The Great Palace

The Great Palace - part 2  

Fifteen miles from St. Petersburg, and easily reached by the first railroad ever built in Russia, is Tsarskoye Selo, one of the summer homes of the imperial family. Catharine II loved this place especially, and spent enormous sums upon its embellishment. Its lovely park is eighteen miles in circumference. Upon its pretty lake were several swans.
Beyond the lake, a pretty river winds through the park in graceful curves, with numerous bridges of fantastic and beautiful designs. This garden of Tsarskoye Selo is one of the most beautifully kept enclosures in the world. On account of the severity of the Russian climate, its trees and flowers have to be watched and cultivated with the utmost tenderness. Catharine II. used to say, "In Russia we have not summer and winter, but only a white winter and a green winter". An invalid soldier here commands an army of five hundred gardeners. After each falling leaf a veteran runs, and every spear of grass is carefully drawn from lake and river. The cost of this lavish care amounts, it is said, to fifty thousand dollars a year; but the result is a park that is kept in the order of a ball-room. Entering the palace, we found a display of the same extravagance that formerly characterized its outer walls. One beautiful apartment is called the "Chinese" room,
because much of its furniture and decorations are modeled after the styles of the Celestial Empire. Another is the hall of "Lapis-Lazuli", the sides of which are beautifully inlaid with that rare stone; while the floor is of ebony, adorned with mosaic flowers made of mother-of-pearl. Still another is called the "Amber room", because its walls are literally covered with that precious substance. Even the chairs in this apartment are made of amber, and amber chessmen stand on an amber board.
In striking contrast, however, to this splendor, the private apartments of the Russian sovereigns are extremely plain. I was especially impressed with the austerity of the bedroom of the Emperor Nicholas, where he died of a broken heart, because of the disastrous results of the Crimean War. The room remains as when he occupied it. Probably no reader of these pages has one so plain; for the floor is carpetless, and the bed is a narrow frame of iron. On the walls are a few simple pictures of Sevastopol, and on the floor is a pair of slippers that he wore for years, and which, it is plain to see, were often mended.
What was true of Nicholas I, was true also of his son. The study of the Emperor Alexander II, is very simply-decorated. The furniture is upholstered in leather, and only a few portraits of his children, relatives, and soldiers adorn the walls. Whether the old domestic, who showed us through the palace, suspected that we had dynamite about our persons, I know not; but he seemed quite reluctant to admit us to these private rooms. Accordingly, our guide informed him in a whisper that we were really Russians of high rank, who, since we were traveling incognito, chose to speak a foreign language.
I was not responsible for this lie; but either that, or a ruble slipped into his hand, produced the desired effect, and we were admitted.
In our subsequent tour of the palace, I was in constant dread lest that servant should ask us for our Russian titles. In that event we should have had to resort to the device of three Americans who, on their travels here, had taken Russian names. These proved so difficult to remember and pronounce, that finally they invented some far easier to recall, since they were based on their respective looks or occupations. Thus, one who practiced dentistry, called himself "Count Pull-a-Tusky"; the second, who was a distiller, took the title of "Prince Cask-O'-Whisky"; while the third, who had the misfortune to be bald, was styled by his companions, "General Hair-all-off".
A good story is told of the Tsar Alexander I. One morning, entering with his wife the elegantly furnished boudoir of the Empress, they found, on the table, a small package awaiting them. That was before the days of Nihilism and of dynamite — hence the Emperor opened it without hesitation, It proved to be a volume of poems written by a man who, although talented and witty, was poverty-stricken, as indeed most poets have always been. The Emperor read the book, and was so well pleased with its contents, that he caused a hundred bank-notes, of one hundred rubles each, to be bound in a book, and wrote on its title-page the words, "Poems of the Emperor Alexander".
This he sent to the needy poet. Soon after this act of imperial generosity, a ball was given here. Among the guests was the delighted poet, who hastened to the Tsar to express his thanks. "Well", said Alexander, "how do you like my poems?" "Very much, indeed, Sire", was the reply, "as far as I have read them; but I have as yet seen only the first volume". The Tsar smiled, and the next day ordered another similar book of bank-notes to be made, entitled, "Poems of the Emperor Alexander: Volume Second". This time, however, on the last page the Emperor had written with his own hand, "The End".
1898
John L. Stoddard