Within the town almost every old building has its legends. Very diverse are those connected with the Lobnoe Mesto on the Grand Square. It derived its name--literally "the place of a skull"--from the Golgotha that was erected there for the Easter Passion play which was performed yearly before the church of the Trinity disappeared. From time immemorial it has been _the_ place of public assembly, being to Moscow what St Paul's Cross was to old London, and the _perron_ to Liége. Therefore, as all who have studied the migration of symbols will know, not only is it of very early origin, but associated with stories in some form common to all peoples.
Another almost universal superstition is in Moscow attached to the Sukharev Bashnia, which is supposed to be the feminine complement of the Ivan Veliki tower in the Kremlin. The people call the Sukharev the _jena_ (wife) of Ivan, and, according to tradition, Jack and Jenny get nearer to each other every year.
Visitors for whom folk-lore has no attraction will look for the picturesque in Moscow. The most characteristic view, the prospect the tourist expects, is that seen by turning westward along the boulevard from the Lubianka, and keeping along the south footpath, near the wall, watch the old town appear little by little as the brow of the hill is reached. Houses--of all sorts and colours--a façade like that of a classic temple, domes blue, green and golden, the red tower of a Chastok, a medley of roofs and walls, all these will appear framed in the foliage of the trees on the boulevards, and those overhanging the walls of the Rojdestvenka Convent, until the valley of the Neglinnaia is right below and the crosses and domes of the Petrovski Monastery are disclosed to view. Then it is time to cross the road to the centre of the boulevard and see Moscow unfold itself--walls and towers changing like the coloured fragments in a kaleidoscope. Opposite, where the bank rises to the Strastnoi Monastery, was once the old village of Vissotski--older, it is said, than Moscow town, or Kremlin, or even the hall of Kuchkovo and the twelfth century hamlet on the Chisty Prud at the back.
Again, ascend the belfry of St Nikita in the Goncharevskaya; time--the very early morning, and see the rising sun glitter on the domes of the Kremlin, and the churches of the Bielo Gorod; or, when it has long passed the meridian, watch the afterglow reflected from the thousand domes, tinting the white walls from the balcony of Krinkin's on the Hill of Salutation. Stay on and watch the great white town, silent, reposeful and glorious, fade into the haze of the "white-night"; see it shimmering in the moonlight, or the glare of midday sun; sparkling feebly in the blue star light, or glowing like a new-cast ingot in the blackness of winter's midnight; see it how, when and where you may, solve the enigma of its vitality if you can--but neither doubt its strength, nor question its beauty.