The story of this love so amazed contemporaries that it was immortalized in the folklore of German colonists in the form of song ballads. For the first time in literature, this legend was recounted in the memoirs of the writer Lev Uspensky. According to the version in the author’s "Notes of an Old St. Petersburger," in one of the German colonies located in the suburb of the city—Lesnoy—there once lived two families. One belonged to a young man named Karl, and the other to the beautiful Emilia. The young people were madly in love with each other, but the girl’s parents, upon learning of their love, refused to consent to their marriage—Karl, in the mother’s opinion, did not earn enough yet. Ten years passed, Karl and Emilia again asked for parental consent to marry, but were refused again. Another twenty years passed, and the lovers once more asked the girl’s parents for permission to marry, but again heard a firm "no." Then, desperate to gain their parents’ consent, Karl and Emilia took each other’s hands and threw themselves into a pond. When the drowned were pulled from the water the next day, everyone saw that even in death Karl and Emilia still held hands. Not even death could separate them. On the advice of the local pastor, parishioners named a street in the settlement after them to commemorate such an amazing love and equally amazing obedience to parents...

There are other versions of this story—it is believed that Karl and Emilia were indeed young, and they could have ended their lives in different ways. According to one version, they drowned in a pond; according to another, they took poison together; and according to a third, they shot themselves.

However, legend is legend, but archival materials confirm that this story really happened. In 1916, Sergey Bezbakh, a member of the Lesnoy study circle at the Commercial School, found a local colonist-watchman who remembered that tragic case. It turned out that the young man’s name was not Karl at all, but Louis Bruderer, and the girl was Emilia Caretan (this is how it was recorded in the translation from memoirs written in German, although in the original the surname sounded like Keritin). Their bodies were found early in the morning on Thursday, August 4, 1855, in the Bekleshov forest, near peat bogs in the direction of Pargolovo and Murino.

According to recollections, "they lay there from Sunday evening for several days and showed all signs of decomposition. She was less disfigured, although a whole world of insects was devouring both corpses; his face was colored greenish-blue, making it unrecognizable. Bullets passed through the hearts of both bodies. She died instantly; he apparently suffered greatly." Upon inspection of the scene, 18 bullets were found in a box on the young man, a wallet with 2 rubles 85 kopecks in silver, a letter addressed to his beloved, a dagger in the coat pocket, and under the coat—a bottle half-filled with gunpowder.

According to the old-timer, the reason for such a "sad act," when apparently Karl first shot Emilia and then killed himself, was the mother’s refusal to consent to the marriage, as well as the fact that fate destined Karl to become a soldier. Let us recall that at that time the Crimean War was underway. After the autopsy, according to the same recollections, the bodies of the deceased were placed in two coffins and buried in a grave at the edge of the forest. "The grave was decorated daily with greenery and flowers, the arrangement forming a cross. Later, a simple cross was erected there."

The existence of Karl and Emilia’s grave is a reliable and indisputable fact. On maps of St. Petersburg from the early 20th century, the exact location of the grave is marked (for some reason it was called a "monument")—at the intersection of the current Tikhoretsky Prospect and Gidrotekhniki Street. Old photographs have also been preserved—a series of pre-revolutionary postcards depicting the grave existed. According to the memories of old residents, this burial was one of Lesnoy’s attractions and a place of worship for the youth. Fresh flowers were always laid on the grave.

It should be noted that in the view of the local Lutheran colonists, Karl and Emilia were considered, first and foremost, suicides—which is why they were buried separately: burial of suicides was not allowed in the common cemetery. At that time, in the mid-19th century, the forest stretched over the entire area north of the current Ploshchad Muzhestva (Square of Courage). These places were then remote and rarely visited.

...Here is how historian Pylyaev described Karl and Emilia’s grave in 1898: "Above the grave is a log structure of three tiers, painted green, on which stands a fairly tall green wire fence with a lock, and under this mesh flowers are planted on the grave." The monument itself was a simple metal cross with a plaque inscribed in Russian and German: "Karl and Emilia. Quietly stand on this spot and offer a prayer with a tear. You are in darkness, they are in light. Do not disturb the peace of pure love. Summer 1855."

Sometime later, in the 1910s, a street named Karl and Emilia appeared in the dacha suburb. Uspensky was wrong: it was not a settlement colonist street, and it received its name only almost half a century after their death. Toponymists believe it originated from a forest path leading from the lovers’ grave.

One of the earliest mentions of this street can be found in the student newspaper "Polytechnic" from January 1912: "Student gives lessons. Lesnoy, Sosnovka, Karl and Emilia Ave..." And before the street appeared, some part of the area was apparently called "Karl and Emilia." For example, the "Petersburg Leaflet" in 1907 reported an "unprecedented case" of selling 80 plots of land "in Lesnoy, Sosnovka (Karl and Emilia), center of Lesnoy, near the Polytechnic Institute, right by the steam tram stop. Healthy, dry place. Pine forest."

Over time, a dacha area was established around, the Polytechnic Institute appeared, and the lovers’ grave became a place of attention for the youth. Notes were left here, and love vows were made...

It is unknown exactly when, but after the war the grave disappeared. Old-timers still remembered a barely noticeable mound in its place, and then the city grew around it. The Karl and Emilia Avenue nearby became Tosnenskaya Street in 1952 and then disappeared altogether in new blocks. The memory faded. But, as it turned out, not forever. The revival of the legend, as often happens, is owed to an enthusiast. That was researcher Venedikt Böhm, who studies the history of St. Petersburg Germans.

— "I have lived in this area since 1953, when I finished ten grades and entered the Academy of Communications," Venedikt Grigorievich said. "However, I only learned about the legend in the early 1990s and immediately became interested in the matter. At first, the idea arose to restore what had been, that is, the monument in the form of a grave. After consulting maps, we identified its location, received approval from KGIOP, but the administration of the Institute of Cytology, near whose park we wanted to place the monument, was categorically against it. The matter stalled."

Then another idea arose: to erect a monument on the shore or even in the middle of the nearby Olginsky Pond. This is very symbolic, since according to one legend, the lovers threw themselves into the pond. The monument project was created by architect Stanislav Odnovalov in the form of swans soaring into the sky and a symbolic cross in the center. The concept was fundamentally approved by the then chief city artist Ivan Uralov. As always, the matter came down to money, and at that time the 1998 default occurred. Again, the project stopped.

The fate of the monument was complicated for another reason. Many reacted coolly to the fact that Karl and Emilia were, first, German Lutherans, and second, suicides. Therefore, so that the monument would not become a "hymn" to the idea of romantic suicide, it was decided that it should not be dedicated only to Karl and Emilia, but generally to all lovers of St. Petersburg.

A kind of "memory relay" was taken up by the municipal authorities in Grazhdanka, and at the end of July 2006 a competition was announced for the best monument project to lovers. However, the competition did not really take place, since only one application was submitted by the young sculptor Matvey Vainman. The monument to lovers, as an unofficial monument to Karl and Emilia, was installed in a park about one and a half kilometers from the grave, while the grave itself could soon disappear completely. (https://reveal.world/story/samaya-severnaya-legenda-o-lyubvi-pamyatnik-karlu-i-emilii).

However, Venedikt Böhm did not give up and eventually said: "In the spring of this year (2012), when I was supported by enthusiasts from the Polytechnic Institute, the opportunity arose to return to the implementation of this idea. 'Gorelectrotrans' allowed us to install a memorial sign on its territory in the park near the tram ring. This is the historic place of the grave." — Venedikt Böhm recounted.

The result was a very touching and characteristically St. Petersburg modest monument, which was unveiled on August 21, 2012. A small flower bed in the shape of a mound, the base of which is surrounded by old cobblestones, topped with a slab of pink granite inscribed "Karl and Emilia." Almost everything was made by the hands of Venedikt Böhm and his volunteer helpers.

— "Passing by the tram ring, I couldn’t understand what the man was doing who was hauling a granite stone with a winch onto the mound," said Sergey Anatsky, a resident of one of the neighboring houses.

Venedikt Grigorievich explained: there were no sponsors:

— "All expenses were at my own expense, from my pension. I applied my floating foundation technology, which I developed at my dacha. The land and flowers were provided by the gardening and park services of the Vyborg and Kalininsky districts. They promised to continue caring for the monument."

Sources:

http://mirpeterburga.ru/news/new3856

Glezerov Sergey Evgenievich: Northern outskirts of Petersburg. Lesnoy, Grazhdanka, Ruchyi, Udelnaya…