.
A distinguished statesman of the United States (Gen. N. P. Banks) one
day asked the Turkish minister at Washington, if in his country there
were many persons celebrated for their success in finance or business.
The Minister slowly opened his dark mysterious eyes, and with a
half-amused, half-pitying gaze, replied:—
‘Sir, my countrymen know nothing of affairs, the Turks are warriors.’
In the quiet answer of that Turk, a man who held not only a high
position in his own country, but had also seen the active life in
America, there is a meaning which one cannot well appreciate who has
not been among the people of whom he spoke. They seem to belong to a
different age and world from ours. They know almost nothing of the
wonderful things every day done in this nineteenth century, and, if
they are told, they take but little interest, and are incapable of
comprehending them.
As already stated the city of Constantinople, until radically changed,
does not admit of greatness. Some of the civilizing appliances of this
century judiciously put in movement, would soon change the mysterious
city of the Orient, replete with the souvenirs of Constantine and
Mohammed, into a great commercial mart. The past would be sacrificed
for the future, but the sacrifice would be justifiable. Useless
Romance would drop her fascinating garment, and stand arrayed as the
goddess of Practical Progress.
The question then is, who will begin the work?
The Turks will certainly not; indeed, their opposition to it will be
so strong that it cannot well be undertaken until they see that their
empire is broken, and that their natural refuge is over the water into
Asia, where they belong.
The mover of all this will be a nation which has the most to gain from
the results,—Russia, and fortunately a nation fired with the ambitions
of progress, and with sufficient power to be able to carry them out.
The intelligent men of Russia know that it is needful to the dignity
of the nation, as a sentiment, to its safety militarily, and to its
commercial prosperity, to have all the water rights and privileges in
the Black Sea, and in the straits which connect it with those waters
which are acknowledged to be the common property of mankind. Until
this is brought about their machinery is clogged, and for this the
possession of Constantinople is so important as almost to be a
necessity.
The Russians are already at the work, and the faster it advances the
better. Slowly and steadily since the peace was signed at the end of
the Crimean War, the government at St. Petersburg, deeply humbled
then, is preparing for the struggle which will restore her lost
rights, and give her many additional ones. Day by day, she is
spreading out her net-work of railroads, steamboats, telegraphs, and
post-roads; imperceptibly she is increasing her territory, and this on
principles so judiciously arranged for the conquered, that each fresh
Asiatic horde absorbed, soon becomes as proud of the grandeur of
Russia as if it had always been a part of the empire. Vessels for the
navy and commerce are being built on her northern and southern seas,
and her large inland rivers; her grain-trade is rapidly increasing,
and her rich mines and other resources are being developed. Besides
all this, she has a strong point of safety in the intense feeling of
nationality, daily swelling, which pervades all the Muscovites. In
sentiment the army is a unit, and the entire population of the vast
empire shout wildly on every occasion for the health and prosperity of
the Tsar.
There may be something barbaric in all this, but it is the stuff out
of which national greatness can be made, and it may cause anxiety to
those countries where such a feeling does not exist.
THE COUNTRY OF THE PHARAOHS.
The nation most interested after Russia, in the division of Turkey,
perhaps as much or even more interested, because her own independence
is the prize she can win, is Egypt, that historic land, which, once
the mistress of the world, but today a vassal, has in the future as
fine a destiny as could be desired. The canal lately opened through
the Isthmus of Suez, has done more for Egypt than fifty ordinary years
might have accomplished.
It has turned the thoughts of civilized Europe for more than ten years
upon that country; it has kept their attention interested, and the
result has been more than satisfactory.
Europe has not, in modern days, expected to find much good in the
country of the Pharaohs, but it has found that although matters there
are not what the sanguine might wish, they are still unquestionably in
every point where comparison is possible, very far in advance of
Turkey.
The infusion of Western ideas into the inhabitants of a land who have
been brought up for centuries to despise them, is no easy task, but
this the Vice Roi of Egypt has been attempting, and with fair success.
He appreciates the age in which he lives as any one who has visited
Cairo can plainly see, and he feels his superiority over the Sultan so
strongly, that he is merely waiting for the time to be ripe, to openly
disobey the orders from Constantinople, and assert his independence.
Many thought, and with reason, that at the opening of the Suez Canal
the time for this action had come, but nothing was then done, perhaps
because the armed force of the Khedive was insufficient for the
attempt, or that having accomplished a great commercial success, he
hesitated risking a military failure, or, more probably still, because
the diplomatic complications were such that he could not make an
advantageous alliance.
For what is to be done Egypt should go hand-in-hand with Russia, but
at the present time this is a difficult combination to form.
In constructing the Suez Canal, France has done everything for Egypt,
and the presence of the Empress Eugénie at the opening ceremonies was
the natural culmination of the work.
An alliance between France and Egypt, strong enough to give France a
foothold in the East, and thereby to checkmate the power of England,
but not binding her to make a rupture with the rulers at
Constantinople on the question of Egyptian independence, would be a
fine thing for Napoleon, but would do Ismail little good. A rational
alliance between Russia and Egypt, each country working for itself and
the other, would be desirable enough, but for this it would be
necessary to give France the cold shoulder, and in return receive her
resentment.
Russia, France, and Egypt, cannot now combine together. The results of
the Crimean war are not forgotten at St. Petersburg, and, besides
this, the existing relations between Russia and Prussia on other
European questions are such that the former cannot yet offer France a
friendly hand.
The ambition of Napoleon is boundless, but he knows that the prestige
he would acquire in working out the independence of Egypt, would be
overbalanced by what would fall to the share of the Emperor of Russia.
England, too, could not keep out of the dispute, and although lately
she has been very silent on the Eastern question, at the moment of
action, regardless of what she has done in the past, and of her
half-promises for the future, she would bring great force to bear, and
in such a way as to derive advantage for herself alone.
The Austro-Hungarian Empire and Greece have both something to gain
from the dismemberment of the Ottoman Empire, but, in their present
condition, they must move in the wake of others, they cannot lead the
operations. A masterly brain and arm might unite the different
Slavonic elements on the banks of the Danube, part of which now belong
to Turkey, and amalgamate them into the Austrian Empire, but it is
doubtful if this would be a desirable move, for, while it would give
strength in territory and population to Austria, it would tend to
weaken the German element of the country, and this would be fatal if
she wishes to be regarded as the great South-German nation.
The title of Kaiser of Germans, always has and could still give
prestige, but the same title held by one whose empire was in reality
composed of Slavs, would not, but on the contrary aid the government
of Prussia in its plans of German unity, and unity on a more
democratic basis. Austria’s best course, therefore, would be to take
no active part, but to await the results and turn them as best she
could to her advantage.
The Greeks and Turks have never loved each other, and while Greece is
too weak for definite action at first, she could later lend a helping
hand in the movements which would result in restoring to her the
provinces of Thessaly and Epirus, which though under the dominion of
Turkey are Greek in everything but the name. Greece thus regenerated,
might again become quite an important country, and with the commerce
which the Suez Canal opens to her with the Indies, take her place as a
growing maritime nation.
There are no other important moves now apparent in the horizon of
European politics. As mentioned above, the great powers are too much
interested in domestic affairs to be able to give much thought to what
their neighbors are doing.
It has been expected by many that the continued growling heard both
from France and Prussia, would sooner or later end in open rupture and
war, (The Franco-Prussian war broke out three months later, July 19,
1870.) but one who watches the course of events closely can see that
while they both say they are ready, neither of them desires to break
the peace. Neither will be the first to sound the alarm, for they both
know they have almost nothing to gain from the result, for, should the
war come, it would accomplish little but the destruction of the lives
of many thousand soldiers. Whichever side was victorious, the boundary
line between the two nations would be but slightly changed. The
existing line is the natural one, for it is the line of language and
race, and, although war could move it on one side or the other, for a
time, it would soon fall back again to the plane from which it
started. The strength of the two nations is so nearly equal that
neither can absorb portions of the other. The Rhine is a German river,
and neither diplomacy nor war can make it French.
THE NON-INTERVENTION OF THE UNITED STATES.
And now, in conclusion, what position should the Government, or rather
the people of the United States, take in relation to the march of
events in Europe? Are we to hold forever to our established principle
of non-intervention, when we conscientiously believe that judicious
intervention would often advance the cause of progress?
Better at least keep the right of speaking and acting as we please,
but use it sparingly, and never hesitate to give sympathy and moral
aid,—sometimes more helpful than actual assistance,—to the parties in
any struggle which we believe to have justice on their side.
But when we look into the future, and a no very distant future at
that, and consider that at the end of this century we shall be a
nation of one hundred millions, thinking persons can easily see that
the preponderance of strength in our favor will be so overwhelming,
that non-intervention will be a practical impossibility. The weak of
the earth will come to us for protection, and we shall not wish to
throw them off.
What a country it will be in 1900!
One hundred million people, all with a strong sense of liberty, but
not of license; all educated, or desirous and able to become so; all
ambitious, because the highest prizes are within their reach; nearly
all speaking one language: with private fortunes greater than the
world has ever seen, and with the natural resources of the country
then in their flower.
One cannot dwell upon this prospect without swelling with pride, and
at the same time almost trembling at its very grandeur.
The mighty Republic of the United States, which sprang into existence
less than a century ago, will be the acknowledged law-giver and
arbiter of the entire world.
Perhaps at no time has the temptation for us to mix in the affairs of
Europe been so strong as today, because, selfishly speaking, we have
everything to gain and nothing to lose. (It must be remembered that
_every word_ of this article was written in 1870.) A mere spark which
could any moment be struck at Washington would in three months’ time
set Europe in flames.
An excuse like the Cuban difficulty (The independence of Cuba,
achieved at the close of the century by the assistance of the United
States in its war with Spain), the long pending question of the
Alabama Claims, (Claims of the United States upon Great Britain for
damages by the _Alabama_ and other Confederate cruisers, settled in
1872, at Geneva, by a court of arbitration.) the relations between the
Sultan and the Khedive, or the foolishness now between France and the
United States about the postal treaty or the Atlantic cable. Any of
these would be sufficient to do the work, and what would be the
result? (The postal union was formed by a congress of delegates
representing the principal governments of Europe and the United
States, assembled at Berne, Switzerland, in September, 1874. A treaty
was concluded establishing a uniform rate of postage for letters of 5
cents per half ounce.)
Thousands and thousands of able-bodied men, with no taste for war, and
especially war for the gratification of crowned heads, would seize
every opportunity of leaving their native lands and hastening to
America. It would be impossible to prevent them.
Millions and millions of treasure seeking safe investment, would find
its way to the United States, and all that is wanted to develop the
country, is hands to work the natural resources and money to pay for
it.
America would become what England has been for many years, the strong
box of the world. England can be so no more.
Telegraph communication and steam have put her so near the continent
of Europe, that she can no longer be regarded as a sure land of refuge
for men or money. Nay, it is doubtful if she could actually keep out
of the conflict. The safe must be separated from the combatants by a
broader piece of water than the Straits of Dover. Three thousand miles
are not too much for perfect security. The action of the United States
could bring on any war it wished, but the country itself would have
nothing to fear. Its strength is so great that it could meet fairly in
the field any possible combination of the nations of Europe. The
feeling of animosity between the northern and southern states, which
has existed during the civil war, but which is happily now almost
over, would end in fraternal enthusiasm if the country should engage
in a popular war against any other nation. But the carnage once begun
in Europe could not be carried over the Atlantic, as there would be
enough to keep it there. The United States would be in any case the
attacked and not the attacking party, and modern warfare has arrived
at the point that, other things being equal, the party which attacks a
distant land is almost sure to be worsted.
What would fall to the lot of the United States would be the business
of the world. The carrying trade of the nations would be done by her,
and the problem of the revival of her shipping be by the action of
others solved. All the merchant vessels which plough the Atlantic and
Pacific oceans, would claim the protection of the Stars and Stripes,
and this means limitless sums of money poured into her treasury,
wealth to the country, and wealth to private individuals. The prestige
of her flag would be such as none ever had before.
THE PATH OF PEACE.
Such is the prospect which opens before the vision of the people of
the United States today. Deeply conscious of our great power, let us
be equally conscious of our responsibility in best employing that
power for the benefit of mankind. Let us remember that our path is the
path of peace, and not that of war, let us endeavor not to be turned
from it by the constant temptations of false glory, for, if we are, we
shall ourselves suffer for it later, and cause others to suffer.
It is for its to show to Europe, not what advantages can be derived
from war and diplomacy, which are the weapons of the past, but what
greater advantages can be derived from the weapons of the present and
the future,—the weapons of our own peculiar fabrication,—such as the
nobility of labor and universal education and freedom. Only by acting
thus shall we be able to prove to the nations who are even now
‘hanging breathless on our fate,’ that we truly carry with us a
grander civilization than has ever yet been seen.”
FROM A LETTER TO MY SISTER AT MANCHESTER.
“Club House, Newport, August 7, 1870: I was in Boston yesterday, and had
just about ten minutes at 39 Beacon street, where I found your nice
letter. I am very comfortably established here, in a little apartment
with my friend Bob. Winthrop of New York, and here I mean to have my
headquarters, running off occasionally to New York or Boston and I hope
before long to turn up at ‘Sharksmouth.’ I have been really very much
occupied the last month, what with my own affairs, _la haute finance_ at
Washington and New York, with the thermometer at 90°, and with
occasional visits to my friends, and have been very happy with all the
work. I have my old horse ‘Trumps’ from South Carolina, and he is in as
fine a condition as when I left him, more than two years ago. He reposes
in solitary dignity in the stable.
Poor Europe in 1870, is terribly changed!
I am going to print my little article in a pamphlet by itself, with an
introduction suited to the times, and will send you a copy when it
appears. I came to the conclusion that to alter it to suit the ever
changing news from Europe would be impossible, and would really spoil
it, and so I will let it remain as it is as one of my first literary
attempts.
I have been to Long Branch, and it is the most extraordinary American
political rendezvous I ever saw.
The war in Europe sickens me, so many thousand poor fellows to be
murdered and maimed for wicked personal ambition. The whole business of
the world is thrown into our hands,—I mean the United States of
America,—if we only take it.”
GOUBAREFF THE RUSSIAN.
Demetrius Goubareff was a very intelligent Russian, to whom I was
first introduced in 1871 or 1872. As a young man he had liberated
his serfs before the emancipation action of Alexander II. and had
been a progressive man in every way. He wrote a book entitled
“Philosophie—Religion.” He had, I believe, taken part in the
Crimean war, and then again in 1879, entered the service of his
country at the time of the later attempt to obtain possession of
Constantinople, which I have been informed was balked only by the
interposition of Bismarck. The matter I thought ought to have been
settled then and there.
Mr. Goubareff lived much at Nice and Paris, and often visited London. He
kept up an extensive correspondence with many interesting persons.
He passed Sunday with me at Vevey, Switzerland, in March, 1876, and we
had an excellent chance to talk there quietly and at our leisure. I
found that he was much interested in the “Association for the
Codification and Reform of the Law of Nations,” of which, on my
proposing him, he became a member. I was very glad of this because he
proposed to make a good deal of occupation for himself out of it,
getting acquainted, and opening correspondence with many of the
distinguished persons who were on the list of its members, and would
prove a very valuable addition to the organization.
The following month in Paris Mr. Goubareff introduced me to the Golovine
family, and we dined with them and strolled together in the beautiful
gardens of St. Germain.
RUSSIA AND THE UNITED STATES.
WRITTEN IN BOSTON IN 1873.
“A good deal has been said and written the last ten years, about the
strong friendship existing between Russia and the United States, the
coquetting, as it has been called, of these two nations with each
other.
That such an _entente cordiale_ has existed is beyond all dispute, but
the causes of it open a wide field for discussion.
The nations of Europe who have watched its progress with some evident
alarm for themselves, have come forward with many unasked-for
explanations, to clearly prove that such a thing is out of all reason,
that it should not be, that it is all nonsense, thereby admitting all
the more plainly the ugly fact. Particularly kind and disinterested
have they been in their advice to the youthful United States, warning
her to be careful, lest she be outwitted by the shrewd diplomacy of
the Muscovite Cabinet, telling her that it was all a smart trick on
the part of the Russian government, from which they only wanted to
carry out their own ambitious ends, and this done, they would be ready
at any moment to give the innocent and confiding Americans the slip.
It is pleasant, as a citizen of the United States to feel what good
friends we have on the other side of the Atlantic,—real friends,
too,—who are ready to come forward, now that we are out of the woods,
to save us from the terrible fate of being killed by too much
kindness.
Like the almost historic personage who was talked to death, perhaps
there is danger in store for the American Republic of being _advised_
to death by her older brothers and sisters.
It does not take an over-intelligent person to see that between a
military autocracy, under the sway of an almost absolute ruler, and a
government of the people, intrusting the management of its affairs
temporarily to its chosen representatives, there cannot be,
theoretically, certainly, much genuine and heartfelt sympathy. This is
superficially the view which any one would take. But deeper reflection
on the traits, or, better still, living among the people of whom such
a comparison is made, will show that this curious sympathy is not by
any means a matter of government alone,—important as that is to aid
it,—but lies hidden in the life of the people themselves, only to be
brought out by a curious combination of circumstances.
THE DOUBLE EVENT OF EMANCIPATION.
At times the spark will be struck, and blaze forth into a great
conflagration. Such a time was the late civil war in North America,
which was the cause of the emancipation of the slaves in the Southern
states, when, to correspond with it, at about the same epoch, but from
entirely different causes, came the liberation of the serfs all
through Russia.
Alexander II. and Abraham Lincoln then found a bond of fellowship
existing between them, which nothing could break, and the masses in
Russia and in the United States, were only too ready to take up the
double event and magnify it in their feeling to an unlimited extent.
Then many other points of similarity were discovered; the great extent
of territory of both nations, giving each a future in the development
of the resources placed there by nature, whether on the surface of the
earth or under it, which restricted limits had denied to the other
nations of the continent. This same vastness of land, educating many
to be merchants, and farmers, and miners, and railroad owners on a
grand scale, caused a corresponding freedom of thought and
independence of action,—in other words democratized the people who had
come under its influence,—in a way which cannot well be appreciated by
those whose life is passed in crowded cities alone, where the prestige
of courts and the presence of cliques make individuality much less
marked.
The two nations, the republic and the empire, owned a wide frontage on
the Pacific ocean, which they came in imagination to regard as a huge
lake, and this their common property. Other events, too, at this time
were used with great effect; such as the arrival of the Russian
squadron in America (The Russian fleet in New York, Boston, and San
Francisco in 1863.), the visit of Assistant Secretary of the Navy Fox
in 1866, and that of Admiral Farragut in 1867, (Admiral Farragut was
in Russia the greater part of August in that year, and it was said the
friendship and courtesy of both government and people were especially
marked.) the purchase of Alaska (In 1867, organized July 27, 1868.)
and the return call of the Grand Duke Alexis to the United States.
(The third son of the Emperor Alexander II. of Russia visited this
country in December 1871, and at a banquet Oliver Wendell Holmes
welcomed him with the following words:—
‘Bleak are our shores with the blasts of December,
Fettered and chill is the rivulet’s flow,
But throbbing and warm are the hearts that remember
Who was our friend when the world was our foe.’
There was a gift to the poor of New York when the Russian squadron
took leave of New York in 1863, a voluntary subscription of $4,760
from the officers, and during the famine in Russia in 1891, our
government sent over five large steamers loaded with grain collected
from almost every state in the Union.)
But, supposing there were no characteristics in common, it will not
soon be forgotten in America that, during the long years of the
terrible war, while many of the nations of Europe were clinging to the
policy of keeping an uncompromising but none the less watchful armed
neutrality, rulers and aristocracies in their hearts against the cause
of the North, while the lower classes everywhere went with it, Russia,
of all the great nations, alone came forward, and gave openly its
sympathy to the side which represented a more advanced civilization,
and which as such, in spite of its many disheartening defeats, was
bound to triumph in the end. A person who is hard pressed in life,
when a friend comes up to give him encouragement, does not stop to
reflect why it is given, and try to put a selfish construction on the
offer, he accepts it on the spot, and is not apt to forget the donor
in a hurry. So Americans are not to be easily persuaded that Russia’s
assistance to them at that critical period in their country’s history,
was a mere diplomatic sham and meaningless parade. They are willing to
be ignorant still, if this is so, and need more powerful arguments to
disprove them than have yet been raised by their officious
counsellors.”
THE RUSSO-AMERICAN FEVER.
In the year of my first journey to Russia, 1866, the Russo-American
fever was at its height, and it was a very pleasant thing for those who
caught it when travelling in the other country. They were fêted and
hugged, and wined, and tossed, according to the customs of the people,
and their nationality alone was a sufficient passport to pass them along
the lines of sight-seeing and pleasure, passing unchallenged,—nay,
rather invited in. The entire nation was in the attitude of “present
arms” to him from the other country who desired to pass through on a
tour of inspection.
* * * * *
“And the great ships sail outward and return,
Bending and bowing o’er the billowy swells,
And ever joyful, as they see it burn,
They wave their silent welcomes and farewells.”
—_Henry W. Longfellow, The Lighthouse._
FINIS.
[Illustration:
PORT SAID. OPENING OF THE SUEZ CANAL.
]
INDEX
TO
PERSONS, PLACES, AND SUBJECTS
Academy of Fine Arts, St. Petersburg, 151.
Academy of Music, Brooklyn, N. Y., 90.
Academy of Music, Newport, R. I., 32.
Admiralty, St. Petersburg, 151.
After Emancipation, 58, 200.
Agricultural Exhibition, 174.
Alabama Claims, 219.
Alaska, 172, 186, 225.
Albania, 108.
Alexander I., 186, 192.
Alexander II., 77, 81, 92, 94–96, 106, 134, 136–138, 161, 162, 164,
173–175, 184, 194–197, 200, 211, 216, 222, 224, 225.
Alexander II., Death of, 203–205.
Alexander II., Monument, 205.
Alexandria, 179.
Alice, yacht, 17–19, 23, 25, 27, 117.
Allston, Washington, 125–132.
Andrews, Christopher Columbus, 169, 170.
Appleton, D. & Co., 146, 153.
Appleton, Thomas Gold, 17–20, 23, 25, 42, 117, 123, 126, 129–132, 148.
Appomattox Court House, Va., 62, 64.
Army of the Potomac, 21, 22, 156, 158.
Artillery Brigade, 157.
Artists’ Club, St. Petersburg, 99.
Ashuelot, man-of-war, 136.
Asniéres, 24.
Astor, W. W., 146.
Augusta, man-of-war, 136.
Avenue de l’Opera, Paris, 35.
Ball, Thomas, 66.
Baltic Sea, 24, 73, 186.
Baltimore, Md., 44, 55, 99.
Banks, Nathaniel P., 160, 168–174, 176, 179, 181, 183, 207, 213.
Barlow, S. L. M., 145.
Bartlett, Joseph J., 30.
Battle of Antietam, 52.
Beaumont, Sir George, 130, 131.
Behring Straits, 103.
Behring, Vitus, discoverer, 103.
Bellevue Avenue, Newport, R. I., 29.
Belmont, August, 33, 145–147.
Bennett, James Gordon, 27, 28.
Bennett, James Gordon, Jr., 27–29, 34, 36, 159.
Berdan, Hiram, 173, 176.
Berlin, 24, 26, 39, 68–74, 167.
Besborodko, Koucheleff, Count, 93, 141.
Bicknell, Albion H., 64.
Bismarck-Schonhausen, Otto Edward Leopold, Prince von, Chancellor of
the Empire, 222.
Black Sea, 214.
Bois de Boulogne, 20, 23, 38–40, 111, 162, 165.
Boit, Edward D., 203.
Boston, 9, 19, 66, 103, 116, 119, 127, 128, 221, 224.
Boston Athenæum, 128.
Boston Board of Trade, 177.
Boston Museum of Fine Arts, 129.
Boston Public Library, 141.
Boulevard des Italiens, Paris, 36.
Bowditch, Henry P., 158.
Bowles Brothers & Co., Bankers, 168.
Bowles, Charles, 34, 168, 177.
Bowles, Drevet & Cie, Paris, 17.
Bowles, Robert, 127.
Boyer, Alexandre, 183.
Brest, 9, 11, 14, 16, 24.
Brevoort House, New York, 90.
Brevoort Place, New York, 89.
Bric-a-Brac Club, Boston, 148.
Brighton Road, Brighton District, Boston, 87, 123, 135.
Brindisi, 179.
Brown, Edward Ingersol, 132.
Brown, John Murray, 181.
Brussels, 24, 26, 39, 68.
Bullock, Alexander H., 167.
Burgess, Frank, 9, 16, 23, 39, 84, 122, 144.
Burlingame, Anson, 165–169, 180.
Burlington Arcade, London, 85.
Café Napolitaine, Paris, 26, 27.
Cairo, Egypt, 179, 216.
Cambridge, Mass., 159.
Cameron, Simon, 50.
Camp Douglas, 21.
Carnatz Connection, 106.
Carolina Filly, 30.
Caspian Sea, 108.
Catherine II., 193.
Caucasus, 186.
Centennial Exposition, Philadelphia, 129.
Cercle des Capucines, 38.
Cercle Franco-Américain, 37, 38.
Champ de Mars, St. Petersburg, 173.
Chandler, Zachariah, 168.
Charing Cross Hotel, London, 20.
Chase, Salmon P., 55, 64.
Chicago, 10.
Chicago Exposition, 66, 129.
China, steamship, 18.
Chinese Embassy, 167–169.
Christmas Day, 81, 92, 98, 103, 113, 114, 122, 132, 133.
Church of Saint Sophia, 140.
Church of Sault Isaac, 86, 87.
Circassia, 83, 85, 92, 108, 142, 145, 147, 204.
Clark, Arthur H., 17, 18.
Clay, Cassius M., 82, 94–96, 98, 137.
Clyde Park, 30.
Coaching Club, 28.
Coffey, Titian J., 172, 173, 177.
Colfax, Schuyler, 65.
Cologne, 69.
Commune, France, 36, 37.
Commune, or Mir, Russia, 201–203.
Compiègne, 20.
Comte, Auguste, 181.
Constantinople, 39, 76, 102, 169, 179, 180, 213–216, 222.
Copenhagen, 168, 171.
Corbin, Austin, 29.
Costume Ball, 144–147.
Cotton Exposition, New Orleans, 21.
Country Club, Brookline, Mass., 30, 32, 33.
Cowdin, Elliot C., 166.
Cowes, 18, 19.
Cowes Roads, 18.
Cracow, 154, 155.
Crane, Edward A., 182.
Crimea, 23, 193, 194.
Crimean War, 193, 194, 197, 215, 216, 222.
Cronstadt, 97, 136.
Crowninshield, B. W., 156.
Cuba, 26, 172.
Curtin, Andrew G., 168, 172, 173, 177, 180.
Curtin, Jeremiah, 81, 103, 118, 134, 181.
Curtis, T. B., 25, 39.
Danube River, 181, 217.
Dauntless, yacht, 29.
Davis, Tom Kemper, 126.
De Gogorza, Anthoine, 183.
De Lesseps, Ferdinand, Count, 164, 165, 179, 182, 183.
Delmonico’s, New York, 144.
De Long, George W., 159.
Demidoff Mines, 87.
De Richelieu, Armand Emanuel du Plessis, Duke, 178.
De Trobriand, Philippe Regis, 20, 21, 24, 91.
Dieppe, 24.
District of Columbia, 45, 49.
Dix, John A., 165–167.
Dneiper River, 185.
D’Osuna et de l’Ynfantado, Duke, Spanish Ambassador, 82, 93, 98.
Dresden, 25, 106, 155.
Drexel, A. J., 34, 35, 168.
Drexel, Harjes & Co., 34, 168.
Dumaresq, Armand, 37.
Dvina River, 185.
Easton’s Beach, Newport, R. I., 31.
Elsinore, 170, 184.
Emancipation, Compensated, 48–50, 60, 196, 197, 199.
Emancipation, Double Event of, 224.
Emancipation, Gradual, 48–50, 196, 197.
Emancipation Law of Russia, Manifesto, 198, 199, 200.
Emancipation, Proclamation in the United States, 52–54.
Emancipation, Result of War, 50, 193.
Emperor of Austria, Franz Joseph I., 182.
English Channel, 18, 117.
English Club, St. Petersburg, 134.
Erlanger, Emile, 183.
Erlanger, Louis, Count Excelmans, 183.
Europe and America in 1870, 207, 209–222.
Evans, Thomas W., 35, 180, 182, 183.
Executive Mansion or White House, 48, 51, 62.
Faneuil Hall, Boston, 41.
Farragut, David Glasgow, Admiral, 224.
Fearing, H. S., 145.
Fetridge, William Pembroke, 34, 36, 38.
Fifth Avenue, New York, 29.
Fifth Corps, Army of the Potomac, Union Forces, War of 1861-’65, 156,
157, 158.
Fifth Mass. Battery, Light Artillery, 63, 116, 157.
Fifteenth Amendment, 57, 58, 60.
Fifty-fifth N. Y. Regt. Inf., 21.
Finland, 186.
Finland, Grand Duchy of, 186.
Finland, Gulf of, 97, 172, 186.
First Mass. Battery, Light Artillery, 158.
First Mass. Cavalry, 16, 156–158.
Fish, Hamilton, 22.
Fleetwing, yacht, 27.
Fogg Museum, Harvard College, 71.
Folies Dramatiques, Paris, 10.
Fontainebleau, 162.
Forbes, Paul, 161, 183.
Ford’s Theatre, Washington, D. C., 61, 66.
Forest of Fontainebleau, 42.
Four-in-Hand Club, 28.
Fourteenth Amendment, 56, 57, 59.
Fox, Gustavus Vasa, 36, 135, 136, 185, 224.
Fox’s Mission, 135, 136.
Fremont, John C., 47, 48, 50.
Friederichshamm, Peace of, 186.
Frog Pond, Boston Common, 85.
Fugitive Slave Law, repeal of, 55.
Gagarine, Julie, Princess, 121.
Galitzine, Prince, 150.
Garcia, John, 36.
Gare de l’ Ouest, Paris, 15.
Garrison, William Lloyd, 44.
Gautier, Théophile, 40.
General Kotzebue, steamship, 179, 182.
German Club, Moscow, 115.
Gettysburg, Penn., 64.
Gillig, Henry F., 26.
Goddard, Ely, 33.
Golden Horn, 181.
Gortschakoff, Alexander Michailowitsch, Prince, 95, 96, 150, 211.
Gostinny Dvor, Moscow, 108.
Gott, Daniel, 45.
Goubareff, Demetrius, 222, 223.
Grand Duchess Helena, 200.
Grand Duke Alexis, 225.
Grand Duke Constantine, 194, 200.
Grand Duke Nicholas, 174.
Grand Hotel, Paris, 15, 16, 24, 35, 166.
Grand Opera, Moscow, 115.
Grand Opera, Paris, 24.
Grand Opera, St. Petersburg, 84, 88, 141, 143, 149.
Grand Prix, Paris, 161.
Grand Theatre, Moscow, 105.
Grant, Ulysses S., 65, 66, 173.
Gray Collection of Engravings, 70, 71.
Gray, Francis Colley, 70.
Gray, George Griswold, 28, 33.
Great Eastern, steamship, 18.
Greek Church, 181, 182, 188.
Green, J. Orne, 72.
Gregg, John I., 156, 157.
Hamburg, 168.
Harvard College, 22, 70, 89.
Havana, Cuba, 26.
Hayti, 44, 51.
Healy, G. P. A., 203.
Henrietta, yacht, 27, 28.
Hereditary Medals, 205.
Hermitage, 84, 151.
Higginson, Frank L., 17.
Holland, J. G., 44.
Holy Synod, 188, 205, 206.
Hooker, Joseph, 62.
Hotel de la Paix, 9.
Hotel Dusaux, Moscow, 103.
Hudson River, 28.
Hunnewell, Hollis, 17.
Hunt, William Morris, 40–42.
Hunter, David A., 50.
Hurlburt, William Henry, 145.
Hyde Park, London, 111.
Imperial Library, St. Petersburg, 151.
Invitation, Note of, 94.
Isla, 141.
Ismail Pasha, Khedive of Egypt, 216.
Ismailia, 179.
Ivan III., 185.
Jackson, Charles C., 17, 25.
Jagellon, Duke of Lithuania, 154.
Jamaica Pond, Roxbury, Mass., 135.
Jay, William, 28.
Jeannette, steamship, 159.
Jerome, Lawrence, 29.
Jerome, Leonard W., 27.
Jockeys’ Ball, 32.
Johnson, Andrew, 117, 136.
Johnson, “Ned”, 27.
Jonesville, East Tennessee, 44.
Khedive, 180, 182, 216, 219.
Kimball, Moses, 66.
King of Prussia, William I., 161, 164.
Knapp, A. W., 29.
Königsberg, 24, 70, 73.
Kosciusko, Thaddeus, 153, 154.
Kremlin, Moscow, 103, 105, 107, 108, 114, 116, 121, 187.
Kremlin, Novgorod, 140.
Kronborg Castle, 170.
Kropotkin, Prince, 204.
Kung, Prince, 166.
Lafayette, Gilbert Motier de, 37, 44.
Lamson, Daniel S., 89, 90.
Lane, David, 89.
Lee, John C., 168.
Lee, Robert E., 21, 52, 62.
Le Ray, Maurice, 16.
Lincoln, Abraham, 41–67, 166, 204, 224.
Lincoln, Abraham, Death of, 61–63.
Lincoln, Abraham, Statues of, 64, 66.
Lithuanian Provinces, 74, 194.
Lockwood, Alfred, 36.
London, Eng., 17, 23, 39, 120, 207, 222.
Long Branch, New Jersey, 221.
Longchamps, 25, 161.
Longfellow, Charles A., 16–19, 23–25, 26, 38, 39, 69, 70, 72, 82, 84,
94, 97, 98, 105, 114, 118, 119, 123, 138–140, 142, 148, 151,
153–159.
Longfellow, Ernest, 23, 122.
Longfellow, Henry W., 16, 38, 70, 88, 125.
Lorillard, George, 36.
Lorillard, Louis, 36.
Loubat, J. F., Duc de, 35, 36, 136.
Louvre, Paris, 23.
Lundy, Benjamin, 43.
Lyrique, Paris, 23.
Manchuria, 186.
Manhattan Club, New York, 145.
Manifesto of Emancipation, Russia, 198.
Marble, Manton, 145.
Martin, Augustus P., 157.
Maximilian, Ferdinand Joseph, Emperor of Mexico, 163.
Mazourka, 115, 121, 154.
McClellan, George B., 52.
McVickar, William H., 28.
Meade, George G., 156.
Mediterranean Sea, 179.
Merrill, T. Watson, 159.
Mesnil, Baron de, 31.
Metropolitan, Moscow, 181.
Metropolitan, St. Petersburg, 137.
Miantonomoh, monitor, 136.
Mickiewicz, Adam, 155.
Mill Dam Road, Boston, 83.
Mine Run, 156, 157.
Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Russia, 96, 188.
Ministry of Public Instruction, Russia, 186, 188.
Mississippi River, 47.
Morley, Henry, 19.
Moscow, 24, 38, 39, 76, 81, 86, 98–103, 105, 114, 116–118, 121, 134,
139, 176, 177, 181, 185, 187, 189, 194, 205.
Moscow, gas-lighting of, 152.
Mount Cenis Tunnel, 179.
Mount Pleasant, Ohio, 44.
Muscovy, 187.
Nahant, Mass., 18, 153, 159.
Napoleon Bonaparte, 73, 102, 176.
Napoleon III., 25, 161–164, 180, 216, 217.
Narragansett Avenue, Newport, R. I., 32.
National Museum, Washington, D. C., 67.
Navy and Army Club, Cronstadt, 97.
Neva Club, 134.
Neva River, 39, 84, 85, 108, 137, 151, 153, 184, 185.
Neva Skating Club, 84, 85, 93.
Nevski Prospect, St. Petersburg, 83, 87, 111, 134, 205.
Newfoundland, 18.
New or Mount Hope Church, Va., 16, 156–158.
New London, Conn., 29.
New Orleans, La., 21.
Newport, N. H., 29.
Newport, R. I., 16, 28–33, 147, 150, 221.
Newport, R. I., Beach, 30–33, 121.
Newport, R. I., Jockey Club, 31.
New York City, 9, 10, 14, 21, 28, 29, 36, 60, 63, 77, 89, 90, 120, 135,
136, 166, 221, 224, 225.
New York Club, 90, 91.
New York Yacht Club, 27, 28.
Nice, 207, 222.
Nicholas I., 95, 192, 193, 194.
Nicholas II., 202, 203, 205, 206.
Nisbet, W. F., 153.
Nobility Club, 115.
Non-Intervention of the United States, 218–220.
Norton, Charles B., 183.
Nottaway Court House, Va., 62.
Novgorod, 135, 140, 141, 185.
Nuba Pasha, 182.
Odessa, 24, 98, 177–179, 187, 208.
Oglesby, R. J., 65.
Oldroyd Lincoln Memorial Collection, 67.
Opera House, Berlin, 72.
Oriental Quadrille, 144, 146, 147.
Oscar, King of Sweden and Norway, 170.
Otis, James, 147.
Otis, William C., 28.
Ourousoff, Prince, 31, 121, 150.
Ourousoff, Princess, 150.
Palais Royal, Paris, 10.
Panama Canal, 29, 37, 164, 178, 183.
Paris, 9–11, 14–17, 20, 22, 24, 25, 27, 34–40, 68, 69, 73, 83, 85, 86,
88, 103, 115, 117, 126, 153, 155, 161–169, 176, 179, 183, 203, 207,
222, 223.
Paris Exposition of 1867, 39, 41, 151, 160, 164.
Passage, St. Petersburg, 85.
Passage des Panoramas, Paris, 85.
Patriarch Adrian, 188.
Patriarch of Constantinople, 181, 182.
Patriarchal Cathedral, 114.
Patti, Adelina, 26, 27.
Paul, Emperor, 191.
Peabody, George, 152, 153.
Peabody, S. Endicott, 168.
Perkins, C. C., 26.
Peter the Great, 85, 98, 187, 188, 190.
Peter III., 193.
Philippe’s, Paris, 39.
Phœnix, Lloyd, 36.
Picpus Cemetery, Paris, 37.
Pierce, Josiah, Jr., 88.
Place de la Concorde, Paris, 161.
Place de l’Opera, Paris, 35.
Place du Nouvel Opera, Paris, 9.
Plevna, 204.
Poland, 75, 80, 153–155, 186, 195.
Polar Sea, 186.
Pompeiian Villa, 24.
Pomutz, George, 176.
Port Said, 179, 182, 226.
Post, Albert Kintzing, 21.
Postal Union, 219.
Post, Waldron Kintzing, 22.
Prague, Peace of, 210.
Pratt, Thomas, 36.
Pré Catalan, 165.
Presentation, 92, 173.
Proclamation of Emancipation, 52–54.
Raasloff, Waldemar Rudolph, 168, 171.
Rappahannock River, Va., 63.
Rescript of Nazimof, 195.
Review of Troops in France, 161, 162.
Review of Troops in Russia, 121, 173–176.
Review of Troops in Sweden, 170.
Rhodes, 179.
Rice, Alexander H., 177.
Rice, A. Thorndike, 146.
Riggs, Elisha, 36.
Ristori, Adelaide, 25, 26.
River Rhine, 218.
Riverside Park, Cambridgeport, Mass., 115.
Roberts, Benjamin Stone, 97.
Rome, 39, 87, 93, 130, 211.
Rosalie, 123, 125–129, 131.
Rue Auber, Paris, 36.
Rue Castiglione, Paris, 176.
Rue de là Paix, Paris, 9, 17, 24, 35.
Rue Royale, Paris, 176.
Rue St. Honoré, Paris, 176.
Rurik, yacht, 136, original settler, 185.
Russell, Harry, 32.
Russia and the United States, 186, 223–225.
Russian Beggar, 75, 201.
Russian Horse, 77, 78, 81, 97, 98, 105, 106, 108–113, 115, 120, 121,
150.
Russian Navigation Company, 179.
Russian Sleigh, 77, 78, 81, 83, 87, 94, 105, 120, 149.
Russian Yacht Club, 84.
Saint Cloud, 164.
Saint Gaudens, Augustus, 66.
Saint Germain, 223.
Saint Louis, Mo., 47.
Saint Michel Theatre, St. Petersburg, 88.
Saint Petersburg, 17, 19, 24, 38, 39, 72, 74, 78, 81, 82, 91, 92, 96,
98, 102, 103, 108, 116–118, 121, 122, 132–134, 136, 138, 139, 143,
145, 152–154, 167–169, 172, 173, 176, 177, 181, 187, 197, 203, 215,
216.
Saint Petersburg and Moscow Railroad, 99, 101, 177.
Saint Petersburgh and Warsaw Railroad, 80, 177.
Saint Thomas, island, 171.
Samanos, Augustus, 36.
San Francisco, 10, 91, 124, 167, 181, 224.
Sargent, Harry, 17.
Sayles, Henry, 132.
Scilly Islands, 9.
Secession of Southern States, 46.
Serfs, 189–191.
Serfs, Emancipation of, 192–203.
Seward, William H., 51, 54, 55, 64.
Shattuck, George B., 70, 124, 143.
Sherman, William T., 65.
Siberia, 191, 193.
Simpson, Matthew, 62.
Sixteenth Mass. Infantry, 90.
Smith, Charles K., 86, 89–91.
Snead, Thomas L., 48.
Soldiers’ Home, Washington, D. C., 43.
Somerset Club, Boston, 22.
Southwell, Viscount, 32, 33.
Souworoff, or Suwarrow, Alexander Vasilievitch, Count Rymnikski, 143.
Spanish Ambassador, St. Petersburg, 93, 98, 99.
Spencer, Lorillard, 35.
Springfield, Ill., 62.
Staigg Portrait, 117, 122, 124, 132, 133.
Staigg, Richard M., 123, 124, 152.
Stanfield, Harry, 17–19, 23, 24, 29.
Stevenson, Robert H., 25, 27.
Stockholm, Sweden, 167, 169, 170, 180.
Straits of Dover, 220.
Strogonoff, Count, 177.
Suez Canal, 35, 164, 168, 169, 178–180, 208, 215–217, 226.
Sully, Thomas, 126–128.
Sultan of Turkey, Abdul-Aziz, 162, 163, 216, 219.
Sykes, George, 156.
Synod, Holy, 188, 205, 206.
System of Government in Russia, 187–189.
Talleyrand-Perigord, Charles Maurice, Prince of Benevento, 13.
Tchudova, 140.
Thies, Louis, 70.
Thirteenth U. S. Infantry, 21.
Thirty-first U. S. Infantry, 20, 21.
Tilsit, Peace of, 73.
Tivoli, 152.
Trumbull, Lyman, 46.
Tsarskoë Selo, 150.
Union Club, San Francisco, 91.
Union Pacific Railroad, 167.
United States Treasury, 62, 117, 178.
Upsala, 170.
Ural Mountains, 108.
Venice, 102.
Versailles, 23, 36, 98.
Vesta, yacht, 27.
Vevey, Switzerland, 222.
Vice Roi of Egypt, 182, 216.
Victoria Theatre, Berlin, 70.
Vienna, 25, 39, 102, 153, 155.
Ville de Paris, steamship, 9, 14.
Virginia, 156.
Voisin, Armand, 36.
Volga River, 108.
Wainwright, Charles S., 62.
War Department, Washington, D. C., 67.
Warsaw, 24, 148, 153.
War with Spain, 172, 219.
Washburn, Elihu B., 165, 168.
Washington Club, Paris, 22, 29, 34–38.
Washington, D. C., 11, 16, 43, 61, 127, 165, 166, 181, 183, 213, 219.
Washington Heights, 27, 28.
Waterloo, 26, 39, 68.
Wayman, Bishop, 65.
Wheeling, West Virginia, 43.
Whistler, George W., 98, 99.
Whistler, James A. McN., 98.
White Sea, 185.
Willett, “Bronnie,” 34.
Wilna, 24, 70, 73, 74, 79.
Wilson, Henry, 65.
Winans, Ross, 88, 98, 99, 177.
Winans, Thomas de Kay, 99.
Winans, William Louis, 99.
Winter Palace, St. Petersburg, 95, 121, 134, 137, 149, 173, 205.
Winthrop, Eugene, 35.
Winthrop, Robert, 221.
Wood, Fernando, 168.
Wordsworth, William, 131, 132.
Woronzoff, Prince, 178.
Wright, Frances, 44.
Wright, Joseph A., 72.
Wright, Smith, 129, 130.
Yacht Club Pond, 84.
Yacht Club Skating Ground, 141.
Young, Samuel P., 105.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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