Kings, Grand Dukes, Town Councils and Tsars: A Brief Excursion to Historical Northeastern Europe 3
TALLINN
It was cold, but sunny, and there are very few people in the Old Town. It seems the tourist season doesn’t start until well into June and given the temperature toward the end of May, I can understand why.
Old Town Tallinn is almost a completely intact medieval town. While the city was bombed in WWII by the Russians and over 600 civilian lives were lost, ‘only’ about 10% of the walled city was affected. There aren’t any purely parallel streets here, but rather windy paths that are fun to wander through as many of the buildings have maintained a 15th -16th C look. The churches are, unfortunately, in various stages of disrepair or are undergoing renovations with scaffolding covering up the spires, but they are all functioning and many of them had organists rehearsing for evening concerts when I went in. While the Gothic churches were once Roman Catholic, many of them are now Lutheran or a mix of various Protestant denominations that were thrown together during Soviet times. Even though these churches often carry saints’ names or are named after the Virgin Mary, images of the saints and/or the Mother of God are no longer visible unless they are carved on the stone tombs or in the walls. Mary is even missing from the center of the Brent Nokte 1483 altar in the Holy Ghost Church, and this seems especially odd as the Gothic winged altar was intended to highlight her. Instead of an image of Mary in the Cathedral Church of St. Mary’s (now called the Dome Church) in Toombae, the walls are lined with heralds from numerous Teutonic knights. This, though, seems appropriate as Toombea was the heart of the Teutonic Order’s residence in the city. Their church is just a short walk away from the Kirk in de Kök fortification complex which has huge walls and towers that separate the lower town from Toombae, the upper town, with the castle that now houses the Parliament. Across from the Parliament is the Russian Orthodox Alexander Nevsky Cathedral that was built in the late 19th C to look like a 17th C Russian cathedral with five colorful onion shaped towers. There is an older, simpler Russian Orthodox Church in the lower town, St. Nicholas, which is probably built upon an earlier 13th C wooden structure that was destroyed by one of the many town fires. The upper class lived on the hill, while the merchants and tradespeople were below. The lower town was governed by a Town Council in the Town Hall. There are a few paths linking the two, including one that called the long leg, which goes through a tower gate and is large enough for carts, horses and even cars. The short leg consists of stairs and is a bit steeper, although the height differential isn’t much. There is also now a wide staircase going from Freedom Square outside the town walls; this is the main way to get to Kirk in de Kök Fortress Museum, which one passes on the way to Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, the castle and gardens. The center of Old Town is the Main Square by the Town Hall. The square is fairly large, bright and airy, which is a nice contrast to the narrower windy streets that lead to it. For the most part, the buildings are painted in various light colors and together they convey a sense of timeless community. Each area of town was given to a particular ethnic or religious group, i.e., Russians, Teutons, Estonians, as well to particular guilds, but together they formed the city’s culture.
The town’s museums gave a good overview of the political struggles the people of the region have had to deal with starting not long after the town was founded in probably the 10th C. By the 13th, the Danes invaded, followed by the Teutons, the Swedes, the Muscovy Rus, then again the Swedes and Russians, until Estonia finally had its independence in 1918, only to be lost again in 1940 to the Soviets, then in 1941 to the Nazis, and again in 1944 to the Soviets. By 1991, when they at last regained their independence, it seemed they gave a huge sigh of relief. When I asked how the people felt about the war in Ukraine right now, I repeatedly heard a one word answer: panic. The museum exhibits tell of the horrors inflicted upon the people especially by the Russian and Soviet armies, the looting, wanton destruction of property, torture and rape of the citizens. The Bastion Passage beneath Kirk in de Kök has placards that describe the terror of the citizens during the bombing and it is precisely that which is occurring now just kilometers away from here in Ukraine.
All three countries, and four if one includes Latvia, where I am not going on this trip, managed to get their independence from their Russian overlords in 1918, only to lose it again a few decades later. Each of these countries, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, have museums that showcase the horrors of the KGB prisons in their capital cities and there is clearly no love lost for the former oppressors. The Russian invasion into Ukraine is opening old, and fairly recent, historical wounds. Respect for European values are part of the fabric of these nations, regardless of some of the latest more right wing tendencies in Poland, and there is no way they want any foreign power to have jurisdiction over them ever again.
From the Baltics, I took a ferry across the sea to Helsinki, another city that was ruled by the Russians, but this time, not by the Soviets.
