The Story of Moscow

THE mediæval pilgrim to Moscow, getting his first glimpse of the Holy City from Salutation Hill, saw before him much the same sight as the tourist of to-day may look upon from the same spot. Three miles away a hill crowned with white-walled buildings, many towers, gilded domes and spires topped with Cross-and-Crescent; outside the wall that encircles this hill, groups of buildings, large and small; open fields, treessingly, in rows, clumps and thicketsseparate group from group; ever and anon above the many hued roofs reach belfries, spires, steeples, domes and minarets innumerable. Beyond, to right and left, the scene repeats itself until the bright coloured buildings become indistinguishable from the masses of verdure and all merge in the haze of the plains east and west, or the faint outline of forest to the north. Long ago the tremendous extent of this town, apparently without limit, amazed strangers no less than the richness and multitude of its buildings filled pilgrims with awe and reverence. To the tourist to-day it is as a vision of magnificent splendour and brilliance, for seen in the clear sunlight of a summer day Moscow has beauty and brightness no other city possesses. Long lines of ivory whiteness capped with vivid green or flushed with carmine and ruby; great globes of deepest blue, patches of purple and dashes of aquamarine; many gleaming domes of gold, glowing halos of burnished copper, dazzling points of glistening silversuch make Moscow at sunset like part of a rainbow streaked with lightning and thickly bedizened with great gems. Intense colours, sharp contrasts characterise Moscow. The extravagances of design and colouring, unconcealable even in the general prospect, are obvious on closer inspection. The stranger arriving by railway gets no bird's-eye view of the town; but on his way from the station in the suburbs towards the central town sees the painted roofs, coloured walls, pretentious pillars, cupolas with golden stars, strange towers, fantastic gates, immense buildings, tiny cottages, magnificent spaces, narrow winding streets; irregularities and incongruities so many that Moscow first, and most lastingly, impresses by its bizarrerie. With fuller acquaintance the diversity of style appears in keeping with the spirit of the place, and seeming incongruities are softened, or redeemed, by originality of design or execution. The buildings of Moscow are multiform, but there is dissimilarity rather than contrariety; the usual elsewhere is the unconventional here, and conformity is attained by each being unlike all others. An early traveller wrote: "One might imagine all the states of Europe and Asia had sent a building by way of representation to Moscow," and in a certain sense this is still true. But it would be incorrect to assume, therefore, that cosmopolitanism is a dominant trait. The very reverse is the fact. Moscow is essentially Russian, and though there is abundant evidence of borrowing from Greece, Italy and Byzantium; from Moor, Goth and Mongol; of appropriation of classic, mediæval and renaissance methods, the prevalent style seems to be not exactly the combination of any so much as the outcome of all. Not that indigenous forms are wanting, but their elemental quality is obscured by the wondrous versatility and adaptability of the artists. The result is as confusing as though an author in writing out his original ideas made constant random use of different alphabets in each word. This method, so characteristic of Russia, is perplexing rather than intricate, but he would be very learned or foolhardy who, acting on the rule that to see the house is to know the inmates, if shown Moscow should at once predicate the character of its inhabitants.

Dettagli