Fred Markham in Russia; Or, The Boy Travellers in the Land of the Czar — Context and Discussion

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Kingston, William Henry Giles, 1814-1880, Landells, Robert Thomas, 1833-1877 [Illustrator] Project Gutenberg 2007 Not confirmed
Friendship -- Juvenile fiction; Brothers -- Juvenile fiction; Kindness -- Juvenile fiction; Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction; Russia -- Juvenile fiction Readers of public-domain and historical texts
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Words 86,194
Reading time 375 min
Text sections 8

This digital edition of Fred Markham in Russia; Or, The Boy Travellers in the Land of the Czar — Context and Discussion is described by source-level measurements including 86,194 words, 6 hr 15 min estimated reading time, and 8 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 21.9 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Friendship -- Juvenile fiction,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

An editorial note examining how Kingston's 1875 boys' adventure story uses a Russian travelogue framework to embed religious dissent narratives, focusing on the Molokani sect and the tension between catalog subjects and actual content.
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She had only a small part of her cargo on board, and yet the master promised to sail on the following morning. The boys were incredulous.

"Modern cranes, system, and activity will work wonders," said Cousin Giles; and he was right.

By nine o'clock the next morning the vessel was ready to sail. They spent the interim in walking about the docks, full of vessels of all nations,--sixteen steamers, they heard, ran between Hull and Saint Petersburg,--in looking at the quaint old houses of the town, and in visiting the monument raised to Wilberforce,--a lofty pillar, the first object which greets the mariner as he returns home. At the base is a simple inscription: "Negro Emancipation, 1832."

"How far more worthy was he of the pillar than most people who have monuments raised to them; and yet how he would have despised such an honour, unless it induces others to labour as he did for the benefit of their fellow-creatures," remarked Cousin Giles. "Remember, my lads, this monument, and endeavour to walk in that great man's footsteps."

A lovely morning found the voyagers on board the _Ladoga_, and, after much pulling and hauling, clear of the docks, and steaming down the Humber.

Cousin Giles face wore an expression of dissatisfaction as he found her deck crowded with huge, heavy iron machines and bales of cotton.

"This is nothing; we are often obliged to carry twice as much deck cargo," said the master. "Competition is so great, we must do everything to make the vessel pay."

"Were a heavy gale to spring up, it is your underwriters would have to pay, I suspect," answered. Cousin Giles.

"Oh, you don't know what this vessel would go through," replied the young master.

"Humph!" remarked the old lieutenant; "I know where she would go to if you did not heave all this deck lumber overboard."

"I presume you have been to sea before?" said the master.

"At times," answered Cousin Giles quietly.

England sends large quantities of machinery of all sorts to Russia. The cotton had come from America to Liverpool, had been thence sent across the country by railway to Hull, and was going to supply numerous manufactories of cotton goods which have been established in Russia, and fostered by high protective duties. They are chiefly managed by Englishmen, and the foremen are mostly English or German. Manual labour is cheaper than in England, as is the expense of erecting the buildings; but, as all other items cost much more, the Russians have to pay very dearly for the cotton goods they use. Even with the high duties imposed on them, they can buy English manufactures cheaper than their own.

In addition to the cargo on deck, there were twelve fine horses which an English groom was taking over for a Russian nobleman, who was to figure at the approaching coronation of the Emperor. The Russians set great value on English horses, and employ a considerable number of English grooms, many of whom raise themselves to respectable situations, as had the man who had charge of the horses in question.

There were several other passengers, some of whom were English merchants who had resided in Russia for many years, and from them the friends gained a considerable amount of valuable information. This Cousin Giles had particularly the art of eliciting from his companions, and Fred and Harry had abundance to do in noting it down. The cabins and saloon were both comfortable and handsome. The latter was lined with mahogany, had gilt mouldings, and the sofas which surrounded it were covered with cool, clean, antibilious-looking chintz, while in the centre there was a sociable table, with a skylight overhead. Everything, also, was provided by the young master to conduce to the comfort of his passengers.

On the afternoon of the day they sailed, the sky looked wildish, and the master prognosticated either wind or heavy rain. A thunder-storm played at a distance round the ship; the lightning flashed vividly, but scarcely a mutter of the clouds' artillery was heard; some heavy showers fell, then the weather cleared up. The stars shone forth brightly from the clear sky, and the waning moon arose and shed her silvery light on the calm water, over which the breeze played with just sufficient strength to crisp it into silvery wavelets. It was a night for meditation and prayer. Unhappy is the state of man who can look forth from the deck of a ship on such a scene and not feel gratitude to the Framer of the magnificent firmament above him,--whom it does not make more meditative, more prayerful, than his wont,--whom it does not cause to think of eternity.

The next day a bright silvery fog hung over the sea, yet so dense that no eye could pierce the bowsprit's length through it. The engines were therefore put at half their power, yet even then the vessel went nearly seven knots through the water.

The lads were delighted with the smooth, easy way in which the vessel glided on. They remarked it to Cousin Giles.

"You think it is very pleasant, because you see no danger, my dear boys," he answered. "Much the same aspect does vice bear to the young, while they shrink with fear from the storm of adversity. Now, `a wise seaman dreads a calm near a coast where there are currents, and a fog far more than heavy gales of wind in the open ocean.' Put that down in your log,--it is worth remembering, as the lesson you have learned from a calm and a fog."

Cousin Giles finds an old Shipmate--Tom Puffing's Account of the Wreck of the _Victoria_--Miraculous Escape of Part of the Crew--God's merciful Providence displayed--Cousin Giles converses with the Crew-- First Sight of Denmark, Elsinore, and its Castle--View of Copenhagen-- Description of the Battle and its Cause--Sunday Service on board Ship--Voyage up the Baltic--The Gulf of Finland--Cronstadt and its Batteries--Why the British did not take them--The Czar's Mode of Manning a Ship in a Hurry--The Russian Fleet--Leave their Steamer and proceed towards Saint Petersburg.

Cousin Giles soon found his way forward, over the bales of cotton and piles of hay, followed by Fred and Harry, and entered into conversation with the crew. He had not been long there when an old weather-beaten seaman put his head up the fore hatchway. "Ah! Tom Pulling. I thought that I had caught sight of the face of an old shipmate," exclaimed Cousin Giles, stretching out his hand. "How fares it with you?"

The old man's countenance brightened as he returned the grasp warmly.

"Is it you, indeed? I am glad to see you--that I am," he answered. "I've a good berth now, though I've had knocking about enough since I sailed with you last in the _Juno_. I was cast away in these very parts some time back, and never had a narrower chance of losing my life, so to speak."

Cousin Giles asked old Tom how this had happened. The other seamen who were not on duty drew near to listen to the old man's oft-spun yarn, and our young friends stood by, eager to hear what he had got to say.

"Why, you see, sir," he replied, "after I was discharged from the old _Melampus_, I thought I'd try if a short-voyage steamer would suit me better than a man-of-war, seeing that I'd got a wife and family to look after; so I shipped on board the _Victoria_ steamer, running from the port of Hull to Saint Petersburg. It was our last voyage that year. About the 6th of November, I think, we left the Humber; but we hoped to get to Cronstadt and away again before the ice set in. The weather was as fair as could be wished for, and with smooth water; so we all made up our minds that we were going to have a quick run of it. Howsomever, the wind breezed up a little on the second day, and by nightfall it blew pretty freshish, with a heavyish sea on. We had much the same sort of weather on the third day, and at night it came on so thick and dark that we could not see our hands held out before us. Still all seemed going on well. We supposed that we were steering a course through the Skaggerack, with a good offing from the land, when, just about the middle of the first watch, as the passengers were in the cabin, maybe thinking of turning in to their warm beds all snug, and talking of what they would do next day at Copenhagen, where we were to touch, without an instant's warning--bang! Crash!--loud shrieks and cries of terror were heard, the ship quivered from stem to stern as if her last moment was come. It was not far off, either; the sea came roaring up abaft and made a clean sweep over her. She had struck heavily on a rock of some sort, that was certain; but where we were, or how it had happened, no one could tell. Every one was running here and there, crying for help, when there was no one to help them; some took to praying, some to blaspheming; terror seemed to have taken away their senses. I did think that all of us had seen the sun rise for the last time, for it was too dark by far to allow us to try and help ourselves; and, from the way the sea kept striking the ship, I knew full well she could not long hold together.

"Well, Mr Fairman, I'm not ashamed to say I prayed as I never prayed before; and, you'll believe me, sir, I felt a comfort and an assurance of my Maker's protection which also I had never felt before. As my ears caught the sound of the dreadful oaths of the blasphemers, I thought of the Day of Judgment. When that awful time comes, and the world breaks up like the ship, how will such men and many others, amid the clouds and thick darkness which will surround them, be able to pray? No; they'll blaspheme on, as they are doing now, to the end. The captain, to do him but justice, behaved nobly. He did his best to keep order and discipline on board. He told the people that, if they would but remain by the ship, they all might be saved. He could not say, like Saint Paul, they would be saved. Few listened to him; some, however, stayed by his side and promised to support him. They had been on their knees asking support for themselves; whence only it can come, you know, sir. Others, on the contrary, got hold of one of the boats, and began to lower her into the water. The captain prayed and begged of them to desist, but they would not hearken to him. There were some of the crew and some of the passengers, and when he tried to prevent them they threatened to heave him overboard. At last they got the boat into the water, and eight of them jumped into her and shoved off from the ship's side. In an instant, as he had told them it would be, the boat was capsized, and all hands were thrown into the raging sea. One poor wretch had on a life-preserver--he thought, at all events, that he was all safe, and that he could not drown; the rest had nothing to float them. For half a minute their cries were heard, and then they sank nearly all together, and his voice alone struck our ears, shrieking out for help, but no help could be given him. He was striking out for the ship, I judged; sometimes by his voice he seemed to have got nearer, but that might have been my fancy; then a sea came rolling by, and drove him farther off again. It was very dreadful to hear that poor dying wretch, and not be able to help him. He was a strong man, and for long struggled on; nearly an hour perhaps passed, but his voice grew fainter and fainter, and at last was no longer heard.

"All this time the ship was striking heavily, hammering away on the rock as if she was pile-driving. We burned all the blue lights we had on board, in the hopes of drawing the attention of some fishermen or other passing craft; but they only enabled those on board to see the horrors of our situation. Nearly four hours had thus passed, when a shout from the cook, who said he saw a signal, made us fancy help was coming to us; but in another minute we found that it was only the moon rising through a gap in the clouds. We all earnestly longed for morning, for till daylight came we could do nothing. The moon only served to show us more clearly the horrors of our situation. Piece after piece of the vessel was washed away, but still all those who remained round the captain were safe. At last there was a faint light in the east; it grew stronger and stronger, and there was twilight enough to let us see to the distance of a mile or two. About a mile off appeared a rock high enough out of the water to serve us as a refuge. The captain at once ordered a boat to be lowered, and all the women and children to be put into her, with five men to pull her to the rock. It was a work of no little danger to the poor creatures, but we at last got them all safe off, and with many a prayer watched them till they reached the rock. We had another boat, and there were fourteen of us remaining on the wreck. We all got into her, but we instantly saw that thus crowded she would be swamped before she could reach the shore. `Never mind, my fine fellows, I'll stay by the wreck!' exclaimed the captain, jumping on board again. `Who'll follow me?'

"`I'll stay by you, captain,' said I; and five others said the same. The rest shoved off, and reached the rock in safety, but the sea was too high to allow the boat to return. Then we seven souls were left on the wreck, which was every moment breaking up beneath our feet. The after-part of the vessel was soon completely gone--then we retreated forward; then the forecastle--that soon began to break up, and we had to hold on amidships. We tried to keep up each other's spirits by telling how seamen had often been preserved in worse situations even than ours, and most of us did not cease to pray to God to save us. The sea, after we returned on board the wreck, got up even more than before.

"At last a sea, still heavier than the rest, came rolling towards us. `Hold on! Hold on, my lads, for your lives!' shouted our brave captain; but in a minute there was scarcely anything to hold on to. He himself was carried away some fathoms from the wreck. Our situation was bad enough, but it did not make us forget our captain. We would have done anything to help him, but there was not a rope we could lay hold of to heave to him. By God's mercy he had on a life-belt, and he got hold of a piece of plank. Thus he kept afloat, and, working away with his feet, he was able once more to reach the wreck. His return--it seemed almost to life--cheered us up not a little. No long time, however, passed before another sea struck the fragments to which we clung, knocking them all to pieces, and sending us to float alone on the waves. One part only of the wreck remained above the water--it was the boiler. We all swam back to it, and clung on as well as we could; but we saw that, what with the cold and the sea, which kept breaking over us, we should soon be washed off again. `If we could but get inside the boiler, we might find some shelter,' said the captain; but, try all we could, we could not make a hole big enough to get through. We were almost in despair. A fourth great sea came tumbling in on us. We all thought that it would prove our destruction; so did the captain. `Good-bye, my lads, good-bye!' he exclaimed. `God have mercy on us all!' On came the breaker, and for a moment we were all under it. When it cleared away, we were still holding on.

"Directly afterwards the engineer gave a shout of joy. `See what Providence has sent us!' he cried out, as he held up a large pair of blacksmith's pincers which that very sea we thought would destroy us had washed on to the boiler. `God intends us to save our lives,' he added; for he was a pious man, and always acknowledged whence all blessings come to us. We set to work manfully with the pincers, and soon forced off enough of the top of the boiler to let us all creep in. We felt that it was firmly fixed on the rock, and here we were much more sheltered than before from the sea. Hunger and cold next began to tell on us. We had not before had time to feel either. One of our men had an apple in his pocket. He handed it to the captain. `There, captain,' said he, `what is sent to one is sent to all. Serve it out, if you please, among us: if any one has a quid in his pouch, or a bit of biscuit, let him do the same!' We all felt in our pockets, but could find nothing to eat; so the captain took the apple, and, cutting it into seven bits, each took one, and munched away at it as long as it would stay in our mouths. All the time we were looking out anxiously for a sail, but nothing could we see but the dark, tumbling, foaming breakers around us. Not even the rock where our companions had got could we see. Noon passed, hour after hour crept by after it, the horrors of another night threatened us, and we began to give way to despair. Some of us talked of giving up, and dropping into the sea. The captain rebuked the grumblers sternly. `You heard what the engineer said, my lads: "God intends to save our lives," and I feel now he was right.' Scarcely had he spoken when the engineer shouted out, `A sail! A sail!' We all looked out eagerly. There was a fishing-boat standing towards us. In half an hour she had hove-to to leeward of the wreck. Her brave crew lowered their sail and pulled in towards us: but they could not venture very near, and it was no easy matter to get on board. All we could do was to wait till the seas washed over us, and then one by one we plunged in; and they carried us clear of the rocks, which would otherwise have knocked us to pieces. Thus we all got on board the little craft, and were carried safely on shore. The same fishing-boat had before taken off our companions from the rock, and they had then sent her to our assistance.

"Now you will like to know how the accident happened without any blame to the captain, or any one on board? The truth was that we had, as part of the cargo, a quantity of iron. This had set all our compasses wrong, making us twenty or thirty miles out of our course at least. I've often since thought, Mr Fairman, if we hadn't a true compass to steer by like the Bible, which of us would escape the rocks which lie in our course in life; and it's my opinion that those who do steer by it never get far wrong."

The young travellers thanked old Tom very much for his interesting narrative, and Cousin Giles spun a long yarn with him afterwards about old times. Cousin Giles had also a talk with each of the crew, and gave them some books and tracts, for which they were very thankful.

Fred Markham in Russia opens with a domestic negotiation: two boys, Fred and Harry, beg their parents for permission to travel with Cousin Giles, a retired naval lieutenant. The early chapters establish a pattern of enthusiastic dialogue and detailed descriptions of steamship travel, aligning with the catalog subject of 'Voyages and travels.' Yet the excerpts reveal a second, less advertised thread. By Chapter Eleven, the narrative shifts to a merchant who, after displaying embroidered caps and silver spoons, discloses his identity as a Molokani—a 'milk-drinker' dissenter from the Russian Orthodox Church. This pivot from commercial transaction to religious testimony suggests the book may serve purposes beyond straightforward adventure.

The Catalog vs. the Text: What the Subjects Omit

The Project Gutenberg catalog lists 'Friendship -- Juvenile fiction; Brothers -- Juvenile fiction; Kindness -- Juvenile fiction; Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction; Russia -- Juvenile fiction.' These are accurate but incomplete. The excerpts show that the narrative devotes substantial space to the Molokani sect's history, their persecution by the Greek Church, and their clandestine Bible distribution. The merchant's story—'Many years ago the unadulterated word of God… was brought into Russia without note or comment'—is not a brief aside but a sustained account spanning multiple chapters. The catalog subjects do not mention religious dissent, persecution, or sectarian conflict, which are central to the portions excerpted. Readers expecting only light adventure may encounter unexpected theological and historical content.

Cousin Giles: A Guide with a Dual Role

Cousin Giles is introduced as a 'lieutenant in the navy' with a 'weather-beaten countenance' and a talent for describing what he has seen. He is the life of juvenile parties, a promoter of sports. But in Russia, he becomes a careful observer and a gatekeeper. When the merchant appears, Giles 'was observing him narrowly' and whispers to Mr. Allwick, 'Why, he is our friend the mujick. The man can masquerade well.' This suspicion contrasts with the merchant's earnest plea. Giles later agrees to hear the man's story but says, 'I cannot promise to help him.' His role shifts from entertainer to cautious intermediary, suggesting the book may explore moral and religious questions through his reactions. The excerpts do not reveal whether Giles ultimately assists the Molokani, leaving his character arc ambiguous.

The Merchant's Testimony: Structure and Voice

The merchant's story is delivered as a first-person narrative within the frame, translated by Mr. Allwick. He describes how the Bible reached his province: 'Some said that a stranger from another land brought many volumes… in a large chest, and that he travelled about from village to village.' The voice is earnest and detailed, recounting communal Bible reading 'in the fields in summer, under the shade of trees' and the purchase of copies at 'great cost.' This embedded narrative gives the Molokani a direct voice, distinct from the boys' perspective. The shift in register—from the boys' exclamations ('It will be jolly!') to the merchant's solemn account—creates a tonal contrast. The excerpts do not indicate how long this story continues or whether it resolves, but its inclusion suggests Kingston intended to educate readers about religious diversity in Russia.

Readers approaching Fred Markham in Russia as a simple boys' travelogue should be prepared for extended passages on religious persecution and sectarian history. The catalog subjects underrepresent this dimension. Pay attention to how Cousin Giles's reactions and the merchant's embedded narrative interact with the adventure framework. The excerpts leave unresolved whether the Molokani thread concludes or is abandoned, making the full text worth consulting for its treatment of faith and tolerance in a 19th-century children's novel.

Reading about the Molokani’s quiet persistence under the Tsar, I remembered how Dorothy’s Triumph made me feel that same hush—a girl slowly finding her own footing in a house of unspoken rules. Both books felt less like adventures and more like watching someone hold their breath until the door finally opened. Dorothy’s Triumph — Text and Context stays with me that way.

Scarlett Jackson
2 weeks ago

Daniel Young
3 weeks ago

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  • ...
    George Harvey - 4 weeks ago
    A captivating travelogue adventure that transports readers to 19th-century Russia. Fred Markham's journey is rich with cultural observations, vivid descriptions of landscapes, and encounters that bring history to life. The book blends education with entertainment, making it a superb choice for young readers with a thirst for exploration and a curiosity about different lands. Highly recommended for its historical value and engaging narrative.

  • ...
    Joshua Powell - 2 weeks ago
    An informative and well-researched account of Russia during the Czarist era, framed through Fred Markham's travels. The descriptive prose offers a detailed glimpse into the country's geography and society. However, the pacing can be slow in parts, and the story often takes a backseat to facts, which might not hold the attention of readers seeking a faster-moving adventure. Still, it's a solid read for those interested in historical travel narratives.

  • ...
    Catherine Richardson - 1 week ago
    Despite its promising title, this book is a tedious read. The narrative is bogged down by excessive factual details and lacks a compelling plot to drive the story forward. Characterization is minimal, and Fred Markham feels more like a cardboard guide than a relatable protagonist. The language is archaic, making it difficult for modern readers to engage. An overall dry experience that fails to deliver the adventure it promises.


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