Dear Readers! This year, together with you, we’ve had the pleasure of taking an amazing journey into the past of our beloved city every two weeks. Thanks to the memoirs of Felix Osipovich von Reingardt, Mikhail Pavlovich Zhdanov, an official at the Ministry of Internal Affairs; Alexander Grigoryevich Bezgin, a visiting journalist; and Alexandra Andreevna Voronina, the wife of a traitor—we were able to see Kharkiv across different eras and from various perspectives. On our final journey of the year, I invite you to see the beautiful city of Kharkiv through the eyes of someone who was sincerely and madly in love with it. Let’s take a stroll through the 19th-century city—where all the most interesting things were just beginning—together with a “tour guide” after whom many significant sites in Kharkiv are now named…
In 1843, the university printing press began publishing the Ukrainian literary anthology (almanac) *Molodik*.
The first issue opened with a piece by Hryhoriy Kvitka-Osnovyanenko titled “The Founding of Kharkiv. An Ancient Legend.” The author dedicated the text to Valerian Andreevich Kvitka, and the young writer identified his own ancestor as the city’s “founding father.” Allegedly, a certain Andrei Kvitka, having fallen in love with a voivode’s daughter, fled with her from Kyiv to these parts and built his own estate. One day, while taking a walk on University Hill, he was struck by the magnificent view that unfolded before him and decided to found a city on that spot.
Of course, this fantastical story about the origins of our beloved city shouldn’t be taken seriously.
Something else is far more important and valuable to us. After all, right at the beginning, Hryhoriy Kvitka-Osnovyanenko paints a vivid picture of Kharkiv and its residents.
Yes, the city of Kharkiv is different from many provincial cities.
Take a look at it—whether just a quick glance or with the utmost attention—it’s a delight! The streets are smooth, clean, and straight; the public buildings are magnificent, and the private homes are beautiful and charming; the stores are filled with all kinds of goods, an abundance of items constantly being replaced by the newest and most elegant; no sooner does something appear in St. Petersburg than it’s already been brought to Kharkiv and sold. Schools, a theater, a market square, various artistic institutions… what doesn’t it have! How long it takes to walk the length of the city—you’ll get tired, simply exhausted; and to walk all the way around it—don’t even think it’s possible in a single day; and that’s not even counting the suburbs. And what’s truly remarkable about it is that this year the city seems to have reached its very limits; the outermost courtyard is known; next year, you’ll see, several streets will have already branched out into the countryside from that courtyard, little houses will have been built, and the city’s boundaries will have shifted. But what’s more? Osnova itself (please don’t forget this; we’ll need to remember it)—Osnova is already almost connected to the city—the city is merging into it. This year, you walk through the city, going from street to street, and see little houses and buildings—wooden ones, not only not dilapidated but not even old yet; go there the following year… Good heavens! Where am I? All of this has been replaced by new, stone buildings—no longer mere houses, but vast mansions, two, three, or four stories high; and everything is beautiful, charming, and everywhere is filled with people—everywhere there is life, movement, bustle…. No, there really isn’t a single empty, unoccupied corner in the whole city.
By next summer, fifty multi-story buildings will have sprung up from the ground, each stretching for dozens of sazhens; the upper floors are still being built—the roof is still a long way off—while downstairs, residents go about their business. It follows, then, that construction is underway, and there are plenty of materials to build with. It follows, then, that the population is growing—people aren’t leaving Kharkiv, but are flocking to it from all over. It follows, then, that life here is free, peaceful, and comfortable: for the craftsman, provided he isn’t out of work; for the industrialist who successfully manages his operations; for the merchant who profitably sells his goods; wherever they find protection and patronage from the authorities, they flock there in droves. For those who understand where science is leading, what a convenience it is to educate their children! People come to Kharkiv from all over! They settle down to live here until their children finish their studies; before you know it, they’ve bought a house and stayed with us forever: peaceful, pleasant, financially secure, and cheerful… what more could one need for a carefree life?
Look at this fine fellow, this dandy traveling between cities; look at Kharkiv on this festive, solemn day—it’s a marvel! The clatter of carriages on the cobblestones in various streets—everyone rushing toward a single destination… the finest of carriages; fashionable, dazzling, beautiful; horses worthy of envy, one harness more elegant than the next, glowing and shining like fire; the coachmen in their post-coach uniforms, dashingly tailored and lavishly adorned caftans; nimble, dashing footmen in gleaming liveries with epaulets… you stand aside, admiring it all; there’s nothing to criticize! – Enter the Cathedral: make your way through the ranks of the distinguished merchants—and what kind of merchants are these? When they happen to speak among themselves about business, they’re talking about millions; they rarely even mention hundreds of thousands. Walk on: here you are among the officials; all in uniforms—shiny, sumptuous, imposing—gold, silver, glitter; look to the left: women, young ladies—modesty, beauty, the beauty of jewelry and finery everywhere; everything is proper, everything is tasteful; pearls, diamonds—that’s the height of luxury here… look, and you’ll never tire of looking; admire, and you’ll never tire of admiring!
All these good Christians spend each day according to their means, in harmony and unity, and thus in a pleasant atmosphere. In one house, twenty people dine; in another, thirty or fifty. Everywhere there is luxury and abundance! The finest delicacies, wines, succulent fruits from abroad, silver, crystal, vases of flowers… Chatter, jokes, laughter, and a sense of freedom enliven the dinners. The conversations are free of gossip, even though more than half of the diners are ladies; no gossip; sound, straightforward reasoning; they discuss and debate music, literature, and the arts—you listen… their judgments are precise, je vous assure, more insightful than in any other journal.
Evening has fallen. We didn’t make plans or set a time, yet here we are all together again—at the theater or in this noble gathering. At the theater, there’s plenty to see, plenty to do, and afterward, you can listen to insightful opinions—even if they aren’t printed. Step into the distinguished gathering… the hall is magnificent, enormous! Even kings have praised it!… Light, splendor, a throng of people. Polite, decorous, cheerful; in the crowd, no one jostles you—it seems everyone is concerned for your comfort. Talk to whomever you like about whatever you wish; you’ll find knowledge, refinement, and insight… Take a look at the beautiful assembly seated on the raised platform, awaiting the ball. Well? What do you say? A garden of flowers, sir, and what a garden it is! Exquisite, charming, each flower perfectly matched to the next, fragrant, aromatic… Well, I won’t mince words; my head is spinning—I gaze, I admire, and… The attire, the decor, the finesse in everything; everything is in its place, graceful—it couldn’t be better. After chatting with the young people surrounding you, you had a pleasant time and enjoyed some meaningful conversation… Approaching the flower garden, you admire it; here are students, officials… Whatever you care to discuss—Russian or French literature, German or Italian music, composers… sound judgment, intelligent discourse, correct French, and a clear pronunciation… The capital—truly, the capital!..
The music blares—quadrilles, waltzes, mazurkas—and everything proceeds in its proper order. Everywhere there is grace, agility, and decorum; in the conversations between couples, there is wit, courtesy, and just a touch of
Our Kharkiv makes me laugh!… How it has grown fat, how it has expanded, how it has decked itself out! It has attracted out-of-town merchants who handle millions, established higher education, dressed itself up, become all fancy, struts about in a European manner, dances French quadrilles, strolls through crowded fairs, stocks up on the very best of the best, flirts with the ladies, never tires of boasting about his wisdom, swells with pride at his far-reaching fame, boasts before his brothers, won’t let anyone step on his toes, watches only as his older brothers doff their hats before him, while he himself, tilting his head back and tucking his hands into his pockets in the capital’s style, thinks he’s quite the dandy!Oh, my dear boy! Well, what do you say—shall I tell you about your birth, how you grew up and came of age? Comparing how you were at first and how you are now—it’s just hilarious! It went like this—you were just okay, nothing special, didn’t even set your sights on small towns, but look how luck turned out for you!
Few descriptions of Kharkiv have been written with such unabashed enthusiasm and admiration. That’s what our city was like; that’s how we lost it—and what it will become depends on us now. Who knows—perhaps in a hundred or two hundred years, some researcher will come across a description of a beautiful, comfortable, and welcoming place to live called Kharkiv?
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