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Khitrovka, Ivanovskaya Gorka, Maroseyka, Pokrovka. Khitrovka. From Slavyanskaya Square to Khitrovskaya

"Moscow and Muscovites - KHITROVKA"

For some reason, in my imagination, Khitrov Market was depicted as London, which I had never seen.

London has always seemed to me to be the foggiest place in Europe, and Khitrov Market is undoubtedly the foggiest place in Moscow.

A large square in the center of the capital, near the Yauza River, surrounded by peeling stone houses, lies in a lowland into which several alleys descend like streams into a swamp. She's always smoking. Especially in the evening.

And if it’s a little foggy or after rain, you look from above, from the height of the alley -

horror takes over a fresh person: the cloud has settled! You go down the alley into a moving rotten pit.

Crowds of ragged people move in the fog, flashing around the foggy lights, like in a bathhouse. These are food vendors sitting in rows on huge cast iron pots or pots with “stewed meat”, fried rotten sausage, boiling in iron boxes over braziers, with broth, which is better called “dog joy”...

Khitrovsky “gourmets” love to feast on leftovers. “But it was a hazel grouse!” - some “former” savors it. And who is simpler - eats stewed potatoes with rancid lard, cheek, throat, lung and cow's tripe wrapped in a roll with unwashed greens from the contents of the stomach - tripe, which is called "hazel grouse" here.

And all around, steam bursts out in clouds from the doors of shops and taverns that open every minute and merges into a general fog, of course, fresher and clearer than inside the taverns and lodging houses, which are disinfected only by tobacco smoke, which slightly destroys the smell of rotten footcloths, human fumes and burnt vodka.

The two- and three-story houses around the square are all full of such shelters, in which up to ten thousand people slept and huddled. These houses brought huge profits to homeowners. Each lodger paid a nickel per night, and

“rooms” cost two kopecks. Under the lower bunks, raised an arshin from the floor, there were lairs for two; they were separated by a hanging mat.

The space an arshin in height and one and a half arshin in width between two mattings is the “number” where people spent the night without any bedding except their own rags...

Artels of visiting workers came to the square directly from the train stations and stood under a huge canopy, specially built for them. Contractors came here in the mornings and took the hired crews to work. After noon, the shed was put at the disposal of the Khitorov residents and traders: the latter bought up everything they could get their hands on. The poor people who sold their clothes and shoes immediately took them off and changed into bast shoes or props instead of boots, and from their suits into “changes up to the seventh generation”, through which the body is visible...

The houses where the shelters were located were named after the surnames of the owners: Bunin, Rumyantsev, Stepanova (then Yaroshenko) and Romeiko (then Kulakova). In Rumyantsev's house there were two taverns - "Peresylny" and "Sibir", and in Yaroshenko's house - "Katorga". The names, of course, are unspoken, but the Khitrovans adopted them. Homeless people, beggars and horse dealers gathered in “Peresylny”,

"Siberia" - the highest level - were thieves, pickpockets and large buyers of stolen goods, and above all was "Katorga" - a den of violent and drunken debauchery, an exchange for thieves and fugitives. The “convert” who returned from Siberia or prison did not pass this place. The arrival, if he is truly "businesslike", was greeted here with honor. He was immediately “put to work.”

Police reports confirmed that the majority of criminal fugitives from Siberia were arrested in Moscow at Khitrovka.

The entire Khitrov market was run by two policemen - Rudnikov and Lokhmatkin.

Only the “punks” were really afraid of their huge fists, and the “business guys”

They were on friendly terms with both representatives of the authorities and, upon returning from hard labor or escaping from prison, the first thing they did was go to bow to them. Both of them knew all the criminals by sight, having taken a closer look at them over the course of their quarter-century of continuous service. And there’s no way you can hide from them: all the same, they’ll report that so-and-so has returned to such-and-such an apartment.

The ruler of Khitrovka is standing at his post, sucking on his pipe and sees some figure making his way along the wall, hiding his face.

Boldoh! - the policeman thunders.

And the figure, tearing his hat off his head, approaches.

Hello, Fedot Ivanovich!

From Nerchinsk. Just yesterday I got sick. Sorry for now...

Just make sure it’s quiet and peaceful with me, Seryozhka, otherwise...

We don’t know something, not for the first time. Our people...

And when the investigator for especially important cases V.F. Keizer asked Rudnikov:

Is it true that you know by sight all the fugitive criminals on Khitrovka and will not arrest them?

That’s why I’ve been standing there on duty for twenty years, otherwise I can’t stand even a day, they’ll kill me! Of course, I know everyone.

And the Khitrovans “prospered” under such power. Rudnikov was a one-of-a-kind type. He was considered fair even by escaped convicts, and therefore was not killed, although he was beaten and wounded during arrests more than once. But they did not wound him out of malice, but only to save their own skin. Everyone did their job: one caught and held, and the other hid and ran.

This is the convict logic.

The entire Khitrov market was afraid of Rudnikov like fire:

If you get caught, he'll take it!

They will order and find him.

Over twenty years of serving as a policeman among rags and runaways, Rudnikov developed a special view of everything:

Well, a convict... Well, a thief... a beggar... a tramp... They're also people, everyone wants to live. But the fact that? I am alone against them all. Can you catch them all? If you catch one, others will come running... You have to live!

During my wanderings through the slums and crime reporting, I often met with Rudnikov and was always amazed at his ability to find a trace where there seemed to be nothing. I remember one of the typical meetings with him.

My friend, actor Vasya Grigoriev, and I were visiting friends on Pokrovsky Boulevard on a rainy September evening. At about eleven o'clock at night they were getting ready to leave, and then it turned out that Grigoriev's summer coat had disappeared from the hanger. According to the footprints, it turned out that the thief climbed through the open window, got dressed and went out the door.

The neighbors worked... From Khitrov. This is already a common thing for us. “Forgot to lock the window!” said the old cook.

Vasya almost cries - the coat is new. I console him:

If they're sneaky, we'll find them.

We said goodbye to the owners and went to the 3rd section of the Myasnitskaya unit. The old, mustachioed bailiff, Colonel Shidlovsky, had the habit of sitting in the police station until midnight; We found him and told him about our trouble.

If our guys get it now. Call Rudnikov, he's on duty!

A huge athlete appeared, with a gray mustache and fists the size of a watermelon. We told him in detail about the theft of the coat.

Our! We'll find it now... You should come with me, and let them wait. Do you recognize the coat?

Vasya stayed to wait, and we went to Khitrov to the Bunins’ house. Rudnikov called the janitor, they whispered.

Darkness. Slush. Only the windows of "Katorga" glow with red lights through the smoky glass and steam comes out of the door that opens every now and then.

We came to the courtyard of Rumyantsev’s house and straight to the second floor, to the left through the first door from the entrance.

Twenty six! - someone shouted, and everyone in the shelter began to stir.

A window opened in the far corner, and three loud blows were heard one after another, as if from a collapsing iron roof.

Hard labor is burning! - Rudnikov explained to me and shouted to the whole barracks: “Don’t be afraid, devils!” I'm alone, I won't take anyone, so I came in...

Why are you frightening in vain? - the red-haired, soldier-looking burly man, who was preparing to jump from the window onto the roof of the outbuilding, was offended.

But I’ll punch you in the face, Styopka!

For what, Fedot Ivanovich?

And because I didn’t tell you to come to me at Khitrov. Go wherever you want, but don’t let me down. They are looking for you... Second escape. I won't tolerate it!..

I’ll leave... There’s a “marukha” started! - And he winked at the girl with a black eye.

P-go! So that I don't see you! Who jumped out the window? Greengrocer? Hey, Boldokha, answer! Silence.

Who? I'm asking! Why are you silent? What am I to you - a detective, or what? Well, Greengrocer? Speak! After all, I saw his lame leg.

Boldokha is silent. Rudnikov swings his arms and slaps him severely in the face.

Rising from the floor, Boldokha says through tears:

I would have asked that right away. Otherwise it’s a bummer... Well, Greengrocer!

To hell with him! If you get it, tell him, I'll take it. To escape from here.

Let us down, devils. If they send me to look for it, I’ll take it all. Don't ask - your happiness, spend the night. That's not what I'm after. Run upstairs, tell them fools not to jump into the windows, otherwise they will kill themselves from the third floor! And I'm upstairs, is he home?

He's sleeping, come on!

We went into one of the bunkhouses on the third floor. There is the same story: the window opened, and the flashing figure disappeared into the air. Boldokha had not yet had time to warn this shelter.

I ran to the open window. The depths of the courtyard yawned below me, and some figure was creeping along the wall. Rudnikov looked down.

And this is Styopka Makhalkin! That’s why they called him Makhalkin because he’s an expert at jumping from rooftops. He?

Vaska Churkin’s brother, Pot, not Makhalkin,” a bass octave was heard from under the bunk.

Well, here he is, Makhalkin. And is this you, Lavrov? Well, get out and show yourself to the master.

This is our archdeacon,” Rudnikov said, turning to me.

A barefoot man in a dirty women's shirt with short sleeves, revealing a powerful neck and hefty shoulders, crawled out from under the bunk.

Many years to Fedot Ivanovich, many years to come! - Lavrov thundered, but when he got hit in the face, he again climbed under the bunk.

He was a cathedral choirboy and a seminarian. But this is what it has come to! Quiet you devils! - Rudnikov shouted, and we began to climb the narrow wooden stairs to the attic. The sound of “many summers” was humming below.

We got up. Dark. We stopped at the door. Rudnikov tried it and it was locked.

He rattled his fist so hard that the door shook. Silence. He knocked even harder. The door opened the width of an iron chain, and a tenant appeared, a receiver of stolen goods,

Well, what do you need? And who?

A fist is raised, a squeal is heard, the door opens.

And why are you fighting? I'm a man!

And if you are a man, where is the coat that Sashka Ponomar brought you today?

And why are you bothering me at night? They didn't bring me any coat.

So. “Get out of here, and we’ll look!” Rudnikov told me, and when the door closed behind me, screams were heard again.

Then everything went silent. Rudnikov came out and took out his coat.

Here it is! The damned devil hid it in the lowest chest and placed five more chests on top. That was Rudnikov. Sometimes there were rounds, but it was only the appearance of a search: they would surround the house where it was quieter, they would pick up “punks,” but the “big ones” were never caught.

But the police didn’t even bother going to Kulakovka.

“Kulakovka” was the name given to not just one house, but a number of houses in Kulakov’s huge property between Khitrovskaya Square and Svininsky Lane. The front house, with its narrow end facing the square, was called “Iron”. The gloomiest row of three-story stinking buildings behind it was called “Dry Ravine”, and all together - “Pig House”. It belonged to the famous collector Svinin. The lane was named after it. Hence the nicknames of the inhabitants: “irons” and “wolves of the Dry ravine”.

They pick up small children, those without passports, beggars, and those administratively deported. The next day they will be sorted: those without passports and administrative ones will be sent through the transit prison to their places of registration, to the nearest counties, and a week later they will be back in Moscow. They will arrive in a convoy to some Zaraysk, register with the police and return the same night. The beggars and money dealers will all turn out to be Muscovites or from suburban settlements, and the next day they are back on Khitrovka, going about their usual business until the next round.

And what should they do in a remote town? There is no “work”. Everyone is afraid to let them spend the night, there are no shelters, so they make their way to Moscow and live blissfully in their own way on Khitrovka. In the capital you can steal, shoot for alms, and rob a fresh homeless person; Having lured some inexperienced poor homeless man from the street or boulevard, take him into an underground corridor, slap him on the back of the head and strip him naked. Only in Moscow and living. Where else can they go with a wolf passport1: no “work” for you, no place to sleep for the night.

I studied the slums for many years and often visited the Tricky Market, made acquaintances there, they didn’t hesitate and called me “newsman.”

Many of my literary comrades asked me to take them to Khitrov and show them the slums, but no one dared to enter the “Dry Ravine” or even “Utyug”.

Let's go onto the porch and go down a few steps into the dark underground corridor.

And they ask to go back.

1 Passport with a mark that did not give the right of residence in certain places.

No other writer was so impressed by Khitrovka as Gleb Ivanovich Uspensky.

While working at Russkie Vedomosti, I often met with Gleb Ivanovich.

More than once we sat with him for a long time, both in company and alone, had dinner and spent evenings together. One day Gleb Ivanovich dined with me, and over a glass of wine the conversation turned to the slums.

Oh, how I would like to see the famous Khitrov market and these people who crossed the “Rubicon of life”. I would like to, but I'm afraid. But it would be good if we went together!

I, of course, was very happy to do this for Gleb Ivanovich, and at eight o’clock in the evening (this was in October) we drove up to Solyanka. Leaving the cab driver, we walked along a dirty square shrouded in autumn fog, through which the dim windows of taverns and the lanterns of gluttonous traders flickered.

We stopped for a minute near the traders, to whom half-naked ragamuffins ran up, bought stinking food, and certainly quarreled over a penny or a piece of extra money, and, having eaten, ran away to the shelters.

The traders, these surviving scraps of life, greasy, dirty, sat on their pots, warming the hot food with their bodies so that it would not get cold, and screamed furiously:

L-lap-sh-sha-noodles! Fresh cow jelly! Headband!

Boiled pork! “Hey, gentleman, go, I’ll cut your throat for a penny!” the woman wheezes with traces of the mistakes of her youth on her freckled face.

Throat, you say? Where is your nose?

Nose? What the hell am I doing? And she sang in a different voice:

The liver-spleen is hot! Rvaninka!

Well, let's just get to seven!

The tradeswoman rises from the pot, opens the thick greasy cover, with dirty hands pulls out the “fragment” and places it in the buyer’s palm.

Studnu for a penny! - orders a beggar in a cap with something like a cockade...

What a disaster! What a disaster!” Gleb Ivanovich whispered, watched what was happening with greedy eyes and timidly huddled closer to me.

And now, Gleb Ivanovich, let’s go to “Katorga”, then to “Peresylny”, to “Siberia”, and then we’ll go through the shelters.

Which "Katorga"?

That’s what a tavern is called in Khitrovsky jargon, and this is the one!

Having passed by the merchants, we found ourselves in front of the low door of a low tavern in Yaroshenko's house.

Should I come in?” asked Gleb Ivanovich, holding my arm.

Certainly!

I opened the door, from which foul steam and hubbub immediately poured out. Noise, swearing, fighting, clinking of dishes...

We moved towards the table, but a woman with a bloody face rushed towards us with a squeal towards the door and after her -

a hefty ragamuffin shouting:

I'll kill the damned one!

The woman managed to jump out into the street, the ragamuffin was stopped and was already lying on the floor: they “calmed him down.” It was a matter of seconds.

In the cloud of steam, no one paid attention to us. We sat down at an empty, dirty table. A familiar bartender, a future millionaire and homeowner, approached me. I ordered half a bottle of vodka and a couple of baked eggs for a snack - the only thing I demanded in the slums.

I wiped the glasses with clean paper, poured vodka, peeled the egg and clinked glasses with Gleb Ivanovich, whose hands were shaking, and his eyes expressed fear and suffering.

I drank two glasses one after another, ate an egg, and he still sat and watched.

Yes, drink!

He drank and coughed.

Let's leave here... Horror!

I made him peel the egg. We drank another glass.

Who is that there?

At the middle table, hugging a drunken girl, sat the guy who treated her, a close-cropped brunette with a broken nose.

In front of him, a hefty man with a bull's neck and a thick woman's face, barefoot, wearing a mantle like a shirt, was shouting in a thunderous bass voice, "many years to come," a former drunkard bouncer.

I explain to Gleb Ivanovich that this “lucky” one is walking around. And he keeps asking me:

We paid and left.

“Let me pass,” Gleb Ivanovich politely addressed a woman standing on all fours, wet from rain and mud, standing on the sidewalk opposite the door.

Went to... Look, it's full of ankle boots... And the hoarse and nasal woman further explained the story with the ankle boots, seasoning it with strong language. She tried to get up, but, unable to maintain her balance, she fell into a puddle. Gleb Ivanovich grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to the square, already empty and covered with puddles in which the fire of a single lantern was reflected.

And this is the pearl of creation - a woman! - Gleb Ivanovich thought out loud.

We went. A gloomy, ragged man stopped us and extended his hand for alms.

Gleb Ivanovich reached into his pocket, but I stopped his hand and, taking out a ruble note, said to the Khitrovan:

There’s no change, go to the shop, buy cigarettes for a nickel, bring the change, and I’ll give it to you for the night.

I'm running now! - the man muttered, splashed his legs through the puddles, towards one of the shops, about fifty steps from us, and disappeared into the fog.

Look, bring the cigarettes here, we’ll wait here!” I shouted after him.

Okay,” came from the fog. Gleb Ivanovich stood and laughed.

What's the matter? - I asked.

Ha ha ha, ha ha ha! So he brought the change. And even a cigarette! Ha ha ha!

It was the first time I heard such laughter from Gleb Ivanovich.

But before he had time to laugh properly, footsteps splashed through the puddles, and my messenger, panting, rose in front of us and opened a huge black hand, on which lay cigarettes, copper and sparkling silver.

Ninety change. I took the nickel for myself. Here comes Zarya, ten of them.

No, wait, what is this? Did you bring it? - asked Gleb Ivanovich.

Why not bring it? Am I going to run away with someone else’s money?

That’s what I... - the ragamuffin said confidently.

“Okay... okay,” Gleb Ivanovich muttered. I gave the copper to the ragamuffin, and wanted to take the silver and cigarettes, but Gleb Ivanovich said:

No, no, give it all to him... Everything. For his amazing honesty. After all, this...

I gave the ragamuffin all the change, and he said only one thing in surprise instead of thanks:

Weird gentlemen! What will I steal if they believe me?

Let's go to! Let's get out of here... We won't see anything better anywhere. Thank you!” Gleb Ivanovich turned to the ragamuffin, bowed to him and quickly dragged me out of the square. He refused to further inspect the shelters.

I took many of my fellow writers around the slums, and always safely. Once there was a failure, but of a very special nature. The one I'm talking about was a man of proven courage, who was not afraid of either the "Iron" or

“wolves of the Dry Ravine”, nor the “Katorga” tavern, especially since he knew real Siberian hard labor. In a word, it was none other than the famous P.

G. Zaichnevsky, who secretly made his way from his place of exile to Moscow for several days. Just the day before, Gleb Ivanovich told him about our trip, and he was all fired up. And it was fun for me to go with such a suitable comrade.

Around midnight we quickly walked along Svininsky Lane to get straight to the Utyug, where the drinking continued after the Katorga, which closed at eleven o’clock. Suddenly a soldier’s step: after us, emerging from Solyanka, a platoon of policemen was walking. We quickly went to the square, and there, from all the alleys, policemen flocked in platoons and surrounded the houses: a raid on the homeless shelters.

My companion’s hand trembled:

The devil knows... This is already worse!

Don’t be afraid, Pyotr Grigorievich, walk boldly!.. We quickly crossed the square. Podkolokolny Lane, the only one where there were no police, led us to Yauzsky Boulevard. And the iron on the roofs of the houses was already thundering. These “serious elements” climbed out through the attics onto the roof and laid them in layers near the pipes, knowing that the police would not get in there...

The next day, Pyotr Grigorievich laughed in our company, telling how crowds of policemen frightened him. However, it was no laughing matter: instead of Kulakov’s “Katorga,” he risked ending up in Nerchinsk again!

It’s dangerous to walk into “Kulakovka” even during the day; the corridors are dark as at night.

I remember once walking through the underground corridor of the “Dry Ravine”, striking a match and seeing horror! - the head of a living person emerges from a stone wall, from a smooth stone wall. I stopped, and my head screamed:

Put out the match, devil! Look, they're wandering around!

My companion blew out the match in my hand and dragged me further, while my head still muttered something after me.

This is a disguised entrance to an underground hiding place, where not only the police -

The devil himself won't help.

In the eighties, I witnessed such a scene in Romeiko’s house.

One summer day, at about three o’clock, I went into “Katorga”. The revelry was already in full swing. I’m sitting with the role copyist Kirin. There are, of course, "cats" all around

"maruhami". Suddenly a “cat” flies into the door and yells:

Hey you green legs! Twenty six! Everyone was wary and sharpened their skis, but they were waiting for an explanation.

In "Iron" someone was killed. They ran after the police...

Look, they're freaking out here!

The first to run out was a hefty brunette. The back of his head could be seen from under the pulled-down hat, the right half of which was overgrown with hair much shorter than the left.

In those days, convicts still had their heads shaved, and I realized that he had to hurry.

Another person ran out from the heels, leaving the “marukh” to pay for the treat.

I became interested and rushed to Romeiko’s house, through the door from the square. In a second-floor apartment, among the crowd, a man was lying face down in a pool of blood, wearing only a shirt, wearing patent leather boots with accordion tops. From the back, under the left shoulder blade, a knife stuck in close was sticking out. I have never seen such knives: from those

sticking out was a large, bizarrely shaped, shiny copper handle.

The one killed was a "cat". A murderer is an avenger for a woman. They never found him, they knew, but they didn’t say, they said:

"good man".

While I was collecting the information necessary for the newspaper, the police, the bailiff and the local doctor, the common favorite of D.P. Kuvshinnikov, showed up.

A deft blow! “Right to the heart,” he determined. They began to write a protocol.

I went up to the table and talked with D.P. Kuvshinnikov, whom Anton Pavlovich Chekhov introduced me to.

Where's the knife? Where's the knife? The police began to fuss.

I saw him myself this minute. I saw it myself!” shouted the bailiff.

After considerable searching, the knife was found: during the commotion, one of those present pulled it out and pawned it for half a bottle in a nearby tavern.

Cleaner than the others was Bunin's house, where the entrance was not from the square, but from an alley.

Many permanent Khitrovans lived here, subsisting on day jobs such as chopping wood and clearing snow, and women went to wash floors, clean, and do laundry as day laborers.

Here lived professional beggars and various artisans who had completely become slums. More tailors, they were called “crayfish” because they, naked, having drunk their last shirt, never came out of their holes.

They worked day and night, altering rags for the market, always hungover, in rags, barefoot.

And the earnings were often good. Suddenly at midnight they burst into the "crayfish"

apartment thieves with knots. They'll wake you up.

Hey, get up guys, get to work! - shouts the awakened tenant.

Expensive fur coats, fox rotundas and a mountain of different dresses are taken out of the bundles.

Now the cutting and sewing begins, and in the morning the traders come and carry armfuls of fur hats, vests, caps, and trousers to the market.

The police are looking for fur coats and rotundas, but they are no longer there: instead of them there are hats and caps.

The main share, of course, goes to the tenant, because he is the buyer of stolen goods, and often the chieftain of the gang.

But the largest and most constant income came from renting

wine trade for traders. Each apartment is a tavern. In the walls, under the floor, in the thick legs of the tables - everywhere there were warehouses of wine, diluted with water, for their overnight shelters and for their guests. Undiluted vodka could be obtained in taverns and taverns during the day, and at night he sold vodka in a sealed “hose” container.

In the depths of the Bunin yard there was also a “hose pipe”. The yard was then illuminated by one dim kerosene lantern. The dirt on the windows did not let in any light, and only one “hose-hole” window, with a white curtain, was lighter than the others.

Anyone who needs it comes up to the window and knocks. The window opens. A hand sticks out from behind the curtain, palm up. The person who arrives silently places a fifty-kopeck piece in his hand.

The hand disappears and a minute later appears again with a bottle of Smirnovka, and the window slams shut. It's one thing - no words. The silence in the yard is complete.

Only from the square are drunken songs and shouts of “guard” heard, But no one will come to the rescue. They will strip you, take them off and let you in naked. Every now and then, in the alleys and in the square itself, the corpses of those killed and robbed naked were raised. The dead were sent to the Myasnitskaya unit for a forensic autopsy, and sometimes to the university.

I remember once I went to the anatomical theater to see Professor I. I. Neiding and found him giving a lecture to students. On the table lay a corpse raised at the Khitrovo market. After examining the corpse, I. I. Neiding said:

There are no signs of violent death. Suddenly, from the crowd of students, the old watchman at the anatomical theater, the famous Volkov, emerged, who often helped the students dissect, which he did with remarkable skill.

“Ivan Ivanovich,” he said, “what are you talking about, there are no signs!” Look, they poured some “ligamentum-nuha” on him! - He turned the corpse and pointed out the fracture of the cervical vertebra. - No, Ivan Ivanovich, there was no case when people were sent from Khitrovka who were not killed.

There were many orphans born on Khitrovka. Here is one of the scenes from the eighties.

On a foggy autumn night in the courtyard of the Bunin house, people walking to the “hose hole” heard groans from the garbage heap. We saw a woman giving birth to a child.

Children in Khitrovka were at a premium: they were rented out from infancy, almost at auction, to the poor. And the dirty woman, often with traces of a terrible illness, took the unfortunate child, stuck a pacifier made of a dirty rag with chewed bread in his mouth, and dragged him out into the cold street. The child, wet and dirty all day, lay in her arms, poisoned by the pacifier, and moaned from cold, hunger and constant pain in the stomach, causing sympathy from passersby to

"the poor mother of the unfortunate orphan." There were cases when a child died in the morning in the arms of a beggar, and she, not wanting to waste the day, went with him until nightfall for alms. Two-year-olds were led by the hand, and three-year-olds were already accustomed to

"fire".

In the last week of Lent, a “crycaster” infant walked on a quarter a day, and a three-year-old on a ten-kopeck piece. The five-year-olds ran around on their own and brought their boys, mothers, uncles and aunties “for the drink of their souls” a ten-kopeck piece, or even a five-kopeck piece. The older the children became, the more their parents demanded from them and the less passers-by gave them.

Begging, children had to take off their shoes in winter and give them to the guard around the corner, and they themselves had to rush barefoot through the snow near the exits of taverns and restaurants. I had to get money by all means so that when I returned home without two kopecks I wouldn’t be beaten. The boys, in addition, stood “on guard” when adults stole, and at the same time they themselves learned “work” from the adults.

It happened that tramps born on Khitrovka lived there until gray hair, disappearing temporarily to serve time in prison or distant exile. They are boys.

The girls' situation was even worse.

There was only one thing left for them to do: sell themselves to drunken debauchees. Ten-year-old drunken prostitutes were not uncommon.

They huddled more in the "trailer". It was a tiny one-story outbuilding in the depths of Rumyantsev's property. In the first half of the eighties, a beauty named “Princess” appeared there and lived for a long time. She disappeared from Khitrovka for some time, ending up either in detention or in a “posh” brothel for her beauty, but each time she returned to

"trailer" and drank all her savings. In "Katorga" she sang French chansonettes and danced the then fashionable cachucha dance.

Among her “suitors” was Styopka Makhalkin, brother the famous Guslitsky robber Vaska Churkin, glorified even in the novel named after him.

But Styopka Makhalkin was purer than his brother and contemptuously called him:

Vaska? Kestrel! Tailwort! One day the police arrested Stepka and sent him to a transit center, where he was shackled. The caretaker suggested to him:

If you want, I’ll take off the shackles, just give me your word not to run.

Your job is to hold, but our job is to run! But I won’t give you a word. Our word is strong, and I have already given one word.

Soon he escaped from prison by climbing over the wall.

And straight - to the “carriage”, to the “princess”, to whom he gave his word that he would come. There was a scene of jealousy. Makhalkin beat the “princess” to a pulp. She was sent to the Pavlovsk hospital, where she died from beatings.

In the Moscow address book for 1826, the list of homeowners includes:

"Svinin, Pavel Petrovich, State Councilor, on Pevchesky Lane, building No.

24, Myasnitskaya part, on the corner of Solyanka."

Svinin was sung by Pushkin: “Here comes Svinin, the Russian Beetle.” Svinin was a famous person: a writer, collector and museum owner. Subsequently, the city renamed Pevchesky Lane to Svininsky1.

On the other corner of Pevchesky Lane, which then overlooked a huge, overgrown wasteland crossed by ravines, a permanent hangout for vagabonds, nicknamed the “free place”, stood like a fortress surrounded by a fence. big house with the services of Major General Nikolai Petrovich Khitrov, the owner of the empty "free

1 Now Astakhovsky.

hundred" right up to the present-day Yauzsky and Pokrovsky boulevards, which then still bore the same name: "boulevard White City". On this boulevard, as it was listed in the same address book, there was another house of Major General Khitrov,

No. 39. He himself lived here, and in house No. 24, in a “free place,” his servants lived, there were stables, cellars and basements. In this huge property, the Khitrov market was formed, named after the owner of this wild estate.

In 1839, Svinin died, and his vast estate and lordly chambers passed to the Rastorguev merchants, who owned them until October revolution.

The house of General Khitrov was purchased by the Orphanage for the apartments of its officials and resold it in the second half of the last century to the engineer Romeiko, and the wasteland, still inhabited by vagabonds, was bought by the city for the market. The house required expensive repairs. His entourage did not cause any hunters to rent apartments in such dangerous place, and Romeiko let him stay as a lodging house: both profitably and without any expenses.

The terrible slums of Khitrovka have terrified Muscovites for decades.

For decades, the press, the Duma, and the administration, right up to the Governor General, took measures in vain to destroy this den of banditry.

On the one hand, near Khitrovka, there is the trading Solyanka with the Guardian Council, on the other, Pokrovsky Boulevard and the adjacent alleys were occupied by the richest mansions of Russian and foreign merchants. Here are Savva Morozov, and the Korzinkins, and the Khlebnikovs, and the Olovyanishnikovs, and the Rastorguevs, and the Bakhrushins... The owners of these palaces were indignant at the terrible neighborhood, used all measures to destroy it, but neither the speeches that thundered to please them at the meetings of the Duma, nor The administration couldn't do anything with the costly efforts. There were some secret springs that squeezed out all their attacking forces -

and nothing came of it. Now one of the Khitrovsky homeowners has a hand in the Duma, now another has a friend in the office of the Governor-General, the third himself occupies an important position in charitable affairs.

And only the Soviet government, with one resolution of the Moscow City Council, brushed away this ulcer, which was incurable under the old system, and in one week in 1923 cleared the entire square with the centuries-old dens surrounding it, and in a few months finished it off with clean apartments recent slums and populated them with workers and office people. The very main slum “Kulakovka” with its underground dens in the “Dry Ravine” on Svininsky Lane and the huge “Iron” was razed to the ground and rebuilt. All the same houses, but clean on the outside... There are no windows stuffed with paper or rags, or simply broken windows from which steam is pouring out and a drunken rumble is rushing... Here is Orlov's house - apartments for professional beggars and a place to sleep for newcomers, still looking for daily work ... Nearby are the huge houses of Rumyantsev, in which there were two taverns - “Peresylny” and “Sibir”, and then, in Stepanov’s house, the “Katorga” tavern, which once belonged to the famous harborer of fugitives and robbers Mark Afanasyev, and then became the property of to his clerk Kulakov, who made a fortune in the place occupied by his old master.

And in “Katorga” there is now no door from which steam poured out when it opened and wild songs, the clink of dishes and the screams of stabbings were heard. Next to it, the Bunins' house also now sparkles with windows... There are no thousands of ragged people crowding the square, no merchant women sitting on grub, dirty and smelling of rotten herring and decaying broth and tripe. People are walking decorously, children are playing... And just recently the square was bustling with crowds of ragged people around the clock. In the evening, drunken people with their “marukhs” rushed about and made a noise. Seeing nothing in front of them, cocaine addicts of both sexes and all ages staggered around, snorting the marafet. Among them were teenage girls born and raised here and half-naked “bad boys” - their gentlemen.

“Ogoltsy” appeared at the bazaars, attacked the traders in a crowd and, knocking over a tray with goods, or even breaking a tent, snatched up the goods and disappeared in all directions.

A step higher were the “train drivers”, their job was to snatch sacks and suitcases from the top of the carriage on boulevard passages, in back alleys and in dark station squares... Behind them were the “fortachi”, dexterous and flexible guys who knew how to climb through the window, and “ shirmachi", bes-

noisily crawling through the pockets of a man in a buttoned coat, jamming him up and burying him in the crowd. And all over the square - beggars, beggars... And at night, "business guys" crawled out of the dungeons of the "Dry Ravine" with crowbars and revolvers... There were also "tailor workers" jostling about, who did not disdain to rip off the hat from a passerby or from their own The beggar is tricked to take away his bag with a piece of bread.

Sometimes there were terrible nights in this square, where drunken songs, the shrieks of beaten “marukhs” and cries of “guard” merged. But no one risked going to help: they would let him in naked and barefoot, and even beat him for not going where he shouldn’t go.

The police box was always silent at night - as if it didn’t exist. It was governed for more than twenty years by the mayor Rudnikov, who has already been described. Rudnikov was not interested in the night's hopeless cries for help and did not unlock the door to the booth.

Once upon a time there was such a case. An employee got mixed up in a drunken case on Khitrovka

"Entertainment" Epifanov, who decided to study the slums. They stripped him naked in the square. He's in the booth. It knocks, it rattles, the “guard” shouts. And so he returned home naked. The next day, having come to the “Entertainment” to ask for an advance payment on the occasion of a robbery, he told the end of his journey: a huge watchman, barefoot and in only his underwear, to whom he called himself a nobleman, jumped out of the booth, turned his back to himself and barked: “Every bastard will disturb you at night!" - and kicked so hard - thanks for being still barefoot - that Epifanov flew far into a puddle...

Rudnikov was not afraid of anyone or anything. Even Kulakov himself, with his millions, whom the entire police were afraid of, because “the Governor General shook hands with Ivan Petrovich,” was nothing for Rudnikov. He directly came to him for the holiday and, having received a hundred from him, thundered:

Vanka, are you kidding me or what? Al forgot? A?..

Kulakov, who was receiving congratulators in his home on Svininsky Lane, in a uniform with orders, remembered something, trembled and babbled:

Oh, sorry, dear Fedot Ivanovich. And he gave three hundred.

Neither Rudnikov nor his booth have been around for a long time.

The houses of the Khitrovsky market were divided into apartments - either one large one, or two or three rooms, with bunks, sometimes two-story ones, where homeless people without distinction of gender and age spent the night. In the corner of the room there is a closet made of thin boards, or just a chintz curtain, behind which the owner and his wife sit.

This is always some kind of “pass the light” retired soldier or peasant, but always with a “clean” passport, since otherwise it is impossible to obtain the right to be a renter of an apartment. The tenant was never alone, always alone with his wife and never with his legal wife. Tenants left their legal wives in the village, and here they took cohabitants, natives of Khitrovka, often without passports...

Each tenant has his own audience: some have robbers, some have thieves, some

"brown trash", who just have poor brethren.

Where there are beggars, there are children - future convicts. Anyone who was born on Khitrovka and managed to grow up in this terrible situation will end up in prison.

Exceptions are rare.

The most well-intentioned element of Khitrovka are the beggars. Many of them were born and raised here; and if, due to their wretchedness and worthlessness, they did not become thieves and robbers, but remained beggars, then now they will not exchange their craft for anything.

These are not the beggars who accidentally lost their means of living, whom we saw on the streets: these will barely get enough for a piece of bread or a place to stay for the night. The beggars of Khitrovka were of a different kind.

After a drunken night, such an intimidating uncle crawls out from under the bunk, asks the tenant for a glass of fusel wine on credit, puts on a wanderer's cassock, slings a satchel full of rags over his shoulders, puts a scooper on his head and walks barefoot, sometimes even in winter, through the snow, to prove his holiness. for the collection.

And what kind of lies will such a “wanderer” lie to the shady merchants, what will he foist on them to save their souls! Here is a sliver from the Holy Sepulcher, and a piece of the ladder that forefather Jacob saw in a dream, and a pin from the chariot of Elijah the Prophet that fell from the sky.

There were beggars who collected from shops, taverns and shopping arcades. Their

"service" - from ten in the morning to five in the evening. This group and another, called "with a handle", prowling churches, are the most numerous. In the last one there are women with borrowed babies, or even just with a log wrapped in a rag, which they tenderly cradle, asking for a poor orphan. There are real and fake blind and wretched people here.

And here are the aristocrats. They lived partly in Orlov's house, partly in Bunin's house. Among them were officials, officers expelled from service, and defrocked priests.

They worked collectively, dividing Moscow houses into queues. In front of them is the address-calendar of Moscow. An aristocratic beggar takes, for example, the right side of Prechistenka with its alleys and writes twenty tearful letters, without letting anyone through, to twenty houses, worth attention. Having sent the letter, the next day it goes to the addresses. The bell rings on the front porch: an aristocratic figure, a rented suit, decent. When asked by the doorman, he says:

Yesterday a letter was sent by city mail, so they are waiting for a response.

They bring out a bag, and in it there is a piece of paper worth a ruble or more.

In the outbuilding of Yaroshenko’s house, apartment No. 27 was called “pisucha” and was considered the most aristocratic and modest in all of Khitrovka. In the eighties, even a “prince and princess” lived here, a blind old man with a toothless old woman to whom he dictated, sometimes in French, letters to benefactors, his old acquaintances, and sometimes received quite large handouts, with which he fed hungry copyists. Did they call him "Your Excellency?" and treated him with respect. His last name was Lvov, according to documents he was simply listed as a nobleman, he did not have any princely title; The scribes made him a prince, and then the rest of Khitrovka.

He and his wife were heavy drinkers, but when they were sober, they behaved very importantly and looked very presentable, although the “prince” was wearing old rags, and the “princess” was wearing old clothes.

burnous, covered with multi-colored patches.

One day, relatives came to them from somewhere on the Volga and took them away, to the extreme regret of the census takers and beggar neighbors.

There also lived there a bitter drunkard, a state councilor, a former justice of the peace, for which the Khitrov residents, who had once tried with him more than once, nicknamed him

“chain”, hinting that judges wore a gilded chain around their necks when performing judicial duties.

Next to him, sleeping on a bunk, was his friend Dobronravov, who had once shown great promise as a writer. He published novels and harsh accusatory feuilletons in small newspapers. For one of the feuilletons about factory owners, he was expelled from Moscow at the request of these manufacturers. Dobronravov kept with him, like a relic, a newspaper clipping pasted onto his folder, where the feuilleton that killed him was published under the title “Raeshnik”. He lived somewhere in a provincial town in the deep north for several years, came to Moscow to Khitrov and settled in this apartment forever. He looked very respectable and in moments of sobriety he spoke in such a way that one could listen to him.

"...Come here, look at this. The merchant's policy is cunning. Not a smart guy, not a dandy, but a million-dollar manufacturer, a drinker, a walker, eager for hard labor, for a worker. He looks like an avant-garde, he brought out a five-story building, weaving, scurrying and shaking , thousands of people work for him alone. And the people are factory workers, accustomed to any misfortune, bones and skin, and a worn-out face. Bad food and torn clothes. And the belly and sides of the working boy are failing.

Heartfelt!

And careless directors walk around the factory, they don’t allow you to buy food on the side: for example, if you want onions, send your son to pick up a book in the factory shops, there, they say, without a premium!

Cheap and rotten!

And if your gut speaks, it’s not his fault, you see, it demands wine, it’s also tobacco, again run to the factory tavern, drink the owner’s, you’ll be stingier at another. But the thing is not wise, they will lend you even half a bucket.

But in the city the owner seems to be a count, a fine is to his benefit, and profits and provisions are all around, which means I’m in the rudder. And there is interest on goods, no matter where you look, everything is a dividend. We won’t miss ours anywhere, this “Peter Kirillov” is everywhere

let's launch. It couldn't be better!"

Next to the "pisuha" flophouse there was an apartment "podshibal". In the old days, printers made a lot of money from scrapping. Moreover, they said that they were doing a good deed: “Where can he go, naked and barefoot! Whatever you give him, he’ll drink it all away!”

Destruction of the "Pig House", or "Iron", and with it all the outbuildings

"Kulakovka" began from the first days of the revolution. In 1917, the Utyug shelters

everyone, as one, flatly refused to pay the apartment tenants for overnight accommodation, and the tenants, seeing that there was no one to complain to, abandoned everything and fled to their villages. Then the shelters first of all broke down the tenants' closets, lifted the floor boards, where they found entire warehouses of bottles of vodka, and then heated the very walls of the closets in the stoves. Institutions came for the shelters and everything made of wood, up to the roof bars, was also taken away for firewood. The most rabid people continued to huddle in houses without roofs, windows and doors. However, the underground caches continued to remain untouched. The “business people” still went out for luck at night. "Tailormen" - during the day and at dusk. The first made raids far from their “khaza”, the second robbed in the dark drunks and loners and their own beggars who appeared in the evening on Khitrovskaya Square, and then plundered the shops on Old Square.

It was a hungry time civil war, when there was no time for Khitrovka.

It was risky to walk along Solyanka with bundles and bags even during the day, especially for women: hooligans would swoop in, snatch the bundles from their hands and rush to Svininsky Lane, where, before the eyes of their pursuers, they would disappear into silent piles of bricks. The pursuers stopped in amazement - and suddenly bricks flew at them. It is unknown where it came from... One, another... Sometimes those passing by saw smoke curling from the garbage.

The irons are cooking porridge!

In the evenings shadows flickered. People with teapots and buckets went to the river and returned quietly: they carried water.

But the time has come - and the Moscow Council liquidated the Khitrov market in a few hours.

Quite unexpectedly, the entire market was surrounded by police, stationed in all alleys and at the gates of every house. Everyone was released from the market - no one was allowed into the market. The residents were warned in advance about the upcoming eviction, but none of them even thought of leaving their “khazy”.

The police, having surrounded the houses, offered to move out immediately, warning that the exit was free, no one would be detained, and gave a period of several hours after which “measures will be taken.” Only some of the disabled beggars were left in one of the outbuildings of Rumyantsevka...

Vladimir Gilyarovsky - Moscow and Muscovites - KHITROVKA, read the text

Celebrities

Unlike the “thieves’” Maryina Roshcha, Khitrovka was also a bohemian area. Artists, musicians and writers settled in its apartment buildings. Khirovka is reflected in the works of Gilyarovsky in the book “Moscow and Muscovites”, Akunin, Gorky. It was studied by the artist Simov. At the beginning of the 20th century, people came to one of the tenement houses of Khitrovka to study the habits and life of the Moscow bottom K.S. Stanislavsky and V.I. Nemirovich-Danchenko before the production of Maxim Gorky's play "At the Depths". Many even believed that the play itself was written under the impression of his acquaintance with Khitrovka. But this is not so: the writer drew inspiration from the Nizhny Novgorod slums. On Khitrovka, in a hospital for the poor, the artist A.K. died in complete poverty. Savrasov.

L. Tolstoy, G. Uspensky, T. Shchepkina-Kupernik were here. The lodging houses owned by Yaroshenko, Bunin, Kulakov, and Rumyantsev overlooked Khitrovskaya Square. In the vicinity of Khitrovka there was also a studio of his student, Isaac Levitan, where the entire elite of that time visited. News journalist Gilyarovsky knew the mores of the streets. Here is what he writes: “Khitrovka was a gloomy sight in the last century. There was no lighting in the maze of corridors and passages, on the crooked, dilapidated staircases leading to the dorms on all floors. He will find his way, but there is no need for someone else to interfere here! And indeed, no government dared to venture into these dark abysses...”

“Khitrovsk ‘gourmets’ love to feast on leftovers. “But it was a hazel grouse!” - some “former” savors. And who is simpler - eats stewed potatoes with rancid lard, cheek, throat, lung and cow's tripe wrapped in a roll with unwashed greens from the contents of the stomach - tripe, which is called “hazel grouse” here. “The two- and three-story houses around the square are all full of such shelters, in which up to ten thousand people slept and huddled. These houses brought huge profits to homeowners. Each rooming house paid a nickel per night, and the “rooms” cost two kopecks. Under the lower bunks, raised an arshin from the floor, there were lairs for two; they were separated by a hanging mat. The space an arshin in height and one and a half arshin in width between two mattings is the “number” where people spent the night without any bedding except their own rags...”

Taverns

Gilyarovsky found himself in the darkest period in the fate of this area on the territory of the White City. IN former house Khitrovo organized a hospital for the inhabitants of Khitrovo. In the Rumyantsev house there is a shelter and two taverns: “Peresylny” and “Sibir”, and in Yaroshenko’s house there is “Katorga”. These are the unofficial names of the Khitrovans. In “Peresylny” there were beggars, homeless people and horse dealers. “Siberia” is for pickpockets, thieves, large buyers of stolen goods; in “Katorga” there are thieves and escaped convicts. Those returning from prison always came to Khitrovka, where they were greeted with honor and given a job.

Iron

In the corner of Petropavlovsky and Pevchesky (Svininsky) lanes there is a house called Utyug. The owner was Kulakov, the buildings between the square and Svininsky Lane were called Kulakovka. Today, all that remains of the building are the basements and part of the first floor, and the rest has been rebuilt.

Decline of the post-revolution

After the revolution, Utyug and Kulakovka fell into disrepair. The overnight stayers, in the spirit of the revolution, refused to pay for their overnight stay. The owners, unable to find anyone to complain to, abandoned their enterprise. Crime has increased in Khitrovka. In the 1920s, the Moscow City Council demolished the Khitrov Market, and on March 27, 1928, a park was laid out on the square. The lodging houses were transformed into housing associations. In 1935, Khitrovsky Square and Lane were renamed in honor of Gorky (the historical names returned in 1994).

Surviving landmarks

Maroseyka, 5 - St. Nicholas Church in Klenniki (Blinniki) 1657. Go down Bolshoi Spasoglinishchevsky Lane, you can see the Moscow Choral Synagogue (architect Eibushitz). Further along Maroseyka, the Church of Kosma and Damian, was built in 1793 instead ancient church. Opposite is the blue palace (architect Bazhenov) of Colonel Khlebnikov. The next owner was the hero of the Russian-Turkish war P.A. Rumyantsev-Zadunaisky, then his son Nikolai. And now on the gate of the house you can see the inscription “Free from standing.” When the merchants Grachevs became the owners of the house, they contributed a significant amount to the construction of military barracks in Moscow, and for this they were exempted from mandatory military billeting. At the beginning of Starosadsky Lane in Khitrovka there is the Lutheran Church of Peter and Paul, 1906-1907.

At the opposite end of the lane is the Ivanovsky Monastery, which was initially located on the street. Pyatnitskaya, and transferred to Starosadsky in the 1530s. Daria Saltykova “Saltychikha” served her sentence within the walls of the monastery. The illegitimate daughter of Empress Elizabeth and Alexei Razumovsky, known as Princess Tarakanova, took monastic vows under the name Dosifei.

In Starosadskoe there is the Church of St. Vladimir 1423. Pokrovka is also part of Khitrovka. On the left side, stretching 70 meters, was a building that belonged to a relative of the royal family, V.F. Naryshkin. Here are the stone chambers of Mazepa, and the chambers of clerk Ukraintsev, a figure of the 17th century, cat. was the head of the embassy order of Peter I. In some places, the width of the street did not exceed 10 meters; during the day there was no crowding. Everything was buried in mud because of the rains, the Rachka River and the Chistye (then Pogany) Pond. Evidence of such a deplorable state of the streets is an anonymous (anonymous) letter addressed to Menshikov: “The streets are being paved without removing the old linings and without cleaning out the dirt... and many logs are being stolen from bridges into meager houses... Along the streets from many courtyards they are building huts and every courtyard building, and with that building they give the people out onto the streets, and that’s why the streets are crowded. From the courtyards, all kinds of stingy droppings, dogs and chickens and cats and other carrion, are thrown along the streets, and from this droppings in the summer there are all sorts of spirits and worms of the birth, because of the disease, and especially the gap from foreigners.”

Up Khokhlovsky Lane is the Church of the Life-Giving Trinity in Khokhlov. As a result of the unification of Russia and Ukraine (in 1654), a settlement of Ukrainians and crests arose in Moscow. In Podkopayevsky Lane, Khitrovka, the Church of St. Nicholas in Podkopay. At the intersection of Solyanka and Podkolokolny Lane, the Church of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary on Strelka (on Kulishki) 1460. On Varvarskaya (now Slavyanskaya Square), not far from the station. metro station "Kitay-Gorod", in Zaryadye the Church of the Three Saints on Kulishki.

House No. 1 in Bolshoy Trekhsvyatitelsky Lane, in 1892-1900 there was a studio of the artist I. Levitan, Chaliapin and Nesterov often came, and Serov painted a portrait of Levitan. The pearl of Khitrovka is the Church of Peter and Paul at the Yauz Gate in Petropavlovsky Lane, which was never closed, and all its bells survived. In October 2008, Khitrovskaya Square and five adjacent blocks were awarded the status of a “remarkable place” by experts from the Historical and Cultural Committee for Cultural Heritage. This status is enshrined in the law on cultural heritage, and provides restrictions on holding construction work and transformations.

Nearest to Khitrovki station. metro Kitay-Gorod and Kurskaya. The area, known in Moscow from the 19th to the beginning of the 20th century as Khitrovka, is located between Pokrovsky Boulevard and Solyanka Street.

Although Moscow Khitrovka is no longer at all what it was in the second half of the 19th century, its name remains a household name. Of course, no one thought to sing about her, but stories about her occupy a prominent place in the works of Vladimir Gilyarovsky and Maxim Gorky. Apparently, having thoroughly studied the books “Moscow and Muscovites” and “Slum People,” Boris Akunin repeatedly transferred the actions of his cycle about Erast Fandorin to Khitrovka. And Alexander Roznenbaum, if you believe his song, is waiting there for the above-mentioned Gilyarovsky.

I started the excursion to Khitrovka from Slavyanskaya Square (Kitay-Gorod metro station, exit to Solyansky Proezd). Yes, yes, in the past, a slum and incredibly crime-prone area was literally a quarter of an hour’s walk from the Kremlin.
On the south side of the square you can see the Church of All Saints (All Saints) on Kulishki. There are several hypotheses regarding its origin. According to one of them, a wooden church on this site was built by Grand Duke Dmitry Donskoy (ruled 1359–1389) in 1380 in memory of those who fell in the Battle of Kulikovo. Meanwhile, historians sometimes call more early date The birth of the church is 1367 and they connect the construction of the temple with the period of settlement of this area, which at that time was adjacent to the Moscow suburb. It is generally accepted that in the 14th century this area was very swampy and unattractive in the eyes of the townspeople.
One of the interpretations of the word “kulishki” defines it as a marshy swampy place. There is also a legend that once upon a time there was indeed a swamp here where waders lived. Perhaps this is where the name of this area of the city came from. Other researchers believe that at the dawn of Moscow history there was a dense forest here, and therefore the word “kulishki” can mean cleared areas among the forest. By the way, one of the local churches in the name of John the Baptist was then called “under the forest.” In the 15th century, this forest was replaced by the luxurious Sovereign Gardens, which left a memory in the name of Starosadsky Lane adjacent to Kulishki.
There is also an opinion that the name of the area comes from the word “kulki” (purses). The fact is that the neighboring section of the city, now known as the Yauz Gate, was called Koshely in the old days. This pre-revolutionary version of historians gained the right to exist also because Solyanka was formerly called Yauza Street (now this is the name of the section that continues Solyanka to Kotelniki across the Yauza River). Solyanka began to be called from the state-owned salt warehouse located here. By the way, Slavyanskaya Square adjacent to the All Saints Church was also formerly called Solyanaya, and then Varvarskaya. It received its modern name not so long ago, when a monument to Saints Cyril and Methodius, who laid the foundation for Slavic writing, was erected opposite the church.
The most unconvincing, but historically justified version of the meaning of the word “kulishki” dates its origin to the times of Dmitry Donskoy and the Battle of Kulikovo. Some believe that the name of the city district came from this battle, since the prince walked here twice with his army: going from the Kremlin to the battle and returning to Moscow with victory. Then he allegedly ordered a wooden church to be founded here in the name of All Saints in memory of the fallen Russian soldiers and to call this area Kulishki in honor of the deceased great battle. But here it is worth noting that the All Saints Church is by no means the only Moscow church erected in memory of the Battle of Kulikovo and in gratitude for the victory. The Cathedral of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary of the Nativity Monastery was also erected, and a church of the same name with a chapel of St. Lazarus was built in the Kremlin.
The Kulishki area has been reliably known since the 14th century, but it began to be developed long before the Battle of Kulikovo. Then it was already adjacent to the Moscow suburb, which extended from east wall Kremlin and Red Square. Hence the opinion of historians that the first church stood here since ancient times, when the first settlements had just appeared in Kulishki. For a few local residents it could have been an ordinary parish church. Therefore, it is very likely that in 1380, Prince Dmitry Donskoy ordered its reconstruction as a monument temple in honor of the victory and the fallen soldiers.
However, the current appearance of the All Saints Church was formed much later, already in the 16th–17th centuries. The temple was badly damaged in 1612 during the liberation of Moscow from Polish invaders, since next to it there was artillery battery people's militia. The church was rebuilt again in 1687, in particular, it was then that the bell tower and chapels were built. The church was renovated several times in subsequent times. Nevertheless, throughout its history it continued to remain an ordinary Moscow parish church.
The church played the most noticeable and dramatic role in its long history during the Plague Riot of 1771. In ancient times it was she who owned the famous chapel of the miraculous Bogolyubsk Icon Mother of God, which was placed on the Varvarskaya Tower of the Kitay-Gorod wall. By the way, even now the remains of the foundation of this tower can still be seen in the underground passage connecting Slavyanskaya Square with Varvarka.
When an epidemic of the plague, which was not uncommon in those years, struck the city, one Muscovite had a dream that the disease was sent for insufficient veneration of the Bogolyubsk Icon. He sat down at the gate and began collecting money for a “world candle,” telling everyone about his vision. Apparently, the priest of All Saints Church began talking about the same thing with him. As a result, people rushed to the Barbarian Gate, climbing up the stairs to venerate the image. Crowds of people and kissing the icon during the epidemic only accelerated the spread of the disease. When the enlightened Archbishop of Moscow Ambrose decided to remove the icon to the church and sealed the donation mugs, a riot of panicked fanatics, supported by riot lovers, began. The archbishop was killed in the Donskoy Monastery, where he was trying to hide from an angry crowd, and for two days the city plunged into the abyss of anarchy. The dark commoners transferred part of their anger to foreigners, especially doctors. The rioters, of course, were pacified, but September 16, 1771 became a tragic page in the history of the city.
The Church of All Saints has not shown itself to be anything else. During Soviet times it was closed, but, fortunately, it was not destroyed, but was transferred to various institutions. In the 90s of the 20th century, after restoration, the temple became operational again. By the way, during the history of its existence, the church sunk about three and a half meters into the ground, and its bell tower acquired a slight slope.
In the background of the photo you can see the perspective of ancient Varvarka, decorated with many old churches. I won’t talk about them within the framework of this album, since I’ve already overloaded the text quite a bit. It’s time to head to the immediate destination of the walk – Khitrovka.

The road to Khitrovka is simple: from Slavyanskaya Square you should first walk a block along Solyansky Passage, then turn right onto Solyanka. Having reached the intersection with Podkolokolny Lane, you should turn into the latter. Here you can clearly see the indicated intersection: Solyanka passes to the right, and the lane goes to the left. At the place where they fork, there is the Church of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary on Kulishki (or on Strelka).
The church first appeared here around 1460, but it was originally made of wood. In the 14th century, there was a fork in the roads to Zayauzye (now Solyanka Street) and the village of Vorontsovo (Podkolokolny Lane passes in its place), where in 1484 the Prince of All Rus' Ivan III (ruled 1462–1505) built a country courtyard.
The church, like most Moscow churches, became a stone church in the 17th century. The existing building was built after 1773. In 1800–1802, a refectory and a four-tier bell tower were added to it. The author of this project is considered to be D. Balashov, although other sources name Dmitry Bazhenov (brother famous architect Vasily Ivanovich Bazhenov).
The temple was rebuilt and updated several times after the fire of 1812. Now it is covered in scaffolding - restoration is underway. Although the building has the shape of an equilateral cross, the mentioned refectory was built in a triangular plan with rounded corners, which was most likely caused by the need to design the facades of both the street and the alley. I read that the architectural appearance of the church embodied the transition from late Baroque to early classicism.

I considered the massive building with burnt-out windows on the third floor to be the first harbinger of approaching Khitrovka. :)
It is worth telling how this slum area came into being, which has terrified Moscow residents for more than half a century. Until the second third of the 19th century, the area east of Kitai-Gorod, although not completely respectable, was nevertheless considered relatively decent. The transformation did not happen instantly, but it was unexpected for the city authorities. This is what Vladimir Gilyarovsky wrote about this.
In the Moscow address book for 1826, the list of homeowners says: “Svinin, Pavel Petrovich, State Councilor, on Pevchesky Lane, house No. 24, Myasnitskaya part, on the corner of Solyanka.” Svinin was sung by Pushkin: “Here comes Svinin, the Russian Beetle.” Svinin was a famous person: a writer, collector and museum owner. Subsequently, the city renamed Pevchesky Lane to Svininsky(now he goes back to his original name) .
On the other corner of Pevchesky Lane, which then overlooked a huge, overgrown wasteland crossed by ravines, a permanent hangout for vagabonds, nicknamed the “free place”, like a fortress surrounded by a fence, stood a large house with the offices of Major General Nikolai Petrovich Khitrov(actually, his last name correctly sounded like Khitrovo, a derivative of the word “cunning”, and his patronymic is more often indicated as Zakharovich, so the classic could well be wrong) , the owner of the empty “free space” right up to the current Yauzsky and Pokrovsky boulevards, which then still bore the same name: “White City Boulevard”. On this boulevard, as it was listed in the same address book, there was another house of Major General Khitrov, No. 39. Here he lived himself, and in house No. 24, in a “free place”, his servants lived, there were stables, cellars and basements. In this huge property, the Khitrov market was formed, named after the owner of this wild estate.
In 1839, Svinin died, and his vast estate and manorial chambers passed to the merchants Rastorguev, who owned them until the October Revolution.
The House of General Khitrov was purchased by the Orphanage for the apartments of its officials and resold it in the second half of the 19th century to the engineer Romeiko, and the wasteland, still inhabited by vagabonds, was purchased by the city for the market. The house required expensive repairs. His entourage did not encourage anyone to rent apartments in such a dangerous place, and Romeiko let him live as a rooming house: both profitably and without any expenses.

The terrible slums of Khitrovka have terrified Muscovites for decades. For dozens of years, the press, the Duma, and the administration, right up to the Governor General, took measures in vain to destroy this den of banditry.
On the one hand, near Khitrovka, there is the trading Solyanka with the Guardian Council, on the other, Pokrovsky Boulevard and the adjacent alleys were occupied by the richest mansions of Russian and foreign merchants. Here are Savva Morozov, and the Korzinkins, and the Khlebnikovs, and the Olovyanishnikovs, and the Rastorguevs, and the Bakhrushins... The owners of these palaces were indignant at the terrible neighborhood, used all measures to destroy it, but neither the speeches that thundered to please them at the meetings of the Duma, nor The administration couldn't do anything with the costly efforts. There were some secret springs that squeezed out all their attacking forces - and nothing came of it. Now one of the Khitrovsky homeowners has a hand in the Duma, now another has a friend in the office of the Governor-General, the third himself occupies an important position in charitable affairs.

A gloomy gateway, eloquently sealed by a wittily parked car owner.

Ahead you can already make out houses in the very heart of the once terrible Khitrovka. In former times, the pure public was already afraid to go up to this point, even during the day.
At the corner of Podkolokolny and Podkopaevsky lanes you can see the Church of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker in Podkopayi.

There are some very depressing stone bags here...

It is worth paying attention to the external decoration of buildings from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes it becomes obvious that certain houses were completed and expanded at a later period, while trying not to stray too far stylistically from the original project. There is, of course, little elegant stucco here: a more severe brick ornament predominates.

Another gateway. I think it's still creepy to walk here in the evenings.

A characteristic touch of the area!

The temple in the name of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker in Podkopayi was first mentioned in written sources in 1493, when Ivan III retired here after a fire that destroyed the palace in the Kremlin. In 1686, a cemetery was established at the church, and it is described as a stone structure. It was then called the Church of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker Podkopaev. Probably, the name came from the surname of some Podkopaev, most likely the builder of the temple.
However, there is a legend about this. Allegedly, thieves were planning to steal property from the church and dug under its wall. They entered the temple through a tunnel and stole a silver robe from the icon of St. Nicholas. However, on the way back, one of the thieves fell to death in a tunnel. This is why the church received the name “in Podkopayi”.
Another version also explains the name by digging: here, on the banks of the Rachka River, in the old days there was a quarry for clay extraction. By the way, when excavation works are carried out here, deposits of red clay are still found under the asphalt.
During a recent opening of the floor, it turned out that under the church there is an abandoned vaulted room, from which covered underground passages lead. However, literally the entire center of Moscow has been dug up: this work began back in the era of the Tatar-Mongol game, when the townspeople made underground caches in case of an enemy attack.

The church was remodeled several times, in particular at the end of the 17th and early XVIII centuries, as well as in the middle of the 18th century. As a result of the fire of 1812, it was severely damaged and was restored only in 1855–1858 according to the design of N.I. Kozlovsky. At that time, the temple received the status of an Alexandria metochion. The late decoration still hides 17th-century decor.
Under Soviet rule, the church was closed in 1929. Then they destroyed the tent and dismantled the crosses and domes on the side chapels. Living quarters were installed in the building, and a little later a galvanizing shop was opened. The church became a functioning temple again in 1991.

By the way, those who read Boris Akunin’s book “Death’s Lover” may remember that on the porch of this particular church, Semyon Skorikov, under the guise of a beggar, acted as a postman, handing letters from Erast Petrovich Fandorin to the girl nicknamed Death and in reverse order.

There are literally fifty steps left from the church to the former heart of Khitrovka.

Here it is - the intersection of several lanes at once: Podkolokolny (it crosses the frame), Pevchesky (it’s practically invisible here, it’s to the right of the border of the photo) and Petropavlovsky (it goes to the right).
Less than a century ago, there was Khitrovskaya Square with the market of the same name. This is how Gilyarovsky described it.
A large square in the center of the capital, near the Yauza River, surrounded by peeling stone houses, lies in a lowland into which several alleys descend like streams into a swamp. She's always smoking. Especially in the evening. And if it’s a little foggy or after rain, you look from above, from the height of the alley - horror takes over a fresh person: the cloud has settled! You go down the alley into a moving rotten pit. Crowds of ragged people move in the fog, flashing around the foggy lights, like in a bathhouse. These are food vendors sitting in rows on huge cast iron pots or pots with “stewed meat”, fried rotten sausage, boiling in iron boxes over braziers, with broth, which is better called “dog joy”...
And all around, steam bursts out in clouds from the doors of shops and taverns that open every minute and merges into a general fog, of course, fresher and clearer than inside the taverns and lodging houses, which are disinfected only by tobacco smoke, which slightly destroys the smell of rotten footcloths, human fumes and burnt vodka.
The two- and three-story houses around the square are all full of such shelters, in which up to ten thousand people slept and huddled. These houses brought huge profits to homeowners. Each rooming house paid a nickel per night, and the “rooms” cost two kopecks. Under the lower bunks, raised an arshin from the floor, there were lairs for two; they were separated by a hanging mat. The space an arshin in height and one and a half arshin in width between two mattings is the “number” where people spent the night without any bedding except their own rags...
Artels of visiting workers came to the square directly from the train stations and stood under a huge canopy, specially built for them. Contractors came here in the mornings and took the hired crews to work. After noon, the shed was put at the disposal of the Khitorov residents and traders: the latter bought up everything they could get their hands on. The poor people who sold their clothes and shoes immediately took them off and changed into bast shoes or props instead of boots, and from their suits into “changes up to the seventh generation”, through which the body is visible...
The houses where the shelters were located were named after the surnames of the owners: Bunin, Rumyantsev, Stepanova (then Yaroshenko) and Romeiko (then Kulakova).
Here in the center of the frame appears the Rumyantsev house, on the ground floor of which there were two taverns overlooking the square. They bore the unspoken but very eloquent names “Peresylny” and “Siberia”. Gilyarovsky says that homeless people, beggars and horse dealers gathered in Peresylny. It was cleaner, since the audience there was, from the point of view of the average person, more decent. But according to the Khitrovan canons, visitors to “Sibir” were of a higher degree, since the regulars there were more authoritative thieves, pickpockets and large buyers of stolen goods.

Look to the right – the intersection of Pevchesky Lane (it’s to the left) and Podkolokolny. The well-kept building on the corner is the former Buninka, that is, Bunin’s house. I’ll quote Gilyarovsky again.
Cleaner than the others was Bunin's house, where the entrance was not from the square, but from an alley. Many permanent Khitrovans lived here, subsisting on day jobs such as chopping wood and clearing snow, and women went to wash floors, clean, and do laundry as day laborers. Here lived professional beggars and various artisans who had completely become slums. More tailors, they were called “crayfish” because they, naked, having drunk their last shirt, never came out of their holes. They worked day and night, altering rags for the market, always hungover, in rags, barefoot.
And the earnings were often good. Suddenly, at midnight, thieves with bundles burst into the “crayfish” apartment. They'll wake you up.
- Hey, get up guys, get to work! - shouts the awakened tenant (of the apartment). Expensive fur coats, fox rotundas and a mountain of different dresses are taken out of the bundles. Now the cutting and sewing begins, and in the morning the traders come and carry armfuls of fur hats, vests, caps, and trousers to the market. The police are looking for fur coats and rotundas, but they are no longer there: instead of them there are hats and caps.
The main share, of course, goes to the tenant, because he is the buyer of stolen goods, and often the chieftain of the gang.
Also living here were the completely degraded “aristocrats”: drunken officials, officers expelled from service and defrocked priests. A little further along Pevchesky Lane was Bunin’s yard, where “young ladies” offered themselves.
As I was told, the Australian Embassy is now located in the Bunin House.

The same house, but from a different angle. Podkolokolny Lane, along which I came here, goes into the distance. Pevchesky Lane is visible on the left. Somewhere at their intersection in the 19th century there was a police booth. At that time, two famous police officers with the names Rudnikov and Lokhmatkin served here.
Khitrovka was a gloomy sight in the 19th century. There was no lighting in the maze of corridors and passages, on the crooked, dilapidated staircases leading to the dorms on all floors. He will find his way, but there is no need for someone else to come here! And indeed, no government dared to venture into these dark abysses.
The entire Khitrov market was run by two policemen - Rudnikov and Lokhmatkin. Only the “punks” were really afraid of their pood-sized fists, and the “business guys” were on friendly terms with both representatives of the authorities and, upon returning from hard labor or escaping from prison, the first thing they did was bow to them. Both of them knew all the criminals by sight, having taken a closer look at them over the course of their quarter-century of continuous service. And there’s no way you can hide from them: they’ll still report that so-and-so has returned to such-and-such an apartment.
And when the investigator for especially important cases V.F. Keizer asked Rudnikov:
– Is it true that you know by sight all the fugitive criminals on Khitrovka and will not arrest them?
“That’s why I’ve been standing there on duty for twenty years, otherwise I can’t stand a day, they’ll kill you!” Of course, I know everyone.
And the Khitrovites “prospered” under such power. Rudnikov was a one-of-a-kind type. He was considered fair even by escaped convicts, and therefore was not killed, although he was beaten and wounded during arrests more than once. But they did not wound him out of malice, but only to save their own skin. Everyone did their job: one caught and held, and the other hid and ran. This is the convict logic.
Over twenty years of serving as a policeman among rags and runaways, Rudnikov developed a special view of everything:
- Well, a convict... Well, a thief... a beggar... a tramp... They are also people, everyone wants to live. But the fact that? I am alone against them all. Can you catch them all? If you catch one, others will come running... You have to live!
Once upon a time there was such a case. An employee of "Entertainment" Epifanov, who decided to study the slums, got confused in a drunken case on Khitrovka. They stripped him naked in the square. He's in the booth. It knocks, it rattles, the “guard” shouts. And so he returned home naked. The next day, having come to the “Entertainment” to ask for an advance payment on the occasion of a robbery, he told the end of his journey: a huge watchman, barefoot and in only his underwear, to whom he called himself a nobleman, jumped out of the booth, turned his back to himself and barked: “Every bastard will disturb you at night!” - and kicked so hard - thanks for being still barefoot - that Epifanov flew far into the puddle...
Rudnikov was not afraid of anyone or anything. Even Kulakov himself, with his millions, whom the entire police were afraid of, because “the Governor General shook hands with Ivan Petrovich,” was nothing for Rudnikov. He directly came to him for the holiday and, having received a hundred from him, thundered:
- Vanka, are you kidding me or what? Al forgot? A?..
Kulakov, who was receiving congratulators in his home on Svininsky Lane, in a uniform with orders, remembered something, trembled and babbled:
-Oh, sorry, dear Fedot Ivanovich. And he gave three hundred.
It was from Rudnikov that Boris Akunin copied the image of policeman Ivan Fedotovich Budnikov in the above-mentioned story “Death’s Lover.”

The intersection of Petropavlovsky and Pevchesky lanes forms an acute angle into which a massive building nicknamed Utyug is inscribed.
In previous years, it belonged to Kulakov’s rather extensive domains. Kulakovka was not just one house, but a whole series of buildings between Khitrovskaya Square and Svininsky (Pevchesky) Lane. The iron is just a front house, with its narrow end opening onto the square. According to Gilyarovsky, the police did not enter Kulakovka at all.
That Iron, which is shown in the photograph, has only an indirect relation to the “original” slum of a century ago. Only the basements and part of the first floor have been preserved from the original building; the rest has been rebuilt.

And in this building, Yaroshenko’s house, (standing on the corner of the square and Podkolokolny Lane) there was the most terrible of the Khitrovka taverns - “Katorga”. It first belonged to the famous harborer of fugitives and robbers Mark Afanasyev, and then passed to his clerk Kulakov, who made a fortune in the place occupied by his old owner.
According to the description of Vladimir Gilyarovsky, “Katorga” was a den of violent and drunken debauchery, an exchange for thieves and fugitives. Anyone returning from Siberia or prison did not pass this place. The arrival, if he is truly “businesslike,” was greeted here with honor. He was immediately “put to work.”
Police reports confirmed that the majority of criminal fugitives from Siberia were arrested in Moscow at Khitrovka.
In the basement of this house, Boris Akunin settled a beggar kalyaku (that is, a clerk), who knew the secret of the treasure in Serebryaniki, only slightly changing the name to Eroshenkovsky basement. True, in reality, very extensive catacombs were still not here, but under the hill behind the Iron.
It was in “Katorga,” according to Akunin, that Ksaviry Feofilaktovich Grushin, Erast Fandorin’s mentor, was killed, after which in the basement of this tavern the still young detective dealt with the henchmen of the “businesslike” Misha the Little.
Judging by what I read on the Internet, Yaroshenko’s house has a very interesting and “authentic” courtyard, but I couldn’t get into it: the gate was tightly closed...

On the site of this building of the Electromechanical College (former technical school, and previously just a school) there was an extensive Khitrov market. As far as I know, a project is currently being prepared for a multifunctional business center, which they plan to build on the site, demolishing the college.
Podkolokolny Lane runs in the foreground. By the way, in the middle of the 20th century there was a tram line here.
During Soviet times, the square itself bore the name of Maxim Gorky.

Iron's patio. In some places, the surviving semi-basement windows belong to the old house of Romeiko (Kulakov). Now it is a completely clean and civilized courtyard, although local residents continue to call this house the Iron.

A look from the same point as in the last frame, but in the opposite direction. According to Gilyarovsky, there used to be a gloomy row of three-story stinking buildings here, called the Sukhoi Ravine. Hence the nicknames of the inhabitants - irons or wolves of the Dry Ravine.
On the left you can see the Church of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul.
Only in 1923 did the city authorities find the strength to destroy the old Khitrovka.
Quite unexpectedly, the entire market was surrounded by police, stationed in all alleys and at the gates of every house. Everyone was released from the market - no one was allowed into the market. The residents were warned in advance about the upcoming eviction, but none of them even thought of leaving their “khazy”. The police, having surrounded the houses, offered to move out immediately, warning that the exit was free, no one would be detained, and gave a period of several hours after which “measures will be taken.” Only some of the disabled beggars were left in one of the outbuildings of Rumyantsevka...
In one week... they cleared the entire area with the centuries-old hangouts surrounding it, in a few months they converted the recent slums into clean apartments and populated them with workers and office people. The very main slum “Kulakovka” with its underground dens in the “Dry Ravine” on Svininsky Lane and the huge “Iron” was razed to the ground and rebuilt. All the same houses, but clean on the outside... There are no covered with paper or rags or simply broken windows from which steam is pouring out and a drunken roar is rushing...

However, this is not my entire walk around Khitrovka. I will continue in the direction former Third Myasnitsky city police station.

How Moscow streets were named

It was named after General N.Z. Khitrovo, son-in-law of Field Marshal Kutuzov. The general owned a house in the area and planned to build a large market nearby for trading greens and meat. The Khitrovo mansion has been preserved and stands on the corner of Yauzsky Boulevard and Podkolokolny Lane in the courtyard of a Stalinist house.

There were two estates on the site of the Khitrovsky market, but they burned down in 1812. For a long time, no one undertook the restoration of these mansions, and their owners were unable to pay taxes. And in 1824, General Khitrovo bought these properties and built a square, and then donated it to the city.

In 1827, Khitrovo died, and the shopping arcades changed owners. The square began to gradually transform: if previously there were front gardens on three undeveloped sides, now there are shopping arcades. On holidays and Sundays, trade extended to the square itself, where portable trays were installed.

In the 1860s, a shed was built on Khitrovskaya Square, where the Moscow Labor Exchange was located. Workers, freed peasants and even unemployed intellectuals flocked here in search of work. Basically, servants and seasonal workers were hired at the Khitrovskaya Exchange. Stock traders became “easy prey” for pickpockets. Not everyone was able to find a job, and many settled in the vicinity of Khitrovka, earning a living as a beggar.

Gradually, inexpensive taverns and taverns were opened around Khitrovskaya Square, charitable organizations fed the poor for free, and the surrounding houses turned into flophouses and apartment buildings with cheap apartments.

Khitrovka was a gloomy sight in the last century. There was no lighting in the maze of corridors and passages, on the crooked, dilapidated staircases leading to the dorms on all floors. He will find his way, but there is no need for someone else to come here! And indeed, no government dared to delve into these dark abysses... The two- and three-story houses around the square are all full of such shelters, in which up to ten thousand people slept and huddled. These houses brought huge profits to homeowners. Each rooming house paid a nickel per night, and the “rooms” cost two kopecks. Under the lower bunks, raised an arshin from the floor, there were lairs for two; they were separated by a hanging mat. The space an arshin in height and one and a half arshin in width between two mattings is the “number” where people spent the night without any bedding except their own rags.

By the end of the 19th century, Khitrovka turned into one of the most disadvantaged areas of Moscow. The flophouses overlooked Khitrovskaya Square - Yaroshenko's house, Bunin's house, Kulakov's house and Rumyantsev's house. And in the mansion of General Khitrovo there was a hospital for Khitronov residents.

In Rumyantsev’s house, for example, there was an apartment for “wanderers.” The heftiest kids, swollen from drunkenness, with shaggy beards; The greasy hair lies over the shoulders; it has never seen a comb or soap. These are monks of unprecedented monasteries, pilgrims who spend their entire lives walking from Khitrovka to the church porch or to the Zamoskvoretsk merchant houses and back.
After a drunken night, such an intimidating uncle crawls out from under the bunk, asks the tenant for a glass of fusel wine on credit, puts on a wanderer's cassock, slings a satchel full of rags over his shoulders, puts a scooper on his head and walks barefoot, sometimes even in winter, through the snow, to prove his holiness. for the collection.
And what kind of lies will such a “wanderer” lie to the shady merchants, what will he foist on them to save their souls! Here is a sliver from the Holy Sepulcher, and a piece of the ladder that forefather Jacob saw in a dream, and a pin from the chariot of Elijah the Prophet that fell from the sky.

In addition to the shelter, in Rumyantsev’s house there were taverns “Peresylny” and “Sibir”, and in Yaroshenko’s house there was a tavern “Katorga”. These were unofficial names common among the Khitrovans. Each tavern was visited by a certain type of public. In “Peresylny” there were beggars, homeless people and horse dealers. “Siberia” gathered pickpockets, thieves, large buyers of stolen goods, and in “Katorga” there were thieves and escaped convicts. A prisoner returning from prison or from Siberia almost always came to Khitrovka, where he was greeted with honor and given a job.

Cleaner than the others was Bunin's house, where the entrance was not from the square, but from an alley. Many permanent Khitrovans lived here, subsisting on day jobs such as chopping wood and clearing snow, and women went to wash floors, clean, and do laundry as day laborers. Here lived professional beggars and various artisans who had completely become slums. More tailors, they were called “crayfish” because they, naked, having drunk their last shirt, never came out of their holes. They worked day and night, altering rags for the market, always hungover, in rags, barefoot. And the earnings were often good. Suddenly, at midnight, thieves with bundles burst into the “crayfish” apartment. They'll wake you up.
- Hey, get up guys, go to work! - shouts the awakened tenant.
Expensive fur coats, fox rotundas and a mountain of different dresses are taken out of the bundles. Now the cutting and sewing begins, and in the morning the traders come and carry armfuls of fur hats, vests, caps, and trousers to the market. The police are looking for fur coats and rotundas, but they are no longer there: instead of them there are hats and caps.

The House-Iron is inscribed in the acute corner of Petropavlovsky and Pevchesky (Svininsky) lanes. The owner of the building was Kulakov. Here was one of the most famous and terrible night shelters in Khitrovka with underground corridors. They have been preserved, and during the Soviet years there was a bomb shelter here.

The gloomy row of three-story stinking buildings behind the iron house was called “Dry Ravine”, and all together - “Pig House”. It belonged to the collector Svinin. Hence the nicknames of the inhabitants: “irons” and “wolves of the Dry ravine.”

After the October Revolution, the Iron House and Kulakovka began to fall into disrepair. The shelters refused to pay the owners, and the owners, unable to find anyone to complain to, abandoned the matter.

Also, in the post-revolutionary years, crime increased sharply on Khitrovka. In this regard, in the 1920s, the Moscow City Council decided to demolish the Khitrov market, and on March 27, 1928, a public garden was built on the square. At the same time, the old shelters were converted into housing associations.

In 1935, Khitrovsky Square and lane were renamed in honor of Maxim Gorky. Historical names were returned only in 1994.

They say that the morals described by Gilyarovsky reigned in Khitrovka for only a short time - in the 20th century, when the authorities weakened control. And in the 19th century in this area there were many aristocratic houses that simply could not coexist with shelters. But many people associate Khitrovka with the “bottom” and the play of the same name by Maxim Gorky. And although Gorky drew the “scenery” for the play “At the Lower Depths” in the area of the slum “Millionka” in Nizhny Novgorod, in 1902 Stanislavsky, Nemirovich-Danchenko and the artist Simov came to study the life of the “lower classes” to stage this play in Khitrovka.

On March 20, 2008, the construction company Don-Stroy developed a project for the development of the former Khitrovskaya Square. It was planned to build an office center on the site of the Electromechanical College (Podkokolny Lane, 11a). This caused protest from local historians and local residents.

After collecting signatures, the entire area “The noteworthy place “Ivanovskaya Gorka - Kulishki - Khitrovka”” was taken under state protection. Proposals to develop the area arose many more times, but local residents made it clear that they were against construction on Khitrovskaya Square.

Now all that remains of the Khitrov shelters are the basements and partly the first floors. The rest was rebuilt into prestigious housing.

They say that......Sonka Zolotaya Ruchka hid the treasure in one of the houses on Khitrovka. But no one managed to find him. Those who tried went crazy or disappeared. They also say that the ghost of a woman still wanders the streets of Khitrovsky, wanting to reveal the secret of her treasure.
...Kulakov’s daughter, Lidia Ivanovna Kashina, came to Konstantinovo to see Yesenin.
"You know,
He was funny
Once in love with me, "-
says Anna Snegina, the heroine of the poem of the same name. Its prototype was L.I. Kashina. During Soviet times, she lived in Moscow, on Skatertny Lane, and worked as a translator and typist. Few people know that Sergei Yesenin and the prototype of his “Anna Snegina” are buried not far from each other on Vagankovskoe cemetery.
... Zhukovsky, Pushkin, Gogol and other famous writers often visited the salon of Elizaveta Mikhailovna Khitrovo, the wife of General Khitrovo. It is known that Elizaveta Mikhailovna woke up late and received the first visitors in her bedroom. Soon a joke appeared in society. Another guest greets the lying hostess and is about to sit down. Mrs. Khitrovo stops him: “No, don’t sit on this chair, this is Pushkin’s. No, not on the sofa - this is Zhukovsky's place. No, not this chair - this is Gogol's chair. Sit on my bed: this is a place for everyone!” .
...the artist Alexei Savrasov ended his life in poverty on Khitrovka. It is believed that Makovsky depicted the artist as an old man in a scarf and hat in the foreground in the painting “The Lodging House”.
... lived on Khitrovka Senya One-Eyed, who drank his eye away. He really wanted to drink, but had no money. And his friend Vanya lived nearby, also one-eyed. Senya came to him and exchanged his glass eye for a quarter of vodka.

Do you have anything to tell about the history of Khitrovka?

Everyone knows that the “Katorga” tavern, which became legendary thanks to Gilyarovsky, was located in the house of Elizaveta Platonovna Yaroshenko on Khitrovskaya Square (Podkolokolny Lane, 11/11 / Podkopaevsky Lane, 11/11/1 Building 2). But where exactly it was located in this house is not known for certain.
You can try to do a little research using old photograph(unfortunately, not of the best quality) and the text of Vladimir Alekseevich himself (who, alas, was too careless about toponymic details)...

..." - And now, Gleb Ivanovich, let's go to "Katorga", then to "Peresylny",
to “Siberia”, and then we will go through the night shelters.
- Which "Katorga"?
- That’s what a tavern is called in Khitrovsky jargon, this one!
Having passed by the traders, we found ourselves in front of low restaurant door V
Yaroshenko's house.
“Should I come in?” asked Gleb Ivanovich, holding my arm.
-- Certainly!
I opened the door, from which foul steam and hubbub immediately poured out. Noise,
swearing, fighting, clinking of dishes... We moved to the table..."
"...We paid and left.
“Let me pass,” Gleb Ivanovich addressed politely. to the one standing on
sidewalk against the door on all fours of a woman wet from rain and mud.
- Went to... See, it’s full of ankle boots... And she explained further, hoarsely and
nasal woman, the story with the ankle boot, seasoned with a strong word. I tried
stood up, but, unable to maintain her balance, fell into a puddle. Gleb Ivanovich grabbed
me by the hand and dragged to the square, already empty and covered with puddles, in
which reflected the fire of a single lantern...
V.A. Gilyarovsky. "Moscow and Muscovites". (Italicized in the text by me - d1).

What can you “squeeze” out of the text?
1. "to the one standing on the sidewalk opposite the door" - therefore the door was from the street, and not from the gateway or from the yard (there are no sidewalks there);
2. "low restaurant door" - "low"k" - low ground floor, maybe semi-basement, but not a basement (Gilyarovsky does not write anything about the steps down to the basement).
“Low - an inn on the ground floor” (V.I. Dal).
The first floor in Yaroshenko's house is precisely “low” and the further from the corner of Podkolokolny Lane, the lower.
The photograph clearly shows that to the left of the gateway there was a door, above which hung a sign (the inscription cannot be made out, but most likely “Tavern” or “Tea House”). Now this door is gone - in its place is a window:

Photo No. 2

Photo No. 3

3. Closer to the photographer there is another door (now also converted into a window (see photo No. 3)) and also with a sign (the inscription is completely illuminated), but Uspensky, leaving the tavern, " dragged"Gilarovsky" To the square", which suggests a certain distance of the door from the square as such. Opposite the gateway and the door in question there was a canopy - it is doubtful that Gleb Ivanovich dragged Uncle Gilay under the canopy - after all, he wanted to quickly leave the square (most likely along Podkolokolny Lane).
Therefore, we can conclude that the entrance to the "Katorga" tavern was the door closest to the gateway on the left, now blocked (turned into a window).

UPD: And one more quote from Gilyarovsky: "...Only the windows of "Katorga" glow red lights through the smoky glass and steam coming out of the door that opens every now and then...".

"the windows of "Katorga" glow“- Therefore, it’s probably not a basement!

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