Mikhail Zuev-Ordynets

The Legend of the City of Novo-Kitezh

Whatever you say, such incidents do happen in the world; rarely, but they do happen.

Many adventure and historical books belong to his pen: “The Rumble of the Desert” - about Central Asia; “The Last Year” is about Russian colonies in North America; “Khlopushin’s search” - about the Pugachev era in the Urals, and others.

Zuev-Ordynets saw the vocation of an adventure writer in discovering the interesting, in being able to look for the unusual in the ordinary. Somewhere among everyday affairs, familiar events, familiar facts, invisible to an indifferent eye, a wonderful path of adventure winds.

The writer walked this path for many years. He wandered around our homeland. I walked through the Siberian taiga, Karakum sands, Belarusian swamps, Kazakh steppes and Yamal tundra. Climbed the mountain trails of the Urals, Caucasus and Ala-Tau. He plied four seas, sailed along the Irtysh, Chusovaya, Volga and Amu Darya. He walked, rode a horse, a camel, raced on deer and dogs. He flew on an airplane, sailed on a steamship, on a Caspian Turkmen sailing ship, on a Siberian boat and on an Amudarya skiff.

“To write about the colorful diversity of our Motherland, about the boundless sea of ​​its vibrant life, about its people, different in their work, actions, aspirations, customs and at the same time surprisingly similar in the richness of their souls - this is how I understand the work of an adventure writer,” - says Zuev-Ordynets in the preface to one of his books.

The writer had many creative ideas. But premature death interrupted his life and work.

Dedicated to Regina Valerievna Zueva-Ordynets with deep gratitude for her help and creative union Author.

PART ONE

FRONT COMRADES

TUSHINSKY AIRDROME

A. Tvardovsky. "Vasily Terkin"

It seemed that all of Moscow was rushing to Tushino. Crowded trams rang desperately, trolleybuses honked at different voices, and commuter trains honked. In one direction, without oncoming traffic, cars rushed in a continuous stream: decrepit veterans of Moscow streets, battered Fords, Lincolns, Benzes, and domestic Emkas, Gaziks, and front-line Jeeps, and only that they were born, with the restrictions not yet removed, “Muscovites” and “Pobeda”. Motorcycles rumbled between cars, bicycles rushed silently along the side of the road, and crowds of pedestrians walked along the sidewalks. And this whole avalanche rolled towards the Tushinsky airfield.

Opposite the village of Shchukino, where the Volokolamskoe Highway climbed a steep hill, a taxi stopped, exhausted - a dilapidated, even shaggy "Emka" of some kind from old age, with a windshield shot through, with ray-shaped cracks. She apparently visited the front and returned, albeit crippled, to the ranks of the Moscow taxi workers. The major general sitting next to the driver asked in surprise:

- What's happened? Is the “old woman” capricious?

- That’s what an “old woman” is! – the driver answered with restrained rage. “It’s time for her to retire.” A bag of scrap metal, not a car!

He got out of the cab and dived under the hood. The General also went out onto the asphalt and, turning his back to the highway, began to look lovingly at Moscow, from here, from the hill, visible well and far away. Bathed in the morning August sun, she seemed to smile, joyfully. But just recently, some two years ago, on its streets, smelling of the dreary fumes of fires, volleys of anti-aircraft guns stationed in city squares roared, and bombers with black crosses on their wings howled in the sky.

- Done, Comrade General, I persuaded our “old woman.” Go! – the driver shouted, slamming the hood.

The general stepped towards the car and stopped. His calm, strong-boned face trembled. Deep excitement, surprise and joy were reflected in him.

The avalanche of cars rushing along the highway, rising uphill, slowed down. A Jeep, thickly smeared with fuel oil on the canvas side, slowly drove past the Emka in two steps. In the back seat of the Jeep there was only one man, dry, muscular, well-fitted, in a naval jacket and a midshipman's cap with a blunt Nakhimov visor, somehow especially dashingly pulled down onto his eyebrow. He indifferently glanced at the general with his gypsy eyes, with bluish whites, and the general rushed after the Jeep, shouting in a voice dry with excitement:

- Bird!.. Fyodor Tarasovich!.. Midshipman!..

But the Jeeps were already obscured by passing cars.

The general rushed to the taxi and shouted to the driver:

-Have you seen the Willys, smeared with fuel oil? Chase him! If you catch up, ask me whatever you want!

“No overtaking today, Comrade General,” the driver said cautiously. – Sure trouble from the traffic police!

- Come on, come on! At least don't lag behind. We’ll jump up to the entrance to the airfield together, and that’s good. Then I’ll intercept him at the entrance!

The decrepit Emka rushed forward in a youthful manner, excitedly rattling both the engine and the body.

- Whom will you intercept? Did he steal anything from you?

- Why did you steal it? Oh my God, I’m looking for Bird! Midshipman Ptukhu, do you understand?

The driver didn't understand anything. And the general thought, worried:

“It was Bird! I saw it clearly. Midshipman, you are my dear! Sea storm! And the gypsy eyes, and the Nakhimov midshipman. Why, it’s all his!”

- Where? Entrance on both left and right! – the driver asked impatiently.

- Eh, honest mother! Let's go right! – the general exclaimed desperately.

Flowerbeds, flower beds, and lawns flashed by, and the expanse of the airfield opened up to the eye. Blue and yellow aviation flags fluttered invitingly over the tower of the Central Aero Club.

Having handed the driver a large piece of paper, the general ran towards the entrance turnstiles. But there was a traffic jam here. Only half an hour later those pressing from behind pushed the general onto the airfield. He approached the rope, behind which spectators were already sitting on the grass. Before him was a sea of ​​heads. Will you find Bird here?

“We need to write to Kosagovsky. Bird, they say, was found and left Novo-Kitezh. – The General sighed excitedly. - No, I’ll wait to write. He, of course, will ask about Anfisa. What will I answer him? We must first find the midshipman and find out everything thoroughly from him. Why get on Viktor Dmitrievich’s nerves ahead of time!”

Kitezh is a mythical wonderful city, which, according to Russian legends, escaped from Batu’s troops in the 13th century due to the fact that it sank to the bottom of Lake Svetloyar. Old Believers described Kitezh as a refuge for followers of the old faith. And the mystics of the 19th century imagined Kitezh as a city of the righteous, the spiritual center of Rus', miraculously transferred to another dimension...

The legend of the city of Kitezh is one of the most wonderful stories of Russian folklore. Once upon a time, on the picturesque shores of Svetloyar stood the city of Bolshoi Kitezh, built by Prince Yuri Vsevolodovich. The Mongol-Tatar hordes attacked Rus', Batu's army approached the Volga, in a fierce battle pushed back the Russian army and ravaged the city of Maly Kitezh (Gorodets). Prince Yuri took refuge in the Trans-Volga forests, in Svetloyarsk Bolshoi Kitezh. Baty extorted the way from one of the captives, went through the forest passages to Svetloyar and besieged Kitezh. Its defenders fought valiantly, Prince Yuri died defending the city. There was nowhere to wait for help. And then the residents of the city entered the church and began to pray for deliverance from imminent death. God heard the prayer. And before the eyes of the astonished enemy army, the city, along with all its inhabitants, sank into the waters of Lake Svetloyar. Sometimes, on church holidays, bells ring from under the water, and some were lucky enough to see the city itself above the waters of Svetloyar...

In the 18th–19th centuries, the legend of Kitezh changed somewhat. Now they spoke of it as a city of the righteous, a place where justice and piety reigned. Some, having heard enough stories about Kitezh, vowed to find this city and set off on their journey. Then letters came from them. The wanderers wrote that they had reached Kitezh and asked their loved ones not to worry about their future fate... The Old Believers did not ignore Kitezh either. According to them, Kitezh is the last refuge of followers of the true faith. It was mentioned on a par with the famous kingdom of Prester John, Belovodye and the earthly paradise... Throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, Lake Svetloyar took place on June 23, under “Vladimirskaya”, that is, on the church feast day in the village of Vladimir, coinciding with the pagan day of Ivan Kupala, at first mainly Old Believers flocked, seeking the “true faith,” and then other believers for healing and participation in “miracles.” On the shores of the lake, prayers and religious debates about faith were held, followed by religious processions and a fair. There was a chapel on one of the hills. At one time, fugitive Old Believers took refuge in dugout holes on its slopes, and during the period of active struggle against the schism, they took refuge. They were the first to record the legend of the city of Kitezh. This is how the “Book, the verb chronicler”, or “Kitezh Chronicler” appeared - an Old Believer handwritten work, very valued and promoted by zealots of the “old faith”. The “Book” was read aloud to the pilgrims gathered “on the mountains”; it was rewritten for those who wanted to take with them the memory of the pilgrimage to the legendary Svetloyar.

Historians have long ceased to regard legends as manifestations of folk fantasy. Too many of them turned out to be evidence of actual events. After Schliemann, relying on the texts of Homer, found Troy, interest in the investigation of legends and myths steadily increased. This is probably why Russian scientists and numerous enthusiasts still do not give up trying to find the famous Kitezh.

Research into the mysterious lake took place with long interruptions. Interest in Svetloyar especially intensified at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries, after the publication of Melnikov-Pechersky’s book “In the Woods” in 1875. The famous fiction writer and ethnographer described Svetloyar and included a retelling of “The Chronicler” in the book. Melnikov-Pechersky traced the veneration of the lake back to the times of the pagan Kupala cult. Korolenko was keenly interested in the legend of Kitezh (essay “On Svetloyar” from the cycle “In Deserted Places,” 1890), M. Prishvin (“At the Walls of the Invisible City,” 1908), N. A. Rimsky-Korsakov (“ The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh..."). In 1924–1926, the historian of ancient Russian literature V.L. Komarovich visited Svetloyar, and in 1936 he published the first special work “The Kitezh Legend”. In 1931, a special atheistic expedition worked there, and in 1959, employees of the Institute of Ethnography of the USSR Academy of Sciences N.N. Beletskaya and V.N. Basilov were engaged in research of the Svetloyarsk cult. At the end of the 60s of the last century, another expedition to Svetloyar took place, organized by Komsomolskaya Pravda.

The search for Kitezh was initially carried out in several directions. One group of scientists took into account ancient chronicles in order to, by comparing historical facts, find indications of the possible location of Kitezh. Another, more numerous, relied on the testimony of those who saw the city rising from the lake and even met its inhabitants. Finally, the third group was engaged exclusively in theoretical research, since its participants believed that it was useless to look for Kitezh in our reality - after all, it was moved to another dimension...

Finding the sunken city seemed simple at first - after all, Svetloyar did not disappear anywhere, so historians hoped to find evidence of the existence of Kitezh both on the shores and at the bottom of the lake. However, an examination of the Svetloyarsk hills and the immediate surroundings by archaeologist T. I. Makarova and historian A. S. Orlov turned out to be inconclusive. No traces of settlements were found (except for the dugouts of the Old Believers).

It turned out to be much more difficult to explore the lake - after all, its depth in some places reaches thirty meters! However, we managed to find out something even before diving under water. Geologist V.I. Nikishin, having examined several hypotheses about the origin of Svetloyar, came to the conclusion that the lake arose as a result of the subsidence of the earth's surface at the intersection of deep faults in the earth's crust. How could the subsidence happen? Scuba divers A. Gogeshvili, V. Demichev, F. Berman, G. Nazarov and hydrologist D. Kozlovsky established that the coastal slope of the lake goes under the water in three ledges. This indicates that the process of subsidence was gradual. The last two subsidences could have occurred within human memory, including in the 13th century.

Further searches confirmed the scientists' guess. On the upper underwater terrace, scuba divers found tree trunks sticking out of the silt. It was not possible to bring them to the surface, but the scuba divers managed to make a cut from one tree and check it with radiocarbon dating. Analysis showed that the tree is more than 400 years old. However, further research led nowhere: the underwater terraces turned out to be covered with a thick layer of silt. Only a year later, at the bottom of Svetloyar, individual household items were discovered that can be attributed to the period of the 13th century. However, only small items made of wood and metal were found. The scuba divers did not find any walls or remains of the famous temples.

Meanwhile, historians, studying the chronicles, named another supposed location of Kitezh - Gorodets. This Volga region city owes its existence to the founder of Moscow, Yuri Dolgoruky. From the moment of its foundation it was called Small Kitezh. This means that Greater Kitezh could be located somewhere nearby. Indeed, such cases have happened - take, for example, Novy and Stary Oskol in the Belgorod region. But there are also counter examples. Let's say, New Amsterdam (which we know as New York) is located thousands of kilometers from its namesake... In addition, we should not forget about another long-standing tradition - naming newly founded settlements in honor of outstanding spiritual centers. How many times on Earth have they tried to recreate Jerusalem, Rome, Paris! Their “doubles” were usually small. So, maybe Greater Kitezh was located in a completely different place? Did Maly appear as a tribute to the spiritual center of Rus'?

However, this assumption can hardly be called a full-fledged hypothesis. After all, according to legend, the prince’s troops retreated to Greater Kitezh after the capture of Little Kitezh. It is unlikely that the retreat of the remnants of the troops was long - many soldiers were wounded and needed care. In addition, without the protection of the fortress walls, it was impossible for a small army to hold out against Batu’s huge army. This means that their refuge should have been the nearest fortress. But archaeologists were unable to find any traces of the legendary city near Gorodets.

Then a hypothesis arose that the city, gradually plunging into the water, went into another layer of reality. This transition was the result of the collective prayer of the besieged and God's miracle. But then it is simply impossible to find it... After all, according to legend, only a few people with a pure heart can see ancient temples and communicate with the inhabitants of Kitezh.

A folklore expedition that collected legends about Kitezh recorded more than 300 stories about the connections between our world and Kitezh. Extraordinary encounters have occurred more than once near Svetloyar. Old-timers said that an old man with a long gray beard in ancient Slavic clothes came into an ordinary village store. He asked to sell bread, and paid with old Russian coins from the time of the Tatar-Mongol yoke. Moreover, the coins looked like new. Often the elder asked the question: “How is it in Rus' now? Isn’t it time for Kitezh to rebel?” However, local residents replied that it was too early...

Some managed to visit the city itself. Most often, these are not ascetics who made a vow to see Kitezh, but the most ordinary people - a lost shepherd, a man who was lucky enough to sell bread. Pilgrims sometimes spent the night in a wonderful hut. The owners gave them tea and made their beds. And when morning came, it turned out that they were sleeping on the grass not far from the lake. Most of these stories have a common idea: there is no place for worldly people in Kitezh. After a short conversation, they are either sent back by the inhabitants of the city, or the storytellers themselves remember their relatives and friends left at home, and the city disappears before their eyes. The expedition members recorded only five stories about those who went to Kitezh forever...

There is another version that explains the incomprehensible miracle of Kitezh. It is based on the fact that the word “Kitezh” itself in the Mari language means “wanderer”, “wanderer”. If you look at the legend of Kitezh from the point of view of its name, the picture will completely change. The wandering city, which is only a select few, strangely resembles the mythical country of Shambhala - the Buddha's pass. This is not a place in the usual sense of the word. This is a symbol of the spiritual path, service and self-improvement. This means that Kitezh is not at the bottom of Svetloyar, it is in the heart of everyone who wants to see it, hear the ringing of its bells and touch the pure spring of true spirituality...

Page 1 of 85

Whatever you say, such incidents do happen in the world; rarely, but they do happen.

Many adventure and historical books belong to his pen: “The Rumble of the Desert” - about Central Asia; “The Last Year” is about Russian colonies in North America; “Khlopushin’s search” - about the Pugachev era in the Urals, and others.

Zuev-Ordynets saw the vocation of an adventure writer in discovering the interesting, in being able to look for the unusual in the ordinary. Somewhere among everyday affairs, familiar events, familiar facts, invisible to an indifferent eye, a wonderful path of adventure winds.

The writer walked this path for many years. He wandered around our homeland. I walked through the Siberian taiga, Karakum sands, Belarusian swamps, Kazakh steppes and Yamal tundra. Climbed the mountain trails of the Urals, Caucasus and Ala-Tau. He plied four seas, sailed along the Irtysh, Chusovaya, Volga and Amu Darya. He walked, rode a horse, a camel, raced on deer and dogs. He flew on an airplane, sailed on a steamship, on a Caspian Turkmen sailing ship, on a Siberian boat and on an Amudarya skiff.

“To write about the colorful diversity of our Motherland, about the boundless sea of ​​its vibrant life, about its people, different in their work, actions, aspirations, customs and at the same time surprisingly similar in the richness of their souls - this is how I understand the work of an adventure writer,” - says Zuev-Ordynets in the preface to one of his books.

The writer had many creative ideas. But premature death interrupted his life and work.

Dedicated to Regina Valerievna Zueva-Ordynets with deep gratitude for her help and creative union Author.

PART ONE
FRONT COMRADES

Chapter 1
TUSHINSKY AIRDROME

This is a saying for now
The fairy tale will be ahead.

1

It seemed that all of Moscow was rushing to Tushino. Crowded trams rang desperately, trolleybuses honked at different voices, and commuter trains honked. In one direction, without oncoming traffic, cars rushed in a continuous stream: decrepit veterans of Moscow streets, battered Fords, Lincolns, Benzes, and domestic Emkas, Gaziks, and front-line Jeeps, and only that they were born, with the restrictions not yet removed, “Muscovites” and “Pobeda”. Motorcycles rumbled between cars, bicycles rushed silently along the side of the road, and crowds of pedestrians walked along the sidewalks. And this whole avalanche rolled towards the Tushinsky airfield.

Opposite the village of Shchukino, where the Volokolamskoe Highway climbed a steep hill, a taxi stopped, exhausted - a dilapidated, even shaggy "Emka" of some kind from old age, with a windshield shot through, with ray-shaped cracks. She apparently visited the front and returned, albeit crippled, to the ranks of the Moscow taxi workers. The major general sitting next to the driver asked in surprise:

- What's happened? Is the “old woman” capricious?

- That’s what an “old woman” is! – the driver answered with restrained rage. “It’s time for her to retire.” A bag of scrap metal, not a car!

He got out of the cab and dived under the hood. The General also went out onto the asphalt and, turning his back to the highway, began to look lovingly at Moscow, from here, from the hill, visible well and far away. Bathed in the morning August sun, she seemed to smile, joyfully. But just recently, some two years ago, on its streets, smelling of the dreary fumes of fires, volleys of anti-aircraft guns stationed in city squares roared, and bombers with black crosses on their wings howled in the sky.

- Done, Comrade General, I persuaded our “old woman.” Go! – the driver shouted, slamming the hood.

The general stepped towards the car and stopped. His calm, strong-boned face trembled. Deep excitement, surprise and joy were reflected in him.

The avalanche of cars rushing along the highway, rising uphill, slowed down. A Jeep, thickly smeared with fuel oil on the canvas side, slowly drove past the Emka in two steps. In the back seat of the Jeep there was only one man, dry, muscular, well-fitted, in a naval jacket and a midshipman's cap with a blunt Nakhimov visor, somehow especially dashingly pulled down onto his eyebrow. He indifferently glanced at the general with his gypsy eyes, with bluish whites, and the general rushed after the Jeep, shouting in a voice dry with excitement:

- Bird!.. Fyodor Tarasovich!.. Midshipman!..

But the Jeeps were already obscured by passing cars.

The general rushed to the taxi and shouted to the driver:

-Have you seen the Willys, smeared with fuel oil? Chase him! If you catch up, ask me whatever you want!

“No overtaking today, Comrade General,” the driver said cautiously. – Sure trouble from the traffic police!

- Come on, come on! At least don't lag behind. We’ll jump up to the entrance to the airfield together, and that’s good. Then I’ll intercept him at the entrance!

The decrepit Emka rushed forward in a youthful manner, excitedly rattling both the engine and the body.

- Whom will you intercept? Did he steal anything from you?

- Why did you steal it? Oh my God, I’m looking for Bird! Midshipman Ptukhu, do you understand?

The driver didn't understand anything. And the general thought, worried:

“It was Bird! I saw it clearly. Midshipman, you are my dear! Sea storm! And the gypsy eyes, and the Nakhimov midshipman. Why, it’s all his!”

- Where? Entrance on both left and right! – the driver asked impatiently.

- Eh, honest mother! Let's go right! – the general exclaimed desperately.

Flowerbeds, flower beds, and lawns flashed by, and the expanse of the airfield opened up to the eye. Blue and yellow aviation flags fluttered invitingly over the tower of the Central Aero Club.

Having handed the driver a large piece of paper, the general ran towards the entrance turnstiles. But there was a traffic jam here. Only half an hour later those pressing from behind pushed the general onto the airfield. He approached the rope, behind which spectators were already sitting on the grass. Before him was a sea of ​​heads. Will you find Bird here?

“We need to write to Kosagovsky. Bird, they say, was found and left Novo-Kitezh. – The General sighed excitedly. - No, I’ll wait to write. He, of course, will ask about Anfisa. What will I answer him? We must first find the midshipman and find out everything thoroughly from him. Why get on Viktor Dmitrievich’s nerves ahead of time!”

2

The sky hummed, pulsated, roared from the blows of powerful propellers. The rumble pressed on my eardrums like fingers. From a reinforced concrete runway. multi-engine bombers took off. Taking off after a rapid takeoff, they walked over the airfield in dense columns. It was a magnificent and formidable air march.

Current page: 1 (book has 3 pages in total)

Alexander Muzafarov
Mysterious Kitezh-Grad

© Muzafarov A. A., 2015

© Veche Publishing House LLC, 2015

* * *

Legends and history. Instead of a preface

One of the most famous legends of Russian history is the story of the mysterious city of Kitezh. As if it was founded in the remote Volga forests by Prince George of Vladimir 1
In Ancient Rus', the names Yuri and George had not yet become completely different. Yuri was perceived as a Russified form of the Greek name Georgiy, sometimes chroniclers used an intermediate form of this name - Gyurgiy. In historiography, the Grand Duke of Vladimir is called both Yuri Vsevolodovich and Georgy Vsevolodovich. On the pages of this book the form George will be used.

Vsevolodovich, was large, with three, and who says seven white-stone churches, with a rich and pious population. In the fatal year for Russian history, 1238, Batyevo’s army approached its walls. The brave Prince George and his warriors died in the battle, and the Tatars climbed the city walls, when, through the prayer of the inhabitants, the Lord himself sheltered the city both from the invaders and from our sinful world, and in its place a lake with clean, transparent water arose. And as if even now a pious traveler can hear on the shore of the lake how they are ringing there, in the depths of the bells of the city of Kitezh, which is still in other existence...

At the beginning of the twentieth century, Nikolai Andreevich Rimsky-Korsakov composed the famous opera “The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia”, after which the local legend took a place not only in Russian national, but also in world culture.

The image of the city of Kitezh is used by writers and publicists, philosophers and thinkers. In it they see the beauty of the Russian soul, and the innermost aspirations of the people, and ideas about the ideal, and... and what else they don’t see. Kitezh has become a symbol, and a multi-valued symbol. We can say that everyone is looking for their own city of Kitezh, and therefore the polysemantic symbol again acquires unambiguity as a symbol of something deep, intimate and bright.

But what is behind the legend? Did the city of Kitezh really exist and what fate really befell it? In search of an answer to this question, an inquisitive person will turn to historians and local historians, and they will have something to answer. However, before giving the floor to professionals, let’s try to consider another, no less significant question - the role of historical legend in our understanding of history.

Contrary to popular belief, history is an exact science, as any conscientious historian will readily tell you. Historical knowledge is based on a set of undoubted facts established on the basis of an analysis of numerous historical sources - written documents, artifacts and monuments that have survived to this day, materials from archaeological excavations, etc. The work of a historian consists of collecting historical material and filtering it through a rigid sieve historical criticism, which allows us to highlight bits of real events - historical facts, these primary building blocks of historical knowledge.

A fact is the same scientific quantity as the result of a chemical experiment or a physical experiment. But, unlike a physicist or a chemist, a historian is deprived of the opportunity not only to repeat an experiment, but even to observe it. He reconstructs the facts from someone else’s laboratory journal, which is also an incomplete journal, in which many pages have been torn out, and some, although they have survived, are scorched by fire and covered in blood. Moreover, this journal was not written by a fellow historian, even if he lived a long time ago. No, it was led by a diplomat writing a report to his sovereign, a governor who was inclined to downplay his losses in his report and exaggerate the number of fallen enemies, an official calculating taxes, etc. Each of these people wrote to the best of his knowledge (“the enemy fled unknown where”) and their interests (“It was impossible to hold that place, sir, because there is no water there for the horses”). But there are also polemical, ideological, moralizing, etc. works, where the facts completely fade into the background, if not into the background. Why take them into account? Because there are no others, more reliable. We know about the grandiose war between the ancient Achaean and Asia Minor tribes from the poem of a blind storyteller who lived half a thousand years after it.

But there is another problem. A historian is also a person, and nothing human is alien to him. A chemist, writing down the reaction of dissolving iron in acid in a laboratory journal, feels neither sympathy for the metal nor hatred for the caustic liquid. He deals with inanimate nature. But a person cannot be indifferent to living nature, and especially to the actions of his own kind. Some figures of the past evoke sympathy, others - antipathy, and nothing can be done about it, this is the property of human nature. Can a researcher who is completely indifferent to the actions and figures of people of the past be neutral or, in modern language, objective? But how can you study a subject and remain indifferent to it?

Therefore, it would be absurd to demand the notorious “objectivity” from the historian; this is impossible in principle, and if possible, then at the cost of very poor quality work.

Objectivity cannot be demanded, but integrity can and should be demanded. This is what distinguishes the work of a professional historian from the work of an amateur or dilettante. Sympathy for a historical character will not prevent a conscientious researcher from publishing those facts that will be unsightly for his hero. The main thing for a conscientious historian is not to defend his point of view on events and processes, but to collect and analyze facts. And the fact that someone, based on the same facts, can come to opposing views on the past is only a plus.

Awareness of this dual - rational and at the same time emotional - component of historical knowledge will help us understand how historical legends arise. Unlike oral tradition, which is the transmission of oral memory by inheritance, a legend is the result of conscious creativity. It is composed based on a certain number of historical facts, but subordinating them to an emotionally charged idea. Unlike a fairy tale, a legend takes place in the real world. Her heroes claim reality and a place in history, but appear in the story as the author wants them to be. This is how the fearless Ryazan nobleman Evpatiy Kolovrat appears and destroys the countless regiments of the Batyevs, the city of Korosten burns under the fire-bearing birds of Princess Olga, and this is how the city of Kitezh goes under the water.

Thus, the legend says more about its creators than about the events it is trying to tell about. Therefore, legends are usually studied as sources based on the time of their creation, as monuments of literature, where the thoughts and motives of the author are more important than the events described in the plot.

Usually... But in the case when we have very little information about the era, we cannot neglect even such sources as legend.

But we know very little about the pre-Mongol history of Rus'. How, the reader will object, is it really not enough? What about the chronicles? Epics? Hundreds of years of work by historians and archaeologists - does all this really not allow us to penetrate the thickness of time?

All this is, of course, true. The history of the scientific study of Ancient Rus' begins in the 18th century, the first archaeological excavations - in the first third of the 19th century, and since then scientists have learned a lot. But there is a problem that the best minds are powerless to face - the paucity of sources.

The author of an interesting book about the life of medieval Paris, French historian Simone Roux, complains about the small number of city documents that have survived from the 13th century. But he mentions that researchers have at their disposal such important sources of information as tax registers, real estate registers, just a few dozen written sources, and there is hope for discovering new ones.

For Russian historians, these words can only evoke a feeling of envy - the written material available to them is much less. According to calculations by Dr. Vladimir Andreevich Kuchkin, 8 (eight!) private acts have reached us from the 12th century, and as many as 15 from the 13th century. A total of 23 documents covering two centuries of the history of the entire Russian land.

In the 13th century, Vladimir on Klyazma - the capital city of the main character of the Kitezh legend, Prince Yuri Vsevolodovich - was not inferior in size to Paris. The perimeter of the walls of the Russian city was 7 versts, and the French one - 5 kilometers 300 meters. Apparently, the population was no less. But if the historian of Paris has dozens of public and private documents, then the historian of Vladimir has none! We know that tens of thousands of people lived in the city, but how city life was organized, how people lived, who solved complex issues of the functioning of the city economy, what kind of relationship they had with their prince - we can only guess about this.

Of course, there are consolidated sources - chronicles. But the oldest chronicle that has come down to us, the Laurentian chronicle, was written in 1377. This means that we know about earlier events only in the retelling of authors who sometimes lived centuries away from them.

In our ancient history, guesses and reconstructions occupy a very large place, replacing reliable information. Therefore, historians cannot afford to neglect any source of information, even one as obviously unreliable as a legend.

The Kitezh legend is not only historical, but also geographical and local. The names of settlements, rivers, lakes are mentioned not as a background, but as a direct part of the narrative. The city of Kitezh disappears only in the waters of Lake Svetloyar, and only in them. The lake is not an abstract, almost metaphysical symbol of all-covering waters (although it is also a symbol), but also a real body of water, the presence of which in the story enhances its authenticity. Who in the forest Trans-Volga region did not know Lake Svetloyar?

Local legends are usually considered part of the oral tradition of historical memory, but this is not always the case. Sometimes the plots of literary works penetrate the mass consciousness and become part of local historical legends.

For example, Kolomna local historians note that among the population of the city, stories about the daredevil Toropka, who shot the Mongol Khan Kulkan, and about forty beautiful Kolomna girls burned alive on the funeral pyre of this ill-fated son of Genghis Khan, became widespread. Meanwhile, the source of these “legends” is not the oral memory of our ancestors, but the novel by the writer Vasily Yan “Batu”.

Folklorists of the complex expedition of the USSR Academy of Sciences, which in the 60s of the 20th century searched for the probable site of the Battle of the Ice, noted that, along with great-grandfather’s stories, the film “Alexander Nevsky”, released in 1938

A person cannot remain indifferent to his place of residence; he describes the area around him, drawing information about its history from wherever possible. Geographical names are filled with meaning and history, albeit fictitious - this is how a phenomenon arises that experts call “folk etymology.”

But it happens that a local legend really preserves the memory of events of the distant past. And quite often it was the analysis of this historical information that allowed scientists to make significant discoveries.

Is there any unique information about the events of the 13th century preserved in the Kitezh legend, or did it arise much later and tell about other events? Did the city of Kitezh ever exist? And if yes, then where was he? How is his story connected with the fate of the Grand Duke of Vladimir Yuri Vsevolodovich?

To understand and find answers to these questions, we will have to travel in three dimensions - in space, in time and across the pages of articles and monographs.

Let's not delay, let's get going, reader!

The Foundation for the Study of Historical Perspective for their assistance and support in the writing of this book.

Chapter first. Legend and historians

In order for a trip to an interesting and remarkable place to become truly interesting, and for all the sights to be noticed and inspected, a reasonable person will try to prepare for it in advance. Not limiting himself to a banal guidebook, he will read the stories of those who have been here before, books written by specialists or local historians, and look at photographs, maps and diagrams. With such preparation, you can see much more and remember everything much better. Of course, you can rush to an ancient temple or the ruins of a fortress wall, not knowing anything about their history, be surprised and admire the beauty, and then bite your elbows, because many “elephants” went unnoticed and unseen.

Let’s be like a prudent traveler, and therefore, before heading to the Kitezh places, let’s turn to the works of historians and local historians.

The legend was first published in 1843 in the twelfth (December) issue of the “educational and literary magazine” “Moskvityanin”, the chief editor and publisher of which was the famous Russian historian Mikhail Pogodin. The author of the short article “Kitezh on Lake Svetloyar” was a resident of the district town of Semenov, Stepan Prokhorovich Meledin, who presented the legend as a record of legends existing among local residents.

In fact, the main source of information was the ancient Old Believer manuscript “The Book of the Chronicler,” one of the copies of which ended up in the collection of the Semyonovsky man in the street. The book was considered a secret, and the authorities looked askance at the Old Believer’s creativity. So obliquely that even the publication in Moskvityanin provoked a denunciation from one of the fighters against the Old Believers. The authorities gave the case a go, and the court hearing the case ruled: “... the tradesman Meledin, whose work contains nothing of importance other than unfoundedness,” as innocent; “from trial and investigation “to commit” free.”

Therefore, the full text of the “Book of the Verb Chronicler” was published only in 1862, when both the censorship conditions and the authorities’ policy towards the Old Believers changed.

The personality of Stepan Meledin until recently remained little known to the general public. Only recently, Nizhny Novgorod bibliophile Yuri Grigorievich Galai restored the milestones of the biography of this extraordinary person. He was born in 1786 in the city of Semenov into a family of Old Believers of “respectable behavior” who lived in small trade and arable farming. Stepan Prokhorovich became interested in reading from childhood, started with theological books, then became acquainted with secular ones, then compiled one of the first libraries in the province.

Gradually, Meledin came up with the idea of ​​​​creating a private library, which was supposed to promote education and pay for its contents.

In the district town of Semenov, things did not go well. There were few subscribers who wanted to read books for free - a little more, so the work of the library did not bring the creator either moral or material satisfaction.

In 1844, Stepan Prokhorovich submitted a petition to the Minister of Public Education, in which he asked permission to open his library in Nizhny Novgorod. The consent of the ministry was quickly obtained, and the long history of the first Nizhny Novgorod library began. Even in the provincial town there were not enough readers for the enterprise to become self-sustaining. The owner fell increasingly into debt, but showed persistence and did not close down the business until his death in 1865. After this, his collection became part of the Nizhny Novgorod Public Library, created by the Ministry of Public Education and soon received the support of the city authorities. It is gratifying that our fellow countrymen remembered Stepan Prokhorovich Meledin these days, articles devoted to his life and work appeared, and a special exhibition was held in the Nizhny Novgorod Regional Library.

After its publication in Moskvityanin, the Kitezh legend received mention... in the reports of officials who, on duty, were studying the situation of schismatics in the Nizhny Novgorod province.

In 1854, the “Report on the current state of the schism in the Nizhny Novgorod province” was published, the author of which was the collegiate adviser Pavel Ivanovich Melnikov. In those days, he was known as one of the harsh persecutors of the Old Believers, an excellent official of the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

On the pages of the official “Report”, the official describes in detail the Kitezh legend, localizing its spread around Lake Svetloyar (at that time this name was written separately - Svetly Yar). The manuscript “Kitezh Chronicler” is mentioned as the source of the legend. Melnikov considered the legend itself “historically absurd”, and the veneration of Lake Svetly Yar by the surrounding residents as superstition. In the appendix to the report, the official published another written source of the Kitezh legend - “Message from Father to Son” - a small manuscript written on behalf of a man who found himself in an invisible city and reassuring his family about his fate 2
See the Appendix for the text.

However, Pavel Ivanovich was not only an official, but also a writer, publishing his works under the pseudonym Andrei Pechersky. In the early seventies of the nineteenth century, having long since retired, he began to publish his most famous literary work - the novel-duology “In the Woods” and “On the Mountains”. The first of them beautifully and poetically describes the Kitezh legend. At the same time, it is in no way connected with the Old Believers, but, on the contrary, is considered as an ancient tradition of the “primordial and ancient” Rus'. The author of the novel gave preference to the romantic, ancient part of the legend, ignoring the skeptical attitude of his bureaucratic past.

By the beginning of the twentieth century, the perception of the legend was twofold: historians were skeptical about it and, if they considered it, then in the aspect of the history of the Old Believers, but writers, poets, artists, musicians, following Melnikov-Pechersky, fell under the spell of the legend. Vladimir Korolenko, Ivan Bunin, Apollon Maikov, Mikhail Prishvin and even Maxim Gorky visited Lake Svetloyar.

In 1901–1904, composer Nikolai Andreevich Rimsky-Korsakov created the opera “The Tale of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia”, basing the plot on the Kitezh legend and other monuments of ancient Russian literature - “The Tale of Peter and Fevronia of Murom”, “The Tale of the Mountain of Misfortune” ", etc. The libretto for it was written by Vladimir Ivanovich Belsky. The opera premiered in 1907 on the stage of the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg. It was staged several times in Russian and foreign theaters and entered the golden fund of Russian musical classics.

The scenery for the productions was painted by famous artists, including Ivan Bilibin and Nicholas Roerich. The latter did not fail in his notes to connect the Kitezh legend with tales of underground cities existing among other nations, and to see an occult meaning in it - “The whole earth talks about underground cities, about vaults, about temples that went under water. Both the Russian and the Norman peasants know this equally well. Just as a desert dweller knows about treasures that sometimes sparkle from under the waves of desert sands and again - until time - go underground. Those who remember the due dates come to one fire. We are not talking about superstition, but about knowledge. About knowledge expressed in beautiful symbols."

Thanks to works of art, the legend became widely known and began to be perceived as a legend about ancient times. It was no longer seen as a local schismatic tradition; on the contrary, the involvement of the Old Believers in Kitezh began to be perceived as evidence of the antiquity of history, because the supporters of the old faith in the eyes of the average person looked like the guardians of this antiquity.

The authors of popular books and articles devoted to the Mongol conquest began to mention the Kitezh legend as one of the ancient legends that have come down to us, the authenticity of which has not been confirmed, but which is undoubtedly based on real events.

The spread of this opinion in society forced historians to pay attention to the legend and analyze it from the point of view of historical science.

The most detailed study of this kind was the monograph by V. L. Komarovich, “The Kitezh Legend,” published in 1936. Experience of studying local legends."

Vasily Leonidovich Komarovich was born on January 1, 1894 in the village. Voskresensk, Makaryevsky district, Nizhny Novgorod province, in the family of a doctor. In 1912, V. L. Komarovich graduated from the first classical Nizhny Novgorod gymnasium and entered the Faculty of History and Philology at St. Petersburg University, where he specialized in the study of ancient Russian literature and folklore. The talented student’s scientific supervisors were A.K. Borozdin and A.A. Shakhmatov. The latter recommended Komarovich to remain at the university “to prepare for a professorship.” But on the calendar, 1917 was fatal for Russian history.

Fleeing from revolutionary Petrograd, Komarovich returns to Nizhny Novgorod, where he becomes a teacher at the newly formed Nizhny Novgorod State University. This educational institution appeared as a result of the merger of the Free People's University (created in 1916 on the model of Shanyavsky University in Moscow), the Higher Agricultural Courses and the Polytechnic Institute evacuated from Warsaw. One of the first faculties of UNN was history, but it did not last long - in 1921 it was liquidated, like all history faculties in the country.

V. L. Komarovich returns to Petrograd and goes to work in the department of ancient Russian literature of the Pushkin House. It is here that a monograph about the Kitezh legend is being created.

Studying oral traditions and stories about Kitezh and Svetloyar collected by folklorists, the scientist identified three types of main versions of the legend with a noticeably different plot.

The first of them was associated with ancient pagan beliefs, not Russian, but Mari. The Mari, or, as they were called in ancient Russian sources, “meadow Cheremis,” inhabited these places until the 16th century, when they were mainly assimilated by Russian settlers. In this version of the legend, the city was hiding not from Batu, but from the Turk Girl, a female rapist who gallops around on a wild horse, causing death and destruction.

The second version is connected, on the one hand, with ancient pagan funeral rites, which introduced into it the motif of a mountain hiding those who have departed from the world, i.e., a burial mound, and on the other, with the events of the 16th–17th centuries, including and with the persecution of schismatics. In this version of the legend, it is not the city of Kitezh that is hiding from the villain Batu, but a certain nameless but holy monastery. In some versions of this version of the legend, the main villain is not Batu, but the “wicked king Pyaterim,” in whom the historian identified a real historical person - the Nizhny Novgorod bishop Pitirim (1719–1725), an active opponent of the Old Believers.

Finally, the third version of the legend did not have an independent character, but was a retelling of the “Kitezh Chronicler”. If the first two versions did not go beyond the scope of purely local legends, then the third contained the greatest amount of historical information, and most importantly, it linked the legend with specific events and personalities of Russian history, which is why it attracted the greatest attention of the historian.

Being a student of one of the classics of the science of chronicles A. A. Shakhmatov, V. L. Komarovich used to study the “Book of the Verb Chronicler” the same methods of analyzing literary monuments that were used by his teacher to analyze ancient Russian chronicles 3
For the convenience of the reader, the complete Old Russian text of the “Book of the Verb Chronicler” is given in the Appendix.

He managed to describe twelve lists of the “Book”, of which nine contained the full version of the legend, one, entitled “Chronicle of the murder of the blessed Prince Georgy Vladimirovich”, contains exclusively historical material and ends with a scene of the destruction of Greater Kitezh and the burial of the prince, and two more, in which the last section of the legend, which talks about the miraculous hiding of the city, has a separate title - “The Tale and Recovery of the Hidden City of Kitezh.”

Analysis of the texts allowed Komarovich to build the following sequence of the appearance of written sources about the city of Kitezh:

“The Tale of the Murder of the Righteous Prince Georgy Vladimirovich”;

"Message from father to son";

“The Tale and Recovery of the Hidden City of Kitezh”;

"The Book of the Verb Chronicler."

The latter is a creative compilation of the first three sources with the addition of a certain amount of the author's text.

A detailed study of the features of the texts made it possible to quite accurately determine the place and time of creation of the “Book of the Verb Chronicler.” This happened in the 80-90s of the 18th century among Old Believers-runners, most likely in the village of Sopelki, Yaroslavl province - a traditional center of runners 4
The Runners are one of the sects of the priestless Old Believers. It arose after 1766 from among the schismatics who refused legalization (registration in the schism) and went into an illegal position. The runners refused to perform any civil duties and responsibilities and any form of relationship with society in general. Therefore, supporters of this trend did not acquire property, did not receive documents, refused to pay taxes, military service, etc. They escaped from the authorities’ persecution that arose in such cases by fleeing (hence the name) and going underground. Despite persecution by both the imperial and Soviet authorities, individual communities of runners have survived to this day and still prefer to hide from the world.

V. L. Komarovich attributed the creation of the second and third monuments - “Messages from Father to Son” and “Tales and Sentences” to the very beginning of the 18th century, and considered the Spasoraevsky (Spassky) Kezinsky Monastery, the brethren of which for a long time adhered to the old rite, as the place of creation. which led to the actual destruction of the monastery by the Nizhny Novgorod bishop Pitirim in 1713.

The historian was most interested in the ancient source – “The Tale of the Murder of the Righteous Prince Georgy Vladimirovich.” The peculiarities of the language of the “Tale” made it possible to attribute the creation of this monument to the first half of the 17th century, while it could also be based on more ancient sources. The abundance of local details and the author’s precise knowledge of the geography of the Volga region made it possible to localize his creation to the environs of Gorodets, or more precisely, to the city itself.

The researcher’s attention was attracted by a gross and inexplicable at first glance historical error of the author of the “Chronicle of the Murder”, who not only attributed to Georgy Vsevolodovich the founding of Gorodets (first mentioned in the chronicles sixteen years before the birth of the prince), but also made him the son of the Pskov prince Vsevolod (in baptism - Gabriel) Mstislavich, who died in 1138 and was glorified by the Russian Church as the holy noble prince Vsevolod of Pskov.

According to Komarovich, the indication of the Pskov origin of the main character of “The Chronicler of the Murder” can be explained by the close ties of the Nizhny Novgorod princes with Pskov at the end of the 14th – beginning of the 15th centuries. The very name of Georgy Vsevolodovich is conditional. The image of this prince is collective, and the historian considered his real prototypes to be the princes of the Nizhny Novgorod house, primarily Prince Vasily Kirdyapa and his descendants.

For a history buff of the Russian Middle Ages: Vasily Kirdyapa and his brother Semyon, sons of the Suzdal prince Dmitry Konstantinovich, are known primarily as participants in the events of 1382 associated with the siege of Moscow by the army of Khan Tokhtamysh, who played a very sinister role in them.

After several days of siege of the Russian capital, having become convinced of the inaccessibility of the city walls, Khan Tokhtamysh decided to defeat the inhabitants by cunning. As the ancient “Tale of the Invasion of Tokhtamysh” reports:

“After three days of the siege, on the fourth day in the morning, at the hour of noon, by order of the tsar, the great Tatars and the princes of the Horde, and his advisers, drove up to the city, and with them two princes of Suzdal Vasily and Semyon, the sons of Grand Duke Dmitry of Suzdal. And, approaching the very walls of the city as inviolable ambassadors, they began to say to the people who were in the city: “The king wants to have mercy on you, his people, because you are innocent and there is no reason to put you to death; he did not come to fight with you, but took up arms against the Grand Duke Dmitry Ivanovich, and you are worthy of mercy from him, and he does not demand anything else from you, except that he wants you, having shown him the honor, to come out to meet him with gifts and together with his prince; after all, he wants to see this city, and enter it, and visit it, and he will give you peace and his love, and you will open the city gates for him.” Likewise, the princes of Nizhny Novgorod said: “Believe us, we are your Christian princes, we tell you the same thing and take an oath to that.”

What happened next is well known: believing the oath of the princes, the Muscovites opened the gates, the Tatars burst into the city and killed everyone who was in it.

It is not surprising that after this the Nizhny Novgorod princes could not reconcile with the sovereigns for a long time, and at times were forced to flee and hide from them.

According to V. L. Komarovich, the reason for the creation of the “Chronicle of the Murder” was the events of the late XIV - early XV centuries, when Moscow governors pursued Prince Yuri Vasilyevich Kirdyapin and eventually killed him 5
A similar point of view on the Kitezh legend was expressed by the famous writer and philologist Dmitry Mikhailovich Balashov. Like many Soviet historians, he was of the opinion about the ancient origin of the Kitezh legend, but associated its appearance not with the Mongol invasion of the 13th century, but with the activities of the Moscow princes to subjugate neighboring principalities during the time of Ivan Kalita and his heirs. In his novel “Praise of Sergius,” ancient Kitezh is hidden in the waters of the lake not from the Tatars, but from Moscow tribute collectors.

The researcher considered the description of the road from Gorodets to Svetloyar to be a description of part of the ancient route from Gorodets to the Vyatka lands, where the descendants of Vasily Kirdyapa sometimes found refuge. The scientist suggested that the story of his escape from Gorodets to Vyatka, the pursuit of him by Moscow troops and death after a short battle somewhere on the banks of Kerdenets or Svetloyar formed the basis of the story.

The coincidence of the names of Yuri Vasilyevich or Georgy (Yuri) Vsevolodovich led to the transfer of the events of the 15th century to the 12th, and gradually the Vladimir prince, better known in the Nizhny Novgorod lands, ousted the desperate enemy of Moscow from legend.

Indirect confirmation of this version is the genealogy of the Shuisky princes. The official sovereign's genealogist considered them to be the direct ancestor of Yuri Vasilyevich Kirdyapin, whose sons were first given Shuya as an inheritance. But the Shuiskys themselves considered Georgy Vsevolodovich, the last Grand Duke of Vladimir of pre-Mongol times, to be their ancestor.

V.L. Komarovich suggested that in the area of ​​​​Svetloyar or Kerzhenets there really was a small town - a stronghold on the way from the Volga to the Vyatka land, which became the prototype of Greater Kitezh.

Next, the scientist analyzed the very first part of the “Chronicle of the Murder” and established that the monument is based on an article from a local chronicle, telling about the construction of the Fedorovsky Monastery in Gorodets in 1164 with the participation of Grand Duke Andrei Yuryevich Bogolyubsky and Prince Georgy (Yuri) Vladimirovich of Murom .

V. L. Komarovich devoted the last part of his work to the analysis of the toponym Kitezh, which is not found in other sources. Let us recall that, according to legend, this name is borne not only by the miraculously disappeared city on the banks of Svetloyar, but also by the very real Gorodets on the Volga. However, not a single source known to us calls Gorodets Kitezh. Moreover, its other name is known - Radilov. Where did the name that has become world famous come from?

The scientist drew attention to the fact that in some versions of the legend the name Kitezh is written as Kidesh and even Kidash. The latter may be associated with the mention in the epics of the cities of Kiddish and Kidosh. Komarovich’s particular attention was attracted by the epic about Surovets-Suzdalets, in which the “glorious city of Pokidosh” is mentioned.

Scientists sometimes correlate this epic city with the real village of Kideksha, which is located four miles east of Suzdal. It was here in 1152 that Prince Yuri Vladimirovich, nicknamed Dolgoruky by later historians, set up his residence, building the first white-stone church in the Zalesskaya land in honor of Saints Boris and Gleb.

The dedication was not chosen by chance: according to legend, it was here that the camp of Boris and Gleb was located when the first was Prince of Rostov, and the second was Prince of Murom.

Gradually, a city arose on the site of the princely residence, the remains of whose ramparts are visible to this day. The city was ravaged and burned by Batu's troops, after which it turned into a village, and its white-stone temple became the center of the monastery.

In the very heart of Russia, in the Nizhny Novgorod region, there is Lake Svetloyar - a pearl of Russian nature. This lake is sometimes called the small Russian Atlantis: its history is covered in legends. The unique place poses many mysteries to researchers...

The main Svetloyarsk legend is about the invisible city of Kitezh. The legend says: there is a lake in the Vetluga forests.

It is located in the forest thicket. The blue waters of the lake lie motionless day and night. Only occasionally a light ripple runs through them. There are days when drawn-out singing can be heard from the quiet shores, and the distant ringing of bells can be heard.

A long time ago, even before the advent of the Tatars, Grand Duke Georgy Vsevolodovich built the city of Maly Kitezh (present-day Gorodets) on the Volga, and then, “crossing the quiet and rusty rivers Uzola, Sandu and Kerzhenets,” he went to Lunda and Svetloyar “Wonderful” is the place where the city of Kitezh Bolshoy set itself. This is how the glorious Kitezh city appeared on the shore of the lake. Six domes of churches towered in the center of the city.

Having come to Rus' and conquered many of our lands, Batu heard about the glorious Kitezh-city and rushed to it with his hordes...

When the “evil Tatars” approached Kitezh the Small and killed the prince’s brother in a great battle, he himself hid in the newly built forest city. Batu's prisoner, Grishka Kuterma, could not stand the torture and revealed secret paths to Svetloyar.

The Tatars surrounded the city with a thundercloud and wanted to take it by force, but when they broke through to its walls, they were amazed. Residents of the city not only did not build any fortifications, but did not even intend to defend themselves. The Tatars could only hear the ringing of church bells. Residents prayed for salvation, since they could not expect anything good from the Tatars.
And as soon as the Tatars rushed to the city, abundant springs suddenly gushed out from under the ground, and the Tatars retreated in fear.
And the water kept running and running...

When the sound of the springs died down, in place of the city there were only waves. In the distance shimmered the lonely dome of the cathedral with a cross shining in the middle. She slowly sank into the water.

Soon the cross disappeared too. Now there is a path to the lake, which is called the Batu Trail. It can lead to the glorious city of Kitezh, but not everyone, but only those who are pure in heart and soul. Since then, the city has been invisible, but intact, and the especially righteous can see the lights of religious processions in the depths of the lake and hear the sweet ringing of its bells.

The legend about the city of Kitezh is closely connected with the name of the outstanding Russian writer V.G. Korolenko. Having moved to the Volga, Korolenko visited the Vetluga region, where on the Holy Lake, near the invisible Kitezh City, truth-seekers from among the people - schismatics of various persuasions - gather and conduct passionate debates about faith. This is what he wrote: “I carried away heavy, not joyful impressions from the shores of the Holy Lake, from the invisible, but passionately sought after city of the people... As if in a stuffy crypt, in the dim light of a dying lamp, I spent all this sleepless night, listening to how somewhere behind the wall, someone is reading in a measured voice funeral prayers over the people’s thought that has fallen asleep forever.”

...Judging by how easily Kitezh-grad “migrated” from the legends of the era of the Tatar-Mongol yoke to Old Believer tales, poetry of the Silver Age and the present century, we are rather dealing with a mystical symbol common to Russian culture and always modern. But this is not just a symbol of departure and salvation from the banal “surface”.

We would like to point out one interesting difference between Russian Kitezh and Tibetan Aggarta. If the latter went underground in dark times, then Kitezh, as we know, hid in the lake, under water. This is not accidental - and therefore in the Russian consciousness (and subconscious) all the above-mentioned themes often simply do not know strict “earthly” division and structuring, but exist as a water reflection in which the contours of any “surface” merge and dissolve...