In 1901, British Journalist John Foster Fraser travelled from Moscow to Vladivostok, and back again, mostly by rail. On his return, he recorded his experiences (and prejudices) in “The Real Siberia”.

In today’s excerpt, Fraser meets Prince Hilkoff, the Minister responsible for Russia’s railways:

At St. Petersburg I met officials. Everyone spoke English. It was not mere courtesy that led them to speak appreciatively of things English. That kind of talk is easily to be seen through. But their liking was honest and deep-seated. They measured things by English standards.

More than once I remarked, “It seems strange that you, a Russian, should take such an interest in English life and methods.” The answer was invariably the same: “I daresay it does; but you must remember that my nursery governess was an English-woman.”

That impressed me. It was not long before I learned that the kindly regard for English folk you find among the upper classes of Russia is to be traced direct to the influence exercised in the nursery by spare-figured English governesses.

[…]A man I had two talks with was Prince Hilkoff, Minister of Ways of Communication, the chief of the railway administration, also of the post roads, rivers, and canals. When I was first received I found in the ante-room, awaiting audience, uniformed officials with rows of orders upon their breasts-a gorgeous, eye-aching display of picturesque garb. I half anticipated to find his Excellency in dazzling dress; but I was greeted by an elderly gentleman in a navy blue lounge suit, and with the easiest of manners. There was nothing Russian or official about him. He looked American, with his long, strong, bronzed face and little tuft of beard that the Americans call a goatee. He spoke English like an American.

“Yes,” he said, “I studied engineering at Birkenhead and afterwards in America. It was when I was a deal younger than I am now. It was at the time of the liberation of the serfs, and my family and I didn’t see that disputed point exactly in the same light. So I packed up and went abroad to shift for myself. It was a little rough, but I guess I got over that. I came back to Russia just when Russia was beginning to be interested in railways. I got a small position - oh! a very small position in the administration.”

“And since then?” I urged.

“Oh, since then,” he replied, “I’ve just worked. I’m just a working man, you know - a sort of blacksmith. But I never worry. What is the good of worrying? When my work is done, I like to shut it right away. Then I play tennis with my children, or I hunt or fish. That’s a great thing I like about English business men. When their work is finished it is really finished, and they get out of doors for exercise. Now, an American can’t play golf without thinking about business. The Americans are a fine go-ahead people, the most go-ahead in the world, but if they would just think there was something else besides business, why I guess they’d get some real value out of life.”

He was very proud of this great Trans-Siberian line, was Prince Hilkoff.

This post is one of a series of excerpts from John Foster Fraser’s “The Real Siberia”. Further excerpts can be found in the Siberian Light archive.

The full text of The Real Siberia is available online at Friends & Partners.