Читать книгу The Awakening of the East: Siberia—Japan—China - Pierre Leroy-Beaulieu - Страница 11

Table of Contents

Scarcity of towns and their slight importance—Their administration and commerce—Resemblance to the towns in the Russian provinces—Introduction of telephones and electric light—Intellectual progress—University at Tomsk—The drama at Irkutsk—The crisis through which these towns are passing.

The absence of large manufactures doubtless accounts in a measure for the fact that Siberia, according to the census of 1897, only contains eleven towns inhabited by over 10,000 souls. Eight of these (including the two cities of Tomsk and Irkutsk, which have each 50,000 inhabitants) are situated on the postal-road which passes from the foot of the Ural to Tiumen, to terminate on the shores of the Pacific at Vladivostok; Omsk is situated somewhat to the south of the old postal-road, at the point where the Trans-Siberian Railway crosses the Irtysh; Tobolsk, the old capital of Siberia, which has greatly declined in our day, is built at the meeting of the Irtysh and the Tobol, and also close to the junction of the two great highroads. Barnaoul, on the Upper Obi, is the only Siberian town of any importance which is not within easy reach of either the railway or the postal-road, but then it has the advantage of being situated in the centre of the most highly cultivated part of the country. There exist, also, a number of other small towns, situated on the two main arteries and in the more fertile valleys. All of them are centres for the distribution of manufactured articles imported from Europe, and also depots whence the products cultivated in their neighbourhoods are collected and expedited. All these towns are seats both of administration and commerce, and the local capitals are always, with the sole exception of Tobolsk, the biggest towns in the district, and contain the dwellings of the officials and other functionaries, which add greatly to their handsome appearance. In the region of the Amur and the Littoral garrisons have been introduced, which lend considerable animation to the place. At Vladivostok in 1895 the Russian population consisted of 2,780 civil servants, 189 exiles, 555 functionaries and priests (including their wives and children), and 10,087 officers and soldiers with their families. At Khabarofsk the official element is still more preponderating. With the exception of Blagovyeshchensk, situated at the meeting of the Amur and the Zeya, which owes its prosperity to the neighbouring gold-mines, the towns of Eastern Siberia are nothing more or less than camps or huge villages like Chita or Nertchinsk, with very low isbas, or wooden houses, prodigiously broad streets, vast open spaces, the whole dominated generally by the enormous white mass of some official edifice or other.

In the west, however, between the Ural and Lake Baikal, towns exist in the European sense of the word. It cannot be said, however, that they are remarkable for their monumental beauty, but they possess a certain measure of picturesqueness, and bear a striking resemblance to the provincial towns of Russia proper, such as Saratof or Samara, or some quarters of Moscow itself. The houses are nearly all built of black wood like those peppered all over the country, and are built on either side of the long streets at a little distance one from another, and rarely, if ever, embellished by a garden or any attempt at external decoration. The streets cross each other at right angles, and are made as wide as possible, on account of the numerous fires, against which every precaution has to be taken, and people are actually requested not to smoke on the great wooden bridge which crosses the Angara at Irkutsk. In certain wealthier quarters of the towns a story is usually added to the houses, which are painted white, gray, or some other conspicuous colour. Occasionally one comes across a stone building two or three stories high, usually either the shop of some rich merchant or official, or else a museum, hospital, gymnasium, college for boys or school for girls, or sometimes an immense barracks.

The appearance of these dwellings when grouped together on the hill-tops, as at Omsk, is agreeable, especially so as they are interspersed with the bright-coloured cupolas of the churches. As to the latter, they are innumerable. There is literally one at every corner. Standing at the centre of the cathedral square at Irkutsk, I was able to see no less than seven at a glance. They are all exactly alike, usually painted blue or rose-colour, surmounted by one big cupola, and surrounded by a lot of smaller ones brightly gilt or silvered, and produce an excellent effect in the sun or on a clear moonlight night. Internally they possess all the barbaric splendour of Russian churches, and are a blaze of gilt icons and crystal chandeliers.

Take them for all in all, Siberian towns are far pleasanter to visit than one might imagine. The streets, as a rule, possess a wooden pavement, but after a heavy rain they are very apt to become impassable. A gentleman at Tomsk once assured me that on one occasion when the snow melted a bullock was drowned in the surging mass of water rolling past his door. But, after all, the streets of Chicago and New Orleans are not very well kept, and where the climatic variations are so extreme, it is doubtless almost an impossibility to keep the streets in anything like proper order. Otherwise, the telephone is to be found in all the more important towns, and when the visitor looks up and sees such an amazing number of wires stretching across the streets from pole to pole, he might readily imagine himself in America. The electric light has also been introduced even at Tomsk and Irkutsk. Means of locomotion have by no means been neglected, and you can hire a quick-going little Russian cabriolet for twenty kopecks, or sixpence the fare! What astonishes one most, however, is that, as in Russia, there is scarcely any movement in the streets of these towns, notwithstanding that they are centres of a very active commerce.

Education has made considerable progress in the towns of Siberia, and the wealthier classes are not behindhand in assisting the Government in this direction. At Tomsk a University has recently been established in an immense and very handsome edifice, which contains at present some 500 students. Admission has been wisely rendered much more easy than it is in Russia, and it is expected that before long a faculty of Law will be established, in which the students will be able to study the new legal reforms which Alexander II. introduced some years ago into the judicial system of Russia. Other professorial chairs will be introduced before long in addition to that of Medicine, which is already very well attended. The library contains over 200,000 volumes, the greater part gifts from private benefactors, and not a few of the rarer editions of French and English classics must have originally belonged to libraries dispersed at the time of the French Revolution. A number of comfortable houses have been built in the park attached to the University (only a very short time ago virgin forest) for the benefit of students, who can there receive board and lodging at a very moderate price. In addition to the University, another huge educational establishment, an Institute of Technology, is in progress of construction. Tomsk, although it is somewhat out of the way for commercial purposes, appears to me destined to become before long the intellectual centre of Siberia.

All the Siberian towns possess a theatre. The one at Tomsk was built by a rich merchant some years ago, and during the winter months two permanent troupes give on alternate nights representations of opera and drama. Troupes of Russian actors occasionally visit Siberia, and I remember once seeing two artists, who enjoy great popularity at Moscow, give at Krasnoyarsk a representation in Russian of Shakespeare’s ‘Taming of the Shrew,’ and on the following evening an excellent performance of ‘Madame Sans-Gêne.’ These plays were attended by large and highly appreciative audiences. At Irkutsk there is a really magnificent theatre capable of accommodating a thousand persons, the erection of which cost not less than £32,000. It was built entirely by public subscription, at the head of the list being the Governor. The prices of admission are—stalls 6s. 8d. in the front row; 2s. 2d. in the back seats; 1s. in the first row of the second gallery, and 6d. in the third. These latter are the cheapest seats in the house. Unfortunately, of late years, the wealthier classes show a distinct tendency, thanks to facilities of travel, to spend their money in Russia, and even in Paris, and the rich merchants are no longer inclined to dazzle the Siberians by a somewhat barbaric display of their wealth. At Moscow and Petersburg, doubtless, they find a greater variety of amusements, and no need, in order to spend their money, to follow the example of a certain Siberian millionaire who used to wash his chamber-floor with champagne. Other times, other manners. If the principals go to St. Petersburg, their representatives remain behind, and although they are unable to make any very ostentatious display, nevertheless, they contrive to live comfortably. The position also of the officials, owing probably to the increased facilities of communication and the spread of education, has lost a good deal of its former importance, and governors of provinces, who were in days of yore kings or demigods, are no longer looked upon with any sense of awe, everybody being aware that they receive their daily orders by telegraph from St. Petersburg. Irkutsk, which in former times was the capital, is now only a large provincial city. The grand old Siberian hospitality is disappearing rapidly, and there are not wanting, even in Siberia, old-fashioned people who curse the Trans-Siberian Railway, which is destined sooner or later to revolutionize the manners and customs of Northern Asia.