die Orgel im Stephansdom

 

 

What follows was shared by a grandfather to his grandson, just days before his death and was discovered whilst researching for my next publication on Tartaria. I hope you find it both useful and interesting, as we continue to uncover more information about this incredible empire:

What follows is taken from information passed down by a man who identified himself as Tartarian, to his grandson in the final days of his life. He knew that he was close to death and wanted to share what he described as the truth about Tartaria. Moreover, the deliberate dismantling of its civilisation and the fate of those in Russia who continued to either speak about it, or had documents connected to it in their possession. He was clear that this information had been suppressed for decades and that speaking of it openly had carried fatal consequences for many people.

The first entry, dated the 12th of November 1952, stated that what he was about to reveal would be difficult to accept, because it had been hidden and forbidden to discuss for most of his life. These memoirs were discovered decades later at an estate sale in Montreal and had belonged to a woman who emigrated from Russia in 1956, in her 60s and still speaking with a noticeable Russian accent. The documents were contained in a box alongside letters and personal papers, many of which referenced names no longer in use. Some of the material was written in Russian Cyrillic, while other sections appeared to be in an unidentified language that couldn’t be classified. She claimed that her grandmother had instructed her never to ask questions about the documents, nor speak about their contents and the current owner of the material has chosen to remain anonymous.

The man dictating the account was Mikael Sakalov, born in April 1869 in Kazan and died two days after the final entry was recorded. The purchaser of the documents later traced Mikael through online genealogy records and manage to locate his death certificate. At the time of his passing, his only surviving family member was his grandson Viktor, who was 19 years old.

Viktor stated that his grandfather remained mentally sharp until his final moments, was able to recite lengthy passages of Pushkin from memory and perform complex mathematical calculations without hesitation. Mikael had worked for 40 years as a postal clerk, a position that gave him access to sensitive correspondence and administrative material without attracting suspicion, allowing him to observe patterns and information that most people never encountered.

At the beginning of his account, Mikael insisted on one point above all others – he was Tartarian, not Russian and not Tatar. He told Viktor that he believed himself to be the last person alive who had lived inside, what he called a real Tartarian building, that understood its function and witnessed the systematic alteration of these structures. When he died, he said that there would be no one left after him, that remembered the truth, only official versions that bore no resemblance to reality.

Mikael described a Kazan that no longer exists and doesn’t appear in any official historical record. He spoke of a city built from red brick and white stone, where architecture was designed not only for shelter or authority, but for sound. Every major building was crowned with a copper dome that produced audible tones when exposed to wind and atmospheric pressure. He repeatedly used the word “sang”, explaining that the domes generated notes that changed with the weather. According to Mikael, these sounds produced a noticeable effect on the people who lived there, calming anxiety, dissolving anger and creating a sense of balance that felt natural, rather than imposed. The buildings, he said, were not simply structures, but instruments.

He described the Kazan Kremlin not as it appears today, but as it stood before 1897, when its copper domes were replaced with slate roofing. Official records state that the copper had deteriorated, but Mikael rejected this explanation, pointing out that copper doesn’t decay in that manner, but oxidises and actually survives for centuries. He stated that the domes were removed for reasons that were totally unrelated to structural failure.

Mikael’s grandfather had been a coppersmith and worked directly with these domes. He possessed technical drawings detailing the precise dimensions of each tower, the thickness of the copper sheets and the mathematical equations governing the frequencies each dome produced. In 1889, Mikael’s father brought them home – drawn on vellum, they were incredibly old, originating from a time before the modern Russian state, when people understood what these buildings were designed to do.

In 1918, during the Red Terror, Mikael’s father was arrested. His workshop was searched, the drawings and technical plans were confiscated. He was taken to prison in Sviyazhsk and never seen again. Mikael understood that speaking about his father’s work would place him in immediate danger, so he remained silent for decades, carrying the knowledge privately until his deathbed.

The purchaser of the documents decided to investigate this further and uncovered multiple accounts that followed the same pattern. The earliest was dated 1934 in Saint Petersburg, where a woman named Anastasia Volkov, wrote to her sister in Paris describing changes taking place in the city. The letter survived simply because her sister had kept all of Anastasia’s correspondence, which later entered a private collection in Lyon. Anastasia wrote that workers were removing old stone circles, known as boundary stones, believing them to be worthless foundations, when in fact they regulated vibration and frequency. She stated that once they were removed, the city no longer felt alive and seemed unable to function properly. She disappeared shortly after writing the letter, no death certificate was ever issued and her sister’s subsequent replies were returned unopened, marked “addressee unknown”.

In Tobolsk in 1929, a schoolteacher named Dmitri Petrov was arrested for anti-Soviet propaganda and mystical thinking. According to NKVD files, his crime consisted of lecturing students on the idea that old buildings were designed to perform specific functions and that this knowledge had been deliberately suppressed. He was reported by three of his students, arrested the following day, sentenced to ten years of hard labour and declared dead later that year. An interrogator’s note described him as delusional regarding architecture and noted that he had died during transit.

In Samara in 1945, a civil engineer named Ivan Krosov, submitted a post-war reconstruction report. Within it, he described buildings scheduled for demolition that possessed foundations extending far deeper than structurally necessary, arranged in circular rather than linear patterns and containing metallic inclusions, possibly copper or bronze. He recommended preservation for further study, which was denied and the buildings were demolished – a later report by the same engineer omitted all mention of these anomalies, adopting a purely technical tone devoid of any analysis.

In Yekaterinburg in 1923, an Orthodox priest named Father Grigori, recorded in his diary the removal of all church bells in the city under Bolshevik orders. Although officially intended for melting, the bells were carefully measured and their tones recorded. An elderly woman named Martha later told him that her grandfather had been a bell founder and that the bells were tuned to specific healing frequencies. She was taken away shortly afterward and Father Grigori also disappeared from all records the following year.

Mikael also told Viktor that during his childhood, some of the older community still spoke a language that wasn’t Russian, Tatar, or any known Volga dialect, yet sounded superficially Russian despite being differed in grammar, vowel structure and conceptual range. Viktor recorded several words phonetically, which at the time couldn’t be expressed succinctly in Russian:

Crosnota – doesn’t just refer to the colour red, it’s frequency when used specifically to describe certain bricks. Mikael said that his grandmother would touch a brick and say “Ito crosnota” and his father would then know exactly which bricks to select for a project.

Stoania – not just standing or remaining upright, but standing in correct relationship and used to describe the position of buildings, relative to each other. Mikael said the older people would look at a new building and say “Ono staonia”, meaning it wasn’t in correct standing and its position relative to other buildings was wrong, ultimately breaking the pattern, which disrupted something.

Zovonkost – this isn’t just resonance or quality, but specifically the quality of the actual resonance that heals, used to describe bells, domes and certain architectural features. his grandmother would stand in a church and listen to the bells and say “Zonost Sabaya” meaning the healing resonance is weak and something was wrong with the tuning.

Duchakanyan – literally meant the “soul of stone” and the memory held within. It’s used when referring to old buildings, with the belief that the stones remember what they were built for, even if people forget.

Remyadu – represented the time before, not just the past but the time before something changed, before something was lost. His grandmother used this phrase constantly and said that we knew the people differently.

Mikael’s grandmother, who was born in 1809 and died in 1891, spoke this language fluently. Before her death she told him that no one would speak it properly once she was gone and made him memorise, what she called instructions rather than prayers, intended for the buildings, should anyone ever remember how to use them again. These phrases were later examined by a linguist at McGill University in Montreal, who concluded that they didn’t correspond to any documented language and exhibited inverted harmonic structures inconsistent with known linguistic families.

Mikael described how cities including Kazan, Samara, Tobolsk, Yekaterinburg, Omsk, Tomsk, Perm and Ufa, had been constructed according to a precise geometric grid. Using survey maps, his father had demonstrated how major buildings formed equilateral triangles, with 60 degree angles and distances corresponding to both the golden and silver ratios. From the 1920s onward, these structures were altered or destroyed, breaking the grid and disrupting what Mikael described as “the regulating system of the cities”.

He claimed that before these changes, temperatures were milder, illness was rarer and epidemics often spared these cities. His mother kept detailed records over three decades, noting rising infant mortality, declining health and reduced lifespan following the alterations.

The documents also reference a paper published in 1896, by Wilhelm Schäfer of the University of Dresden, titled “Acoustic Anomalies of Tartar Architecture”. Schäfer spent six months in Kazan measuring the acoustic properties of buildings, concluding that the structures functioned as resonators, tuned to harmonic ratios capable of influencing atmospheric conditions. The paper was never cited again and Schäfer published nothing further before disappearing.

The final diary entry, dated the 16th of November 1952, records two men visiting Viktor’s apartment, confiscating his grandfather’s books, tools and documents, then warning him never to speak of Tartaria again.

Viktor emigrated to Canada in 1956, never mentioning what his grandfather had told him, the diary or translating it. His granddaughter discovered it after his death in 2007 and placed it in an estate box, where it remained until its purchase in Montreal in 2019, 27 years after Mikael’s death.