CHAPTER XIX.
IRKUTSK—continued.
A gold-caravan—Particulars as to the gold-mining industry of Siberia—The Foundling Hospital—The fire-brigade—Celebration of the Czar’s birthday—Living in Irkutsk.
THE HIGH STREET, IRKUTSK.
While driving outside the city one day I met a most curious-looking procession. It consisted of twelve covered sledges nearly all exactly of the same pattern, with numbers written on them, and the leading and hindmost ones with large lanterns fixed on the roof; in several of them I noticed were soldiers with rifles in readiness. The effect was so peculiar that on my return I made it my business to find out what it was all about. I was informed that what I had seen was a “gold-caravan” en route for Russia. My informant then, in reply to my questions, gave me a lot of interesting particulars about the gold-mining industry of Siberia which was quite new to me, and will doubtless be of interest to others. He told me that all gold found in Siberia has to be sold immediately to the Government, who buys it at the current price of St. Petersburg. A mine-owner is not permitted to sell to a private individual, nor even to have the smallest amount in his possession beyond a certain time. If he should desire to keep a small nugget, say, as a curiosity, he must buy it from the Government, who will then give him a special permit authorizing him its possession. All gold has to be delivered at the owner’s expense at the Government smelting-houses, where it is made into ingots and then sent by caravan to St. Petersburg, the cost of smelting and carriage being also charged to the owner. The primary charges are, therefore, somewhat considerable. Gold is sold at per “pood,” a pood being equivalent to thirty-six pounds English. At the then rate of exchange, a pood was worth 15,616 roubles (8 rs. 40 kopeks = £1, February, 1891); out of this must be deducted the cost of transport (usually per post) to the smelting-house, which is considerable, and the further cost per caravan and rail to St. Petersburg, which amounts to forty roubles per pood. The Government keeps back for assaying, smelting, etc., 416 roubles per pood on all gold from the Lena mines, and 132 roubles in gold sent from the Amour district. I naturally asked the reason of the great difference in the charges against the two districts, and was told that in the Amour district, where only the width of the river separates the Russian from the Chinese empire, the temptation to sell the gold across the frontier would be very great were the Russian Government duties excessive; so it is for that reason they are so much reduced. The Lena mines are too far away for anything of the sort to be feared.
Through the courtesy of the officials I was enabled to spend a very interesting morning at the Government smelting-house, and witnessed several operations, to me very novel, from the unpacking of the gold as it is received from the mine-owners, its weighing, smelting, and eventual running off into ingots. Over £10,000 worth of gold was operated on, so I had a good opportunity of seeing the entire modus operandi. I noticed, by the way, that all the assaying instruments were English, and by a London maker. Afterwards I was shown, in the “safe,” ingots to the amount of nearly half a million (£500,000), some of them so heavy that I could hardly lift them, all of which had the owner’s mark on them, with date, weight, etc.
An enormous quantity of gold annually leaves Siberia for St. Petersburg. Last year, I am informed, the weight amounted to 1295 poods, or 46,620 lbs. Each caravan, such as the one I had seen, by which it is sent as far as the railway at Tiumen, consists of twelve sledges or tarantasses, according to the season, and is accompanied by two officers and six soldiers, which is certainly not a big guard, considering the immense value of their charge, for each conveyance contains 25 poods (or 900 lbs. of solid gold), so the entire caravan carries no less than 10,800 lbs. of the precious metal.
To my surprise, I learnt that no Siberian goldsmith is allowed to buy or work in gold, the penalty for breaking this law being very severe. In spite, however, of these regulations, I hear that a lot of illicit gold-buying and even goldsmith’s work exists; for, as is always the case when such stringent precautions are taken, there are weak points in the law, which serve as loopholes to the many people whose consciences do not prick them, with the result that a deal of Siberian gold crosses the frontier into China, where it finds a ready market.
Amongst the many imposing buildings in the city there was one which struck me as being particularly fine. On inquiry I was informed that it was the Foundling Hospital (Vospititelni Dom). I had read so much about these unique Russian institutions, that my curiosity was aroused. Without any difficulty whatever I obtained permission to visit it, and I was very much interested in all I was shown, for I had never seen anything of the kind before. It was, of course, a replica on a smaller scale of the colossal institutions of the kind in St. Petersburg and Moscow and other Russian cities, which are so ably described in “Murray.” As their raison d’être may not be generally known, a few extracts from the work just named may be of interest.
In speaking of these hospitals at St. Petersburg and Moscow he says—
“The fate of illegitimate children and the responsibilities of their parents have been, and in all probability will remain, one of the most difficult subjects for legislation in most countries. But though some laws regarding it are necessary, there can be no question that natural affection, nay, even common humanity, should inculcate upon those who can possibly raise the means the duty of bringing them up at their own expense. The facilities afforded by this hospital militate, we think, against this principle....
“We cannot help thinking that a visit to this remarkable establishment [the St. Petersburg one] cannot fail to excite very serious reflections in the mind of the English traveller. If the institution is to be viewed in the light of a charity, it is charity upon a very questionable principle; but be this as it may, this vast breeding-cage will give visitors a very clear idea of the power and immense resources of the State.... Though this is called a foundling hospital, it is in reality a general receptacle for all children, who are received up to a certain age without exception, it being entirely left to the option of the parents to state their names and conditions, and to contribute or not to the future support of the child.... If a boy be left by his parents without any accompanying deposit, he is brought up for the army, and, unless he displays very unusual mental powers, is destined for life to serve as a common soldier; if, on the contrary, a certain sum is left with him, he will become an officer. Thus the boys brought up in this institution become in all cases the property of the State, and furnish a constant supply of recruits for the various gradations of military service.... The majority of the girls, beyond a common and useful education in their own language, are employed solely in manual labour, the produce of which goes partly to the funds of the institution and is partly put by for them, to form their marriage portion.”
I do not think I was ever in a cleaner-looking place than the Irkutsk Foundling Hospital. The floors actually rivalled the walls in whiteness, and the neat costume worn by the wet-nurses enhanced an effect which was as pretty as it was unique. Each nurse, I was informed, has charge of two infants, and I noticed in several instances the woman walking about with the two babies at the same time, one on each arm. Considering how many children there were in the place, the rooms were remarkably quiet, for I had quite expected to hear the usual deafening “nursery row” going on—a row which, though doubtless very amusing to mothers and nurses, never had much attraction for me. There was nothing particularly striking about the interior of the building, which consisted of several very large and lofty rooms; in the centre of each of these, which probably contained about six cots, was a sort of high table or desk with a ledge round it, and on which the babies were dressed, or, rather, tightly packed up in swaddling clothes—a curious process which gave them the appearance of miniature mummies all exactly of the same pattern, for the rolling always seemed done on a sort of systematic principle. I was much astonished to learn that many of the wet-nurses were the mothers of the children they were nursing, for they are often so appointed if they wish it, when there is no reason to the contrary. The infants are usually kept in the hospital for about six weeks, and are then sent out to nurse amongst the peasants round about, for which a small monthly sum is paid by the institution; and then when they reach a certain age,
“About six years old, they are taken from their foster parents [what a parting this must be to thousands every year!], the girls to St. Petersburg for their education, and the boys to a branch establishment at Gatshina” (Murray).
Of course the Irkutsk foundlings are brought up and remain in Siberia.
Amongst the many other charitable institutions here, I also visited one of the children’s homes (dedski prioutt), where orphans of both sexes are received up to a certain age, and educated and brought up free. Also the “Home” for the aged and infirm who, through no fault of their own, find themselves stranded at the end of their lives—a “Home” unique in its way, being neither a workhouse nor an almshouse as we understand it in England. What most impressed me in these institutions was the marvellous cleanliness and order which existed everywhere.
IN THE COURTYARD OF A FIRE STATION, IRKUTSK.
The fire-brigade is quite a big affair here, as well it may be after the terrible experiences of the inhabitants in 1879, and, as is the case in all Siberian cities, large watch-towers are placed in all the most prominent positions, from which watchmen can discern any outbreak, and then give the alarm by means of a big bell; whilst in the stations below the men, horses, manuals, and water-carts are in constant readiness, and can turn out in wonderfully short time—in fact, so smart are they, that had I not seen a proof of it on one occasion, I could hardly have believed it possible to harness the horses and get away so quickly. There is a steam fire-engine at Irkutsk, and I was gratified to note that it was by an English firm, Shand and Mason. Very proud the men seem of it, too, for it shone all over like a looking-glass, and is evidently kept in tip-top condition. In this distant Siberian city its familiar form seemed like a connecting-link with far-away London.
I was much struck with the number of overhead wires one sees in Irkutsk, and on inquiry learnt they were mostly telephone wires, and that all the Government offices and most of the big business houses are connected by this means. The wires are worked by a private company, and the charges are not excessive considering, the cost per year, including hire and fixing of machine, etc., being only twenty-five roubles (£3). Irkutsk is also in direct communication with a St. Petersburg Central News Agency, and every item of news of importance is received here by telegram as soon as it is known at the Russian office. In this way I learnt of the last Whitechapel murder on the very evening of the day it had occurred, for everybody at the club was talking of it, such an impression did it make even right away here in the centre of Asia. Talking of clubs, there are two really well-arranged ones here, one a military, the other a merchants’, though neither of them can come up to the one at Krasnoiarsk in my opinion.
The museum, which I visited one morning, well repaid me for the couple of hours I spent there, for the five rooms contain, besides many valuable specimens of Siberian and Mongolian curiosities and mammoth bones, a complete stuffed collection of Siberian animals and birds. The rooms are also used for the periodical meetings of the St. Petersburg Imperial Geographical Society, of which Irkutsk is the Eastern Siberian section.
As far as outdoor amusement is concerned, the principal place during the winter months is the skating-rink, in the principal street, which is the favourite resort of the jeunesse dorée here, and from four till six of an afternoon the ice is generally crowded with pretty girls and smart-looking officers and civilians, most of them excellent skaters. A band, which plays twice a week, and fireworks and illuminations on certain evenings, add also considerably to its attractions. Beyond the clubs there is very little in the way of public amusements, for the only theatre was burnt down two years ago and has not yet been rebuilt, although it is proposed to do so shortly on a magnificent scale. Meanwhile, amateur dramatic performances occasionally take place in a large hall transformed for the nonce into a short of theatre. I was present at one of these “performances,” and although I understood but very little of what was said, I could not help coming to the conclusion that Irkutsk is not bubbling over with amateur histrionic talent, for the show was very tame and uninteresting.
THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL’S HOUSE, IRKUTSK.
It is said that in Russia at least one-half of the year is given up to religious or other holidays, and I can quite believe it, for scarcely a week passed without a prasnik of some sort occurring during it; so much so that my astonishment is that any business can be carried on successfully with such continuous interruptions; for on these holidays all the shops are closed, and nothing whatever goes on all day except church-bell ringing and subsequent parading of the streets by the townspeople in their well-used holiday attire. The most important of all these fêtes occurred whilst I was in Irkutsk, March 10 (February 26, Old Style), being the anniversary of the Czar’s birthday. The city was gaily decorated for the occasion, and as it was quite a warm spring-like day the streets were thronged with people, and presented a most animated appearance. After the customary thanksgiving service in the different churches, a royal salute was fired, and a parade of the garrison took place in front of the cathedral, in the presence of the governor-general and his staff. The troops, who were without their rifles, performed several evolutions with a smartness which quite surprised me, for, although undoubtedly a serviceable-looking lot of men, they had never given me the impression of having any smartness in them. After marching past, first in quarter column and then double column of companies, they were formed up in line, the wheeling being remarkably steady, and the proceedings ended with a cheer for his most holy Majesty the Czar of all the Russias. One sees so little of the military in Siberia, except when they are off duty, that it is seldom one has an opportunity of judging what “stuff” they are made of.
Living in Irkutsk is not cheap—rather the reverse, I thought, after my Krasnoiarsk and Yeniseisk experiences—for, in spite of rent, food, and labour being as cheap as anywhere else in Siberia, the charges at all the hotels were as high as they would have been anywhere in Europe. One could understand it if everything had to be brought from a great distance; but considering that Irkutsk is the centre of a huge producing district, it ought to be one of the cheapest places to live in rather than the contrary. Still, it is a city well worth seeing, and had I not visited it I should certainly have missed the real “life” of Siberia.
STREET SCENE, IRKUTSK.