A Book of Voyages. Patrick O’Brian

to my coach, in order to pay my visits; and I beg you will imagine my surprise, when I found I had a coachman on the box, with three postillions, one to each pair of horses—and these sitting on the right-hand, I go thus, full gallop, running races with every other attelage that falls in my way—the streets are luckily wide—and custom makes the danger less than one should imagine.

      PETERSBURGH, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1786

      I was to have been presented to the Empress next Sunday—but she graciously sent me word to come to the Hermitage on Thursday, where she keeps her court in the evening every week—and has alternately a French play or an Italian opera—I cannot conceive why this building which she has added to the palace is called the Hermitage; it is a long suite of rooms, full of fine pictures. You are not ignorant, dear Sir, of the many collections the Empress has purchased; among the rest Lord Orford’s; Petersburgh is a chearful and fine looking town; the streets are extremely wide and long—the houses stucco’d to imitate white stone; none above three stories high—which certainly adds to the lively and airy appearance of them—I think, Sir, that not only the town, but the manner of living is upon too large a scale; the nobles seem to vie with one another in extravagancies of every sort, particularly in foreign luxuries and fashion—The fashion of the day is most ridiculous and improper for this climate; French gauzes and flowers were not intended for Russian beauties—and they are sold at a price here which must ruin the buyers.

      There are buildings erected for the reception of Arts and Sciences of every kind; for artists or amateurs, though but the surplus of Italy, France and England, would find handsome encouragement and house-room from the Empress, whose respect for talents, and generosity to those who possess them, have induced some, and would many more, to fix in the present capital of this vast empire; but alas! Sir, eight months of winter; and the horrid cold I feel, must congeal the warmest imagination.

      From Cherson, the new town on the Turkish frontiers, which is one thousand six hundred miles from hence, are brought many provisions; from Archangel likewise this town is provided, and from Astracan on the Caspian Sea, near two thousand miles, all the dainties, such as grapes, pease, beans, artichokes, are brought—It is natural to suppose, that the necessaries of life are dear, from these circumstances; but some of them are extremely cheap—and I believe Russia is one of the cheapest countries in the world to live in; if French wines and fashions, and English comforts can be dispensed with—To these last I never felt so much attachment as at this moment—Dans le Ligne Anglais, a quarter of this town, where the English merchants live, I find English grates, English coal, and English hospitality, to make me welcome, and the fire-side chearful—

      We are in the last part of the carnival and balls; those given by the Ambassadors are very superb—Mr. de Segur, and the Duc de Serra Capriola, the Neapolitan Minister, have each given one in a very magnificent style—

      I was presented to the Grand Duchess the same night that I waited upon the Empress—She has since been brought to bed—There are some young Russian ladies very pretty and much accomplished—many of them sigh after a different climate from their own—here the houses are decorated with the most sumptuous furniture from every country—but you come into a drawing-room, where the floor is of the finest inlaid woods, through a staircase made of the coarsest wood in the rudest manner, and stinking with dirt—The postillions wear sheep-skins—and at a ball, when a nobleman has proposed his hand to a fair lady—he often kisses her before the whole company—

      You may have heard much of Prince Potemkin; I see him everywhere, but he is reserved and converses very little with ladies—I was invited by him to dine in an immense palace he is building in the suburbs; the only room finished is too particular not to be described; it is three hundred feet in length, and on the side opposite the windows there are two rows of stone pillars, whose height and breadth are proportioned to the immense size of the room, which is an oblong square; in the centre of which on the side where the windows are, it is formed into a semi-circle or what we call a bow—which bow forms another large space independent of, though in the room; this space was laid out by his English gardener into a shrubbery with borders of flowers, hyacinths, and narcissuses—myrtles, orange-trees, etc., etc. were in plenty—We were seven or eight ladies, and as many men—immense stoves concealed by the pillars, were heated in order to make such a hall in such a climate supportable—but I came home quite ill with cold—It was there I heard that extraordinary music performed by men and boys, each blowing a straight horn adapted to their size—sixty-five of these musicians produce a very harmonious melody, something like an immense organ. The music, the room, the cold, all was gigantic. I sat by Prince Potemkin at dinner; but except asking me to eat and drink, I cannot say I heard the sound of his voice—

      Justice obliges me to say, the Empress does all she can to invite politeness, science and comforts from other countries, to cheer these regions of ice—but, until she can alter the climate, I believe it is a fruitless trial—I am informed the spring, or rather the time of year we call spring, is more melancholy than winter here, so I shall hasten my departure; but a conversation I had with the Swedish Minister, a few days past, will make me give up entirely the thoughts of returning into Germany through Sweden and Denmark—I shall in my next have the honour of repeating it to you.

      I promised to give you an account of the conversation with the Minister, here it is—

      M. S— I have been told, that Miladi wishes to do me the honour of consulting me upon the journey she is about to take.

      M— Yes, Monsieur, people say that it is very risky to traverse these ice fields, and I desire to know how to do so because, whichever way I go, I wish to travel mostly in a traineau, as I detest the jolting of an ordinary carriage, and find a traineau very agreeable—

      M. S— Does Miladi know that, to travel from here to Sweden, a third horse is harnessed in front of the two others; at a very considerable distance in the dangerous parts—

      M— What do you mean by dangerous parts?—

      M. S— Where the ice is liable to break—and the horse is harnessed with very long cords; he is called the enfant perdu—because, if the ice cracks, the cords are quickly cut; the horse disappears for ever, and the travellers retrace their steps—

      M— As I have never started on a voyage in order to retrace my steps, and as it seems that I run the risk of becoming an enfant perdu myself, if I undertake this journey—I will put off my visit to your country for another occasion, Monsieur l’Ambassadeur; and so we talked of other things—

      I shall now prepare every thing to visit the Crimea or rather the Tauride; I have been told it is a very beautiful country; and I confess I am not sorry this enfant perdu gives me a good excuse for turning my steps towards Constantinople—

      I am speaking without any partiality, dear Sir; but I do not see here the prejudices of the English, the conceit of the French, nor the stiff German pride—which national foibles make often good people of each nation extremely disagreeable. I am assured the Russians are deceitful—it may be so; but as I do not desire to have intimacies, I am much better pleased to find new acquaintances pleasant and civil than morose or pert—

      P.S. I am not a little surprised to hear people say: I shall inherit so many hundred peasants, or such a one lost a village—it is the number of men, and not of acres, that make a fortune great here; so that a plague or any distemper that would prove mortal to the peasants, would be death to the nobles’ pockets likewise—

      The Vicechancellor, Comte d’Osterman, is obliged to have a table for sixty foreigners every Wednesday; and a widow, Princess de Galitzin, a supper once a week—at Mons. d’Osterman’s too, a ball every Sunday night. The Empress is at the expence of these dinners and suppers—and, I confess, I think it an excellent and royal idea, to be certain of having houses open for the entertainment of foreign ministers and strangers of distinction—There is a custom here which I think very abominable; noblemen, who are engaged to marry young ladies, make no ceremony, but embrace them in the midst of a large company at a ball—

      I have mentioned to a few people my intention of seeing the Crimea; and I am told that the air is unwholesome, the waters poisonous, and that