Jottmgs from Russia. 323 



JOTTINGS FROM RUSSIA. 



[The following are extracts from letters of Charles Palache, '91, who has been 

 attending the International Geological Convention at St. Petersburg, as the repre- 

 sentative of Harvard Universitj-- As the title indicates- they are hasty notes made 

 en [route, with no thought of publication, and with little or no chance for revi- 

 sion.— Ed.] 



Moscow, July 28, 1897. 

 A T LAST we are across the border into the New World that 

 has aroused so much expectation in us all, and perhaps not a 

 little fear as well. So far our experiences have been only of 

 the pleasantest, and the auguries seem good for our further ad- 

 vance. And now I am in Moscow, a fact of which I have con- 

 stantly to reassure myself, so unreal and impossible does it 

 seem. Here at last is a city that does not disappoint one's 

 expectations, but even far surpasses our wildest dreams. 

 Strange and new in every feature, new architectural forms, new 

 people and customs, and above all, a richness of coloring that 

 quite defies description, and is the most impressive feature of 

 the scene. Last evening in the long fading light of the north- 

 ern summer day, I stepped within the walls ot the Kremlin 

 with B. and for a few moments we stopped in wonder. It was 

 a feast of color. On either hand, large palaces of a buff 

 colored stucco framed a church and cloister in fronti The 

 cloister was of a faint pinkish color, also in stucco, its roof of 

 a tender green which is nearly the green of old copper,, but 

 still different, and above that rose a cluster of the bulbous 

 domes so characteristic of the country, covered with polished 

 gold, and here part of them with a deep blue that seemed in the 

 soft light like richest plush. I was continually surprised to 

 find such harmony among such apparantly harsh combina- 

 tions. But every turn showed us new vistas, each with a new 

 or greater charm. Here the famous great bell Ivan, there and 

 on every side, church after church, each with its cluster of 

 gilded domes, each surmounted with the Greek cross. Finally 

 the parapet where we could look off across the Moskawa river 

 to the city beyond with its countless domes and spires all gilded 

 and shining in the fading light. The impressions of that first 

 real sight of Russia are deep and lasting in my memory. 



