Bykhov population. Bykhov

Rivers K: Settlements founded in 1370

Story

Here was one of the best ludvisarenas of the 16th-18th centuries, where craftsmen of the highest qualification made cannons, cannonballs, bullets and much more, without which it was simply impossible to live in Europe in the Middle Ages. At the foundry cannon workshop there was also the famous Bykhov weapons school.

Bykhov (regional center of the region, a city on the right bank of the Dnieper). Known as Old Bykhov according to documents from the 14th century. It was a privately owned settlement of the Lithuanian prince Svidrigailo (XV century), then passed to the princes Gashtolds. In 1542, the possession of the Khodkevich magnates (XVI century), Lev Sapega became the owner of the city.

culture

Attractions

Bykhov Prison.jpg

Bykhov prison. The building of the former women's gymnasium.

Byhawski zamak 01.jpg

Ruins of Bykhov Castle

Byhawskaja trajeckaja carkva 01.Jpg

Trinity Church

Byhawskaja synagoga 01.Jpg

former synagogue

Transport

Railway station: on the line Mogilev - Zhlobin. Roads: connected with Mogilev, Rogachev and with the highways Mogilev - Gomel, Mogilev - Bobruisk.

see also

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Notes

Literature

• Khobotov N. P. Bykhov. - Mn., 1989.

Links

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An excerpt characterizing Bykhov

Fok the barman was the most angry person in the whole house. Natasha loved to try her power over him. He did not believe her and went to ask if it was true?
- Oh, this young lady! said Foka, feigning a frown at Natasha.
No one in the house sent out so many people and gave them so much work as Natasha. She could not see people with indifference, so as not to send them somewhere. It was as if she was trying to see if she would get angry, if one of them would pout at her, but people did not like to fulfill anyone's orders as much as Natasha's. “What should I do? Where should I go? Natasha thought as she slowly walked down the corridor.
- Nastasya Ivanovna, what will be born from me? she asked the jester, who, in his kutsaveyka, was walking towards her.
- From you fleas, dragonflies, blacksmiths, - answered the jester.
“My God, my God, it’s all the same. Ah, where should I go? What should I do with myself? - And she quickly, clattering her feet, ran up the stairs to Vogel, who lived with his wife on the top floor. Vogel had two governesses, and there were plates of raisins, walnuts, and almonds on the table. The governesses talked about where it was cheaper to live, in Moscow or Odessa. Natasha sat down, listened to their conversation with a serious, thoughtful face, and stood up. “The island of Madagascar,” she said. “Ma da gas car,” she repeated each syllable distinctly, and without answering m me Schoss’s questions about what she was saying, she left the room. Petya, her brother, was also upstairs: he and his uncle arranged fireworks, which he intended to set off at night. - Petya! Petka! she shouted to him, “take me downstairs. c - Petya ran up to her and turned his back. She jumped on top of him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he jumped up and ran with her. “No, no, it’s the island of Madagascar,” she said, and, jumping off it, went down.
As if she had bypassed her kingdom, tested her power and made sure that everyone was submissive, but still boring, Natasha went into the hall, took a guitar, sat in a dark corner behind a cabinet and began to pluck the strings in the bass, making a phrase that she remembered from one opera heard in St. Petersburg together with Prince Andrei. For outsiders, something on her guitar came out that had no meaning, but in her imagination, because of these sounds, a whole series of memories was resurrected. She sat at the cupboard, fixing her eyes on the streak of light falling from the pantry door, listening to herself and remembering. She was in a state of remembrance.
Sonya went to the buffet with a glass across the hall. Natasha looked at her, at the gap in the pantry door, and it seemed to her that she was remembering that light was falling through the gap from the pantry door and that Sonya had passed with a glass. "Yes, and it was exactly the same," thought Natasha. Sonya, what is it? Natasha shouted, fingering the thick string.
- Oh, you're here! – shuddering, said Sonya, came up and listened. - I do not know. Storm? she said timidly, afraid of making a mistake.
“Well, she shuddered in exactly the same way, came up in the same way and smiled timidly when it was already,” Natasha thought, “and in exactly the same way ... I thought that something was missing in her.”
- No, this is the choir from the Water Carrier, do you hear! - And Natasha finished singing the motive of the choir in order to make Sonya understand it.
– Where did you go? Natasha asked.
- Change the water in the glass. I'm painting the pattern now.
“You are always busy, but I don’t know how,” said Natasha. - Where is Nikolai?
Sleeping, it seems.
“Sonya, you go wake him up,” said Natasha. - Say that I call him to sing. - She sat, thought about what it meant, that it all happened, and, without resolving this issue and not at all regretting it, she was again transported in her imagination to the time when she was with him, and he, with loving eyes looked at her.
“Oh, I wish he would come soon. I'm so afraid it won't! And most importantly: I'm getting old, that's what! There will be no more what is now in me. Or maybe he will come today, he will come now. Maybe he came and sits there in the living room. Maybe he arrived yesterday and I forgot. She got up, put down her guitar and went into the living room. All the household, teachers, governesses and guests were already sitting at the tea table. People stood around the table - but Prince Andrei was not there, and there was still the old life.
“Ah, here she is,” said Ilya Andreevich, seeing Natasha come in. - Well, sit down with me. But Natasha stopped beside her mother, looking around, as if she was looking for something.
- Mother! she said. “Give it to me, give it to me, mother, hurry, hurry,” and again she could hardly restrain her sobs.
She sat down at the table and listened to the conversations of the elders and Nikolai, who also came to the table. “My God, my God, the same faces, the same conversations, the same dad holds a cup and blows the same way!” thought Natasha, feeling with horror the disgust that rose in her against all the household because they were still the same.
After tea, Nikolai, Sonya and Natasha went to the sofa room, to their favorite corner, in which their most intimate conversations always began.

“It happens to you,” Natasha said to her brother when they sat down in the sofa room, “it happens to you that it seems to you that nothing will happen - nothing; that all that was good was? And not just boring, but sad?
- And how! - he said. - It happened to me that everything was fine, everyone was cheerful, but it would occur to me that all this was already tired and that everyone needed to die. Once I didn’t go to the regiment for a walk, and there was music playing ... and I suddenly became bored ...
“Ah, I know that. I know, I know, - Natasha picked up. “I was still little, so it happened to me. Do you remember, since they punished me for plums and you all danced, and I sat in the classroom and sobbed, I will never forget: I was sad and felt sorry for everyone, and myself, and I felt sorry for everyone. And, most importantly, I was not to blame, - said Natasha, - do you remember?
“I remember,” Nikolai said. - I remember that I came to you later and I wanted to console you and, you know, I was ashamed. We were awfully funny. I had a bobblehead toy then and I wanted to give it to you. Do you remember?
“Do you remember,” Natasha said with a thoughtful smile, how long, long ago, we were still very young, our uncle called us into the office, back in the old house, and it was dark - we came and suddenly it was standing there ...
“Arap,” Nikolai finished with a joyful smile, “how can you not remember? Even now I don’t know that it was a black man, or we saw it in a dream, or we were told.
- He was gray, remember, and white teeth - he stands and looks at us ...
Do you remember Sonya? Nicholas asked...
“Yes, yes, I also remember something,” Sonya answered timidly ...
“I asked my father and mother about this arap,” said Natasha. “They say there was no arap. But you do remember!
- How, as now I remember his teeth.
How strange, it was like a dream. I like it.
- Do you remember how we rolled eggs in the hall and suddenly two old women began to spin on the carpet. Was it or not? Do you remember how good it was?
- Yes. Do you remember how daddy in a blue coat on the porch fired a gun. - They sorted through, smiling with pleasure, memories, not sad senile, but poetic youthful memories, those impressions from the most distant past, where the dream merges with reality, and laughed quietly, rejoicing at something.
Sonya, as always, lagged behind them, although their memories were common.
Sonya did not remember much of what they remembered, and what she remembered did not arouse in her that poetic feeling that they experienced. She only enjoyed their joy, trying to imitate it.
She took part only when they recalled Sonya's first visit. Sonya told how she was afraid of Nikolai, because he had cords on his jacket, and her nanny told her that they would sew her into cords too.
“But I remember: they told me that you were born under cabbage,” said Natasha, “and I remember that then I did not dare not to believe, but I knew that this was not true, and I was so embarrassed.
During this conversation, the maid's head poked out of the back door of the divan. - Young lady, they brought a rooster, - the girl said in a whisper.
“Don’t, Polya, tell them to take it,” said Natasha.
In the middle of conversations going on in the sofa room, Dimmler entered the room and approached the harp in the corner. He took off the cloth, and the harp made a false sound.
“Eduard Karlych, please play my favorite Monsieur Filda’s Nocturiene,” said the voice of the old countess from the drawing room.
Dimmler took a chord and, turning to Natasha, Nikolai and Sonya, said: - Young people, how quietly they sit!
“Yes, we are philosophizing,” said Natasha, looking around for a minute, and continued the conversation. The conversation was now about dreams.
Dimmler began to play. Natasha inaudibly, on tiptoe, went up to the table, took the candle, carried it out, and, returning, quietly sat down in her place. It was dark in the room, especially on the sofa on which they sat, but the silver light of a full moon fell on the floor through the large windows.
“You know, I think,” Natasha said in a whisper, moving closer to Nikolai and Sonya, when Dimmler had already finished and was still sitting, weakly plucking the strings, apparently in indecision to leave or start something new, “that when you remember like that, you remember, you remember everything , until you remember that you remember what was even before I was in the world ...
“This is metampsikova,” said Sonya, who always studied well and remembered everything. “The Egyptians believed that our souls were in animals and would go back to animals.
“No, you know, I don’t believe that we were animals,” Natasha said in the same whisper, although the music ended, “but I know for sure that we were angels there somewhere and here, and from this we remember everything.” …
- May I join you? - Dimmler said quietly approached and sat down to them.
- If we were angels, why did we get lower? Nikolai said. - No, it can't be!

This is not the kind of history that textbooks write about and chronicles shoot, with soulless figures and dry facts. This is not the history of the 57th Red Banner Smolensk Naval Missile-Carrying Air Division of the Baltic Fleet and the military camp of Bykhov-1. This is the story of the people who lived, served and worked here. This is my family's story. This is my story.

- Grandpa, why doesn't the town have its own name?
- So that the enemies do not know that he is.

On the maternal side, what to hide, and on the paternal side, too, I am a hereditary peasant woman. My family comes from a distant Udmurt village with the funny name of Muki-Kaksi, which, by the way, I have never been to before. The first relative there who flew to the Belarusian Bykhov - literally, together with the air division - was my grandfather's older brother. Here he subsequently dragged the youngest, complete with a very young wife and a young daughter. Soon my grandparents got their own housing, a motorcycle with a sidecar and gave birth to another child. Take root, that is. And even though Bykhov is not my hometown, it is the city of my childhood, the destination of every vacation. And the former military town is a place where I periodically return for nostalgia.

Like any self-respecting military unit, Bykhov-1 was separated from the outside world barbed wire, trench and checkpoint. Probably an excellent defense against enemy sabotage. But in no way an obstacle for their own, especially in the country of hardened partisans. Both the civilians who lived in the military camp and the military who lived in the city did not want to wind up additional miles along the way "work-home". And you yourself will guess exactly where and how far they saw the patrol. My grandmother was even once taken to the commandant's office on such an occasion, to find out her identity. But all her life she was in amateur performances, she even went to Bulgaria with concerts, she could not soak it even more.

Remains of the former "Berlin Wall", which once divided Bykhov into two parts

Personally, I'm only made of wire and trenches checkpoint remember. In the days when I had not yet exchanged milk teeth for molars, there was no hot water supply in the city apartment of my grandfather and grandmother as a fact. And every week the grandfather took the family out for a bath in the shower room of the boiler station of the military town, in the "stoker" in the popular way. In front of the barrier, he turned off the car and presented a pass. On what basis we got to a military facility is still a mystery to me. After the disbandment of the unit, the checkpoint building was empty for a long time, only a turntable reminding of its former significance. And now there is a classic county cafe with a loud name "Admiral" and paper posters "Sushi. Pizza" on the windows.

When V stands for Victory

As in any more or less large Soviet settlement, the military town of Bykhov-1 had its own central square with Lenin at the head. It was called Heroes Square and in addition to the monuments to Ilyich, Chapaev, Frunze, Kalinin and Kirov, there were another three dozen busts of Heroes of the Soviet Union. By the way, this is probably the only place in the town that has not changed much in four decades.

"Forever young, forever..." (c) Semantic Hallucinations

perspective

Somehow ... unexpectedly monumental chtoli

In ordinary cities, behind the monument to Lenin, there was certainly a district council. In the military town House of officers. Children's circles worked here and concerts were organized, movies were played and dances were held on weekends. Now here is the House of Culture of the microdistrict, and its functional purpose is almost the same. Unless there is a separate cinema for showing films.

According to the good Belarusian tradition, only the facade of the building has been put in order.
The battered brickwork of the ends remembers Tsar Pea, the youth of my grandfather

The red brick houses next to the House of Officers and the Heroes' Square are still popularly called generals' houses, once the highest command staff lived in them. For younger ranks and simpler families, there were multi-apartment two-story buildings and Finnish summer houses for three families with amenities on the street, affectionately referred to as "Shanghai". Later, in addition to them, several typical five-story buildings were built, lined with small blue tiles, one standard project for thousands of military camps.

Yards are full of flowers

Sweetness not associated with a military garrison

Some kind of Italian courtyard

Typical "Shanghai" house. This was a kindergarten.
And in exactly the same neighborhood lived my grandfather, grandmother, mother, aunt and two more families

The road to the headquarters of the division. On the right - the former houses for the families of military personnel ...

... on the left - sailor barracks

By the way, these days, individual barracks from the inside look like this

And like this

In the thicket next door - what's left of the sailor's club

One of the barracks was renovated and turned into offices

Of course, not everything is in such desolation as individual barracks. A bit of magic and agroglamour - and the former division headquarters turned into an art school, sanitary part- to the lyceum, and bath... and remained a bath.

Division Headquarters = Art School

Infirmary = Lyceum

Bath

Now the stadium looks more like a big withered lawn

Two regiments were stationed on the territory of the military garrison, which means that there were a lot of mouths. That's why catering departments there were several: an officer's canteen, a canteen for pilots, a sailor's canteen...

One of the catering establishments. Apparently a sailor's canteen

And we are against it

On the site of the officer's canteen there is a sausage factory "Belatmit"

And the former dining room is slightly larger

Something boarded up right next to the dining room.
But it's not about him, it's about the trees. They are everywhere and correct: tall, densely green, with huge buds.

The military town had its own "road of life" - railway line, through which the garrison was supplied jet fuel kerosene, right? and all that is usually required by military units, I just don’t know what.

I wonder how comfortable it was to live in this "house by the road" during the period of intensive exploitation of the branch?

Ramp with fuel drain system

Boiler room and water tower

Some kind of outbuilding. On the end was written "I love Sasha", but I do not miss such inscriptions.
You have probably already seen instagram

Undoubtedly, the best part of the former garrison is military airfield. "Not only that, but the largest in Europe," my grandfather used to say. And Google confirms that grandfather was right: at one time, the Bykhov airfield occupied second place in the Union and third in the world. Of course, I didn’t come here as a child, they didn’t let women with children in here at all. But after the collapse along the take-off and further along the taxiways into the forest - past the caponiers, shelters and bomb storages of nuclear weapons - my grandfather drove us into the forest for raspberries and mushrooms.

Now you can get to the airfield either along the path of least resistance - along Aviation Street, past the housing and communal services, located on the site of the former fleet of vehicles, and the police department, which took preflight building. Or, like us, past the ramp, along the dismantled railway tracks, someone's even rows of potatoes and destroyed checkpoints. The path is little traveled, confusing, but we are not looking for easy ones.

We suspected the former checkpoint in this dilapidated booth

Access roads to VVP. Tired woman...

By the way, these concrete slabs are now Bykhov's "highlight".
Slowly dismantling the town, they, instead of asphalt and paving slabs, pave footpaths

Bykhov military airfield two runways - small and basic. From here, military aircraft flew with equal success both to the Arctic Ocean and to the Bosphorus Strait. “But the Americans are still scratching their heads about where and why the sailors are in Bykhov,” the grandfather chuckled.

Small airfield runway

It is truly breathtaking here. No false hyperbole

mission control center

Once upon a time, this jungle near the Control Center was a garden. With a neat hedge, apple trees, thujas and lilies.
The carnations are still blooming

Remains of Bykhov's open caponiers

From this, sand was mined for the needs of the city. And now it's a home for swallows

On the runways of the former military airfield, a new life, previously unknown to him, is advancing from all sides. Behind the caponiers, vegetable gardens are growing green, logging companies have settled on the taxiways, a new residential microdistrict is being completed with a view directly to the airfield. And now, apart from birds, only delta-, para- and some other glider pilots fly over the airfield itself.

There, in front, behind a potato plantation and trees, is an airstrip.

Some active business. And the take-off rests right on it

View from the runway to new residential buildings

Life does not stand still, and that's all it is. But sometimes I really want the happy black-and-white pictures from the family album to become a reality for at least a minute.

Here is a map of Bykhov with streets. It is part of the Mogilev region of Belarus. We look at a detailed map of Bykhov with house numbers and streets. Real time search and weather today.

More about the streets of Bykhov on the map

A detailed map of the city of Bykhov in good quality shows all the objects in the region, including the street. Iskaliev and Gagarin. The city is located near.

For a detailed examination of the territory of the entire Mogilev region, it is enough to change the scale of the online scheme +/-. Here is an interactive map of the city of Bykhov and the region, move its center to find the streets - Lenin and Gorky.

You will find all the necessary detailed information about the location of urban infrastructure in the city - shops and houses, squares and roads. City st. Bykhova - Zheleznodorozhnaya Sovetskaya is also in sight.

Nearby are settlements: Mogilev, Bobruisk, Zhlobin.

Satellite map of Bykhov (Bikhov) with Google search is waiting for you in its section. You can use the Yandex search to find the required house number on the map of the city and the Mogilev region of Belarus in real time. Previously, it was also determined