Chapter X
DEPARTURE FOR THE CASPIAN--IEKATERINOSLAV--POTEMKIN'S RUINED PALACE--PASKEVITCH'S CAUCASIAN GUARD--SHAM FIGHT--INTOLERABLE HEAT--CATARACTS OF THE DNIEPR--GERMAN COLONIES--THE SETCHA OF THE ZAPOROGUES--A FRENCH STEWARD--NIGHT ADVENTURE--COLONIES OF THE MOLOSHNIA VODI--MR. CORNIES--THE DOUKOBOREN, A RELIGIOUS SECT.
About the middle of May, 1839, we left the shores of the Black Sea, accompanied by a Cossack and an excellent dragoman, who spoke all the dialects current in Southern Russia. After we had travelled more than 100 leagues upwards along the banks of the Dniepr, we reached Iekaterinoslav, a new town, which about fifty years ago consisted only of some wretched fishermen's cabins, scattered along the margin of the river.
Iekaterinoslav, founded in 1784 by the great Catherine, who laid the first stone in the presence of the Emperor Joseph II., is built on such a gigantic plan as makes it a perfect wilderness, in which the sparse houses and scanty population seem lost, as it were. Its wide and regular streets, marked out only by a few dwellings at long intervals, seem to have been planned for a million of souls; a whole government would have to be unpeopled to fill them, and give them that life and movement so necessary to a capital. But there seems no likelihood that time will fill up the void spaces of this desert, for the number of its inhabitants has not much increased within forty years; it is a stationary town, which will probably never realise the expectations formed by the empress when she gave it her name. It contains, however, some large buildings, numerous churches, bazaars, and charming gardens. But for the absurd mania of the Russians for planning their towns on an enormous scale, it would be a delightful abode, rich in its beautiful Dniepr and the fertile hills around it.
But Iekaterinoslav possesses one thing that distinguishes it from all the towns with which Russian civilisation is beginning to cover the south of the empire; and that is Potemkin's palace and garden. The palace is in ruins though it was built for Catherine II., barely sixty years ago. The indifference of the Russians for their historical monuments is so great, that they hasten to destroy them, merely to clear the ground of things that have ceased to be of use.
The government, despotic as it is, unfortunately has not the power to stay the instinctive vandalism of its people. We will give melancholy proofs of this by and by, when we come to speak of the ancient tombs of the Crimea, so rich in objects of art, and so precious for their antiquity, yet which, in spite of the pretended care of the police, are day by day disappearing before the barbarous cupidity of the peasants, and still more of the employes.
To judge from its remains, Potemkin's palace appears to have been one of truly royal magnificence; on each side are still standing wings which must have contained a great number of apartments. There is a profusion of colonnades, porticoes, capitals, and beautiful cornices in the Italian style of the period; but all is at the mercy of the first peasant who wants stones or wood to repair his cabin. The ground is all strewed over with shapeless fragments, blocks of stone, and broken shafts. Nothing can look more sad than such skeletons of monuments which no accumulated ages have hallowed, and which have not even a veil of ivy to hide their decrepitude, nor any thing to throw a cast of dignity over their blank disorder. The feeling they impart is like that produced by the effects of an earthquake: no lesson given by the past, nothing for the imagination to feed on: no chronicles, no poetry.
The haughty Catherine little suspected that one day the serfs would carry away piecemeal that magnificent edifice planned by the inventive genius of her favourite, at the most brilliant period of her life. It was there she rested from the fatigues of her fantastic journey, and prepared herself for the new wonders that awaited her in the Crimea.
The amorous sovereign of the largest empire in the world, left the ices of St. Petersburg, and performed a journey of 1800 versts, to visit the richest jewel added to her imperial crown, that enchanting Tauris which Potemkin laid at her feet.
At intervals all along the route from Iekaterinoslav to Kherson, stand little pyramids surrounded by a balustrade, to mark the spots where the empress halted, changed horses, &c. In many places are still to be seen palaces that suddenly sprang up on her way, as if at the touch of an enchanter's wand. The whole tract of country is stamped with reminiscences of her grandeur, though she but passed rapidly through these deserts, which were metamorphosed beneath her glance into smiling and populous plains.
Of all these ephemeral palaces, that of Iekaterinoslav was the most worthy to harbour the imperial beauty. It stands on a gentle slope descending to the Dniepr, and is still surrounded with a magnificent park, presenting an admirable variety of sites and views: forests, labyrinths, and granite rocks, clothed with rich vegetation, with paths so capricious, thickets so dense, and resting-places so mysterious, that every step reveals some token of the genius of a courtier, and the power of an empress.
Opposite the palace a little granite island lifts itself above the waters of the Dniepr like a Nereid. Its sole inhabitants are some white albatrosses and an old forest-keeper, whose cabin is hidden among trees. He leads a true hermit life. His gun and his fishing-tackle supply his food; the bushes and briars yield him firing, and thus he finds every thing requisite for his wants within the limits of his retreat. He has a nutshell of a boat, in which he can visit every nook of the island shore, which he shares with the fowls of the air. Except a few fishermen, no one ventures to thread that labyrinth of rocks and whirlpools that render the Dniepr so dangerous hereabouts.
Besides Potemkin's Park, the town has another of great beauty, which serves as a public promenade. It is crowded twice a week, when a military band performs. Its extent, its broad sheets of water, its shady alleys and fine expanse of lawn, make it one of the handsomest gardens I have seen in Russia.
We spent a week in Iekaterinoslav under the roof of an excellent French family long settled in the country. The cloth factory of Messrs. Neumann is the only industrial establishment in the town. Their machines, imported from France and England, and their thorough knowledge of their business, enable them to give the utmost perfection to their goods, notwithstanding which M. Neumann assured us that he should certainly be obliged to shut up his establishment before the lapse of two years. We have already set forth the causes that obstruct the progress of manufactures in Russia, and completely paralyse the industrial efforts of the ablest men.
During our stay in Iekaterinoslav, we had all the pleasure of an excursion into the mountains of Asia, without the trouble of changing our place. It is only in Russia one can encounter such lucky chances. Three hundred mountaineers of the Caucasus arrived in the town, and by the governor's desire entertained the inhabitants with a display of their warlike games and exercises. They were on their way to Warsaw, to serve as a guard of honour for Paskevitch, the hero of the day. This whim of a man spoiled by fortune and the emperor, is tolerably characteristic of the Russians: merely to satisfy it, some hundreds of mountaineers had to quit their families, and traverse vast distances to go and parade on the great square of a capital.
The sight of those half-barbarians arriving like a torrent, and taking possession of the town as of a conquered place, was well calculated to excite our curiosity. We forgot time and place as we gazed on this unwonted spectacle, and seemed carried back among the gigantic invasions of Tamerlane, and his exterminating hordes of Asia, with their wild cries and picturesque costumes, swooping down with long lances and fiery steeds on old Europe, just as they appeared some centuries before, when they subjected all the wide domains of Russia to their sway.
These mountaineers are small, agile, and muscular. There is no saying how they walk, for their life is passed on horseback. There is in the expression of their countenances, an inconceivable mixture of boldness, frankness, and fierce rapacity. Their bronzed complexion, dazzlingly white teeth, black eyes, every glance of which is a flash of lightning, and regular features, compose a physiognomy that terrifies more than great ugliness.
Their manoeuvres surpass every thing an European can imagine. How cold, prim, and faded seem our civilised ways compared with those impassioned countenances, those picturesque costumes, those furious gallops, that grace and impetuosity of movement, that belong only to them. They discharge their carbines on horseback at full speed, and display inimitable address in the exercise of the djereed. Every rider decks his steed with a care he does not always bestow on his own adornment, covering it with carpets, strips of purple stuffs, cashmere shawls, and all the costly things with which the plunder of the caravans can supply him.
The manoeuvres lasted more than two hours, and afforded us an exact image of Asiatic warfare. They concluded with a general melee, which really terrified not a few spectators, so much did the smoke, the shouts, the ardour of the combatants, the discharges of musketry, and the neighings of the horses complete the vivid illusion of the scene. It was at last impossible to distinguish any thing through the clouds of dust and smoke that whirled round the impetuous riders.
Paskevitch will perhaps be more embarrassed with them than he expects. From the moment these lions of the desert arrived, the town was in a state of revolution. The shopkeepers complained of their numerous thefts, and husbands and fathers were shocked at their cavalier manners towards the fair sex.
Though it was but the beginning of June, the heat had attained an intensity that made it literally a public calamity. The hospitals were crowded with patients, most of them labouring under cerebral fevers, a class of affections exceedingly dangerous in this country. The dust lay so thick in the street, that the foot sank in it as in snow, and for more than a fortnight the thermometer had remained invariably at 84 deg. R. You have but to visit Russia to know what is the heat of the tropics. We nevertheless carried away not a few agreeable recollections of Iekaterinoslav, thanks to its charming position, and some distinguished salons of which it has reason to be proud.
On leaving Iekaterinoslav we proceeded to the famous cataracts of the Dniepr, on which attempts have been ineffectually made for more than a hundred years to render them navigable, and in the vicinity of which there are several German colonies.
My husband having in the preceding year discovered a rich iron mine in this locality, we had to stop some time to make fresh investigations. I have already spoken so much of the Dniepr, that I am almost afraid to return to the subject. In this part of its course, however, there is nothing like the maritime views of Kherson, the plavnicks of the Doutchina, or the cheerful bold aspect of the vicinity of Iekaterinoslav. Near the cataracts, the river has all the depth and calmness of a beautiful lake; not a ripple breaks its dark azure surface. Its bed is flanked by huge blocks of granite, that seem as though they had been piled up at random by the hands of giants. Every thing is grand and majestic in these scenes of primeval nature; nothing in them reminds us of the flight and the ravages of time. There are no trees shedding their leaves on the river's margin, no turf that withers, no soil worn away by the flood: the scene is an image of eternal changelessness.
The Dniepr has deeps here which no plummet has ever fathomed, and the inhabitants allege that it harbours real marine monsters in its abysses. All the fishermen have seen the silurus, a sort of fresh water shark, capable of swallowing a man or a horse at a mouthful, and they relate anecdotes on this head, that transport you to the Nile or the Ganges, the peculiar homes of the voracious crocodile and alligator. One of these stories is of very recent date, and there are many boatmen who pretend to speak of the fact from personal knowledge. They positively aver, that a young girl, who was washing linen on the margin of the water, was carried down to the bottom of the Dniepr, and that her body never again rose to the surface.
A German village is visible on the other side of the river, at some distance from the house of Mr. Masure, the proprietor of the mine. Its pretty red factories with their green window-shutters, the surrounding forest, and a neighbouring island with cliffs glistening in the sun, fill the mind with thoughts of tranquil happiness. On the distant horizon the eye discerns the rent and pointed rocks, and the fleecy spray of the cataracts. Here and there some rocks just rising above the water, one of which, surnamed the Brigand, is the terror of boatmen, are the haunts of countless water-fowl, whose riotous screams long pursue the traveller as he ferries across from bank to bank. All this scene is cheerful and pastoral, like one of Greuze's landscapes; but the bare hills that follow the undulations of the left bank show only dreariness and aridity.
The Germans settled below the cataracts of the Dniepr are the oldest colonists of Southern Russia: their colony was founded by Catherine II., in 1784, after the expulsion of the Zaporogue Cossacks, who were removed to the banks of the Kouban. It is composed solely of Prussian Mennonites, and comprises sixteen villages, numbering 4251 inhabitants, very industrious people, generally in the enjoyment of an ample competence. Corn and cattle form the staple of their wealth, but they are also manufacturers, and have two establishments for making cotton goods, and one for cloth. These Mennonites, however, have remained stationary since their arrival in Russia: full of prejudices, and intensely self-willed, they have set their faces against all innovation and all intellectual development. One of their villages stands on the island of Cortetz, in the Dniepr, once the seat of the celebrated Setcha of the Zaporogue Cossacks. The Setcha, as the reader is perhaps aware, was at first only a fortified spot, where the young men were trained to arms, and where the public deliberations and the elections of the chiefs were held. Afterwards it became the fixed abode of warriors who lived in celibacy; and all who aspired to a reputation for valour were bound to pass at least three years there. I went over the island of Cortetz, and saw everywhere numerous traces of fortifications and entrenched camps. It would not have been easy to select a position more suited to the purpose the Cossacks had in view. The island is a natural fortress, rising more than 150 feet above the water, and defended on all sides by masses of granite, that leave scarcely any thing for art to do to render it impregnable.
We made our first halt, after our departure from the cataracts, at the house of a village superintendent, in whom we discovered, with surprise, a young Frenchman, with the most Parisian accent I ever heard. He is married to a woman of the country, and has been two years prigatchik (superintendent) in one of General Markof's villages. He placed his whole cabin at our disposal, with an alacrity that proved how delighted he was to entertain people from his native land. We had excellent honey, cream, and water-melons, set before us in profusion; but in spite of all our urgent entreaties, we could not prevail on him to partake with us. This made a painful impression on us. Is the air of slavery so contagious that no one can breathe it without losing his personal dignity? This man, born in a land where social distinctions are almost effaced, voluntarily degraded himself in our eyes, by esteeming himself unworthy to sit by our side, just as though he were a born serf, and had been used from his childhood to servility.
He gave us a brief history of his life, a melancholy tissue of disappointments and wretchedness, the narration of which deeply affected us. His ardour and his Parisian wilfulness, his efforts and his hopes, all the exuberance of his twenty years, were cast into a withering atmosphere of disgusts and humiliations, which at last destroyed in him all feeling of nationality: he is become a slave through his intercourse alike with the masters and with the serfs; and what completely proves this, is the cold-blooded cruelty with which he chastises the peasants under him. The whole village is struck with consternation at the punishments he daily inflicts for the most trivial offences. While he was conversing with us, word was brought him that two women and three men had arrived at the place of punishment in pursuance to his orders. Notwithstanding our entreaties, and the repugnance we felt at being so near such a scene, he ordered that they should each receive fifty blows of the stick, and double the number if they made any resistance. The wretched man thus avenges himself on the mujiks, for what he has himself endured at the hands of the Russian aristocracy, and it is at best a hazardous revenge; even for his own sake he ought not to exasperate the peasants, who sometimes make fearful reprisals; frequent attempts have already been made to assassinate him, and although the criminals have paid dearly for their temerity, he may one day fall a victim to some more cunning or more fortunate aggressor. Only the week before our visit, as his wife told us, a more daring attempt than any preceding one, had been made by a peasant who from the first had declared himself his enemy.
After a long walk in the fields, the superintendent sat down under the shade of some trees in a ravine. Overcome with heat and fatigue, he at last fell asleep, after placing his two pistols by his side. An instinctive fear possessed him even in sleep, and kept him sensible of the least noise around him. The body slept, but not the mind. Suddenly his ear catches a suspicious sound; he opens his eyes, and sees a mujik stooping down softly in the act of picking up one of his pistols. There was so much ferocity in the man's looks, and such a stealthiness in his movements, that there could be no doubt of his intentions. The superintendent, with admirable presence of mind, raised himself on his elbow, and asked, with a yawn, what he was going to do with the pistol; to which the mujik, instantly putting on an air of affected stolidity peculiar to the Russian serf, answered, that he was curious to see how a pistol was made. So saying, he handed the weapon to his master, without appearing in the least disconcerted. The unfortunate man nearly died under the knout, and the superintendent's wife remarked, with a naivete, thoroughly Russian, that he would have done much better to die outright.
We had further opportunities in this village for remarking how little compassion the Russian peasants have for each other. They look on at the beating of a comrade without evincing the least sympathy, or being moved by so degrading a sight to any reflection on their unhappy condition; it seems as though humanity has lost all claim on their hearts, so completely has servitude destroyed in them all capability of feeling, and all human dignity.
We left this station about six in the evening, having still some twenty versts to travel before arriving at the first village of the German colonies of the Moloshnia, where we intended to pass the night. Thanks to the bad horses and the stupid driver our countryman had given us, we had scarcely got over a quarter of the ground when we were in total darkness.
The coachman was all black and blue from the brutal treatment of his master, who had given him half a dozen blows in our presence. The fellow was every moment changing his road at random, without regard to the fresh corrections of the same sort, which Antoine showered thickly upon him by way of admonition. He made us lose a great deal of time on the way, besides wearing out the strength of his cattle to no purpose.
Nothing can be more wearisome and monotonous than travelling in the steppes; but it is, above all, by night that the uniformity of the country is truly discouraging, for then you are every moment in danger of turning your back on the point you want to reach: you have an immensity like that of the sea around you, and a compass would be of real service. Such, however, is the instinct of the peasants, that they find their way with ease, in the darkest night or the most violent snow-storm, through tracks crossing each other in every direction.
Our driver was an exception to the general rule, but sulkiness had more to do than inability with his apparent embarrassment. Our perplexity increased considerably when we found that the horses at last refused to move. The night was very gloomy; there was not a twinkling of light, nor any sound or sign of human habitations; every fresh question we put to our driver only elicited the laconic answer, "nesnai" (I don't know); and when a Russian has said he does not know, no power of tongue or stick can make him say he knows. Of this we had a proof that night. Our Cossack, tired of vainly questioning the unlucky driver, began to tickle his shoulders with a long whip he carried at his girdle; but it was all to no purpose; and but one course remained to us, if we would not pass the night in the open air. The Cossack unharnessed one of the horses, and set off to reconnoitre. After an absence of two hours, he came back and told us we were not very far from a German village, and that we might reach it in two hours; that is to say, provided our horses would move; but they were dead beat.
Here, again, the Cossack relieved us from our difficulty, by yoking to the carriage a poor little colt that had followed its mother, without suspecting that it was that night to begin its hard apprenticeship. Weak as was this reinforcement, it enabled us to advance, though very slowly; but at last the barking of dogs revived the mettle of our horses, and they broke into a trot for the first time.
A forest of handsome trees and distant lights gave indubitable assurance of a village. It was not like the ordinary villages, collections of mean-looking kates rising like mushrooms out of the arid ground, without a shrub to screen them; we were entering the German colonies, and the odours from the blossoming fruit-trees, and the sight of the pretty little red houses of which we caught glimpses through the trees, soon carried us in imagination far away from the Russian steppes.
With as keen delight as ever oasis caused the desert wanderer, we entered this pretty village, the name of which (Rosenthal, Rosedale) gives token of the poetic feeling of the Germans. Its extensive gardens obliged us to make a long detour. The people were all in bed when we arrived, and we had much difficulty in finding the house of the schultz (the headborough). At last we discovered it, and the hospitable reception we met with soon made us forget the events of this memorable night.
The region occupied by these colonies is unlike the steppes, though the form of the ground is the same. The villages are very close to each other, are all built on the same plan, and are for the most part sheltered in ravines. The houses have only a ground-floor, and are built with wood or with red and blue bricks, and have very projecting roofs. Their parti-coloured walls, their carved wooden chimneys, and pretty straw roofs, that seem as neatly finished as the finest Egyptian mats, produce a charming effect as seen through the green trees of the gardens that surround them. They are almost all exactly similar, even to the most minute details: a few only are distinguished from the rest by a little more colouring or carving, and a more elegant balustrade next the garden.
The fields are in excellent cultivation; the pastures are stocked with fine cattle; and sheep-folds and wells placed here and there enliven the landscape, and break the fatiguing monotony of the plain; the whole face of the country tells of the thriving labours of the colonists. But one must enter their houses to appreciate the habits of order and industry to which they owe not only an ample supply for the necessaries of life, but almost always a degree of comfort rarely to be found in the dwellings of the Russian nobles. One might even accuse the good housewives of a little sensuality, to see their eider-down beds and pillows heaped almost up to the ceiling. You may be certain of finding in every house a handsome porcelain stove, a glazed cupboard, containing crockery, and often plate, furniture carefully scrubbed and polished, curtains to the windows, and flowers in every direction.
We passed two days in Orlof with the wealthiest and most philanthropic proprietor in all the German villages. M. Cornies came into the country about forty years ago, and started without capital, having like the others only a patch of land and some farming implements. After the lapse of a few years every one already envied his fortune, but all acknowledged his kindly solicitude for those who had been less prosperous than himself. Endowed with an active and intelligent character, and strongly interested in the cause of human improvement, he afterwards became the leader in the work of civilising the Nogai Tartars, and he now continues with very great success the work so ably begun by one of our own countrymen, Count Maison. M. Cornies is a corresponding member of the St. Petersburg Academy, and has contributed to its Transactions several papers of learned research, and remarkable for the comprehensive scope of their ideas; hence he enjoys a great reputation not only among his countrymen, but likewise throughout all Southern Russia. His flocks, his nurseries, and his wools, are objects of interest to all persons engaged in trade, and his plans for the improvement of agriculture and cattle rearing, are generally adopted as models.
Though M. Cornies is worth more than 40,000_l._, his way of life is in strict conformity with the rigorism and simplicity of the Mennonites, to which sect he belongs. The habits of these sectarians are of an extreme austerity that strips domestic life of all its ordinary charms. The wife and daughters of a Mennonite, whatever be his fortune, are the only female servants in his house, and Madame Cornies and her daughters waited humbly on us at table, as though they had no right to sit at it with the head of the family. Notwithstanding this apparent inequality of the sexes, there is a great deal of happiness in the married life of the Mennonites; nor should it be forgotten that in judging of all matters appertaining to foreigners, we should endeavour to behold things in the peculiar light in which education and custom invest them for native eyes.
The dress of the women is like their habits of life, plain and simple. It consists invariably of a gown of blue printed cotton, the bodice of which ends just below the bosom, an apron of the same material, and a white collar with a flat hem; the hair is combed back a la Chinoise, and on it sits a little black cap without trimming, tied under the chin. This head-dress, which has some resemblance to that of the Alsatian women, sets off a young and pretty face to advantage, but increases the ugliness of an ugly one. The dress of the men is the same as that of the German peasants, with the exception of some slight modifications.
One dish of meat and two of vegetables, compose the whole dinner of a Mennonite; each person at table has a large goblet of milk set before him instead of wine, the use of which is altogether prohibited in their sect.
There are no regular priests in these colonies; the oldest and most esteemed members of each community, are elected to fulfil the office of the ministry. These elders read the Bible every Sunday, preach, and give out the hymns, which are sung by the whole congregation.
The Mennonites are generally well educated; but their information has no more than their wealth the effect of impairing the patriarchal simplicity of their habits. We happened to see a young man, belonging to one of the wealthiest families, on his return from a long foreign tour; he had visited France, Switzerland, and Germany, and yet it was with a most cordial alacrity he returned to share in the agricultural labours of his father and his brothers.
All these German colonies are divided into two distinct groups: the one established on the right bank of the Moloshnia Vodi[5] is composed of people from Baden and Swabia, and comprises twenty-three villages, with 6649 inhabitants; the other seated on the left coast of the Black Sea, and along the little rivulet Joushendli, contains forty-three Mennonite villages. As the latter is unquestionably the most important and thriving colony in Southern Russia, we will direct our attention to it almost exclusively.
The Mennonites, so called after the name of the founder of their sect, profess nearly the same religious principles as the Anabaptists of France. They first arose in Holland, the language of which country they still speak, and settled towards the close of the last century in Northern Prussia, in the vicinity of Dantzig. Attempts having been made about that time, to force them into military service, contrary to their tenets, a first migration took place, and the colony of Cortetz, below the cataract of the Dniepr, was founded under the auspices of Catherine II. That of Moloshnia Vodi, was founded in 1804, by a fresh body of emigrants; it was greatly enlarged in 1820, and at the end of the year 1837, it covered 100,000 hectares of land, and contained forty-three villages, with 9561 inhabitants, including 984 families of proprietors.
The non-agricultural population is composed of handicraftsmen of all sorts, some of whom are very skilful. Alpstadt, the chief place of the colony, has a cloth manufactory, in which seven looms are at work. Wages are very high; for almost all the workmen as soon as they have saved any money, give up their trade and addict themselves to agriculture.
Each village is under the control of a headborough, called the schultz, and two assistants. They are elected every three years, but one of them remains in office a year after the two others, that he may afford their successors the necessary current information. An oberschultz (mayor), who likewise has two assistants, resides in the chief place of the colony. These magistrates decide without appeal, in all the little differences that may arise between the colonists. Important cases are carried before the central committee. As for criminal cases, of which there has yet been no example, they fall under the jurisdiction of the Russian tribunals. Laziness is punished by fine and forced labour for the benefit of the community.
The inspector, who represents the government, resides in the Swabian colony, on the right bank of the Moloshnia. Odessa is the seat of the administrative council, which consists of a president and three judges, all Russians, nominated by the emperor. The committee exercises a general control over all the colonies, and ratifies the elections of the schultzes and their assistants. Its last president was the infantry general Inzof, a man remarkable for his personal character and the deep interest he took in the establishments under his direction.
Every proprietor has sixty-five hectares of land, for which he pays an annual quit-rent to the crown of fifteen kopeks per hectare; besides which he pays four rubles a year towards defraying the general expenses of the colony, the salaries of the committee, the inspector, the schoolmasters, &c. Each village has a granary for reserve against seasons of dearth; it must always contain two tchetverts of wheat for every male head.
The cattle is all under the management of one chief herdsman, at whose call they leave their stalls in the morning, and return in the evening to the village.
Every five or six years one or more new villages are established. A newly-established family does not at once receive its sixty-five hectares of land; if the young couple do not choose to reside with their parents, they generally build themselves a little house beyond the precincts of the village. But when the young families are become so numerous that their united allotments shall form a space sufficient for the pasture of their flocks in common, and for the execution of the agricultural works enjoined by the regulations, then, and not till then, the new colonists obtain permission to establish themselves on the uncultivated lands. At present the Mennonite colony possesses nearly 30,000 hectares of land not yet brought under the plough. Thus these Germans, transplanted to the extremity of Southern Russia, have successfully realised some of the ideas of the celebrated economist, Fourrier.
It will readily be conceived that under such a system of administration, and, above all, with their simple habits, their sobriety and industry, these Mennonites must naturally have outstripped the other colonists in prosperity. Those from Swabia and Baden, though subjected to precisely the same regulations, will never attain to the same degree of wealth. They are generally fond of good cheer, and addicted to drink; but they have, perhaps, the merit of understanding life better than their Puritanical neighbours, and of making the most of the gifts Providence has bestowed on them.
The Mennonite colony possessed at the close of 1837:--
Horned cattle 7,719 Horses 6,029 Merino sheep 412,274 Fruit-trees in the gardens 316,011 Forest trees 609,096
These last have since perished for the most part. The sale of wheat in 1838, amounted to 600,000 rubles. The provisions for public instruction are highly satisfactory. The colony numbers forty schools, attended by 2390 pupils of both sexes, who are taught the German language, arithmetic, history, and geography. Russian is also taught in two of the schools.
The Mennonites, as well as the other German colonists of Southern Russia, for a long while enjoyed a very special protection on the part of the government; and both the present sovereign and his predecessor have on several occasions given them signal proofs of their favour. But unhappily their committee was suppressed eighteen months ago, and this measure will be fatal to them. They had long looked forward with alarm to a change in their affairs, and sent many deputations to St. Petersburg, to solicit a continuance of the original system: their efforts were ineffectual; the work of centralization and unity has involved them in their turn, and they are now in immediate dependence on the newly-constituted ministry of the domains of the crown. No doubt the government had a full right to act in this manner; and after having allowed the colonists to enjoy their peculiar privileges for such a long series of years, it may now, without incurring any obloquy, subject them to the ordinary system of administration prevalent in the empire. But it is not the less certain, seeing the corruption and venality of the Russian functionaries, that this change of system will lead to the ruin of the colonists, and that, notwithstanding all the efforts and the good intentions of the government, when once the Germans are put under the same management as the crown serfs, they will be unable to save their property from the rapacity of their new controlers. The colonies have been but a few months under the direction of the ministry of the domains, and already several hundred families have abandoned their dwellings and their lands, and retired to Germany. I saw a great number of them arrive in 1842, in Moldavia, where they thought to form some settlements; but they did not succeed.
Besides the German colonies of which we have been speaking, there are others in the environs of Nicolaief and Odessa, in Bessarabia and the Crimea, and about the coasts of the sea of Azov. Altogether these foreign colonies in New Russia, number upwards of 160 villages, containing more than 46,000 souls. In the midst of them are several villages inhabited by Russian dissenters, entertaining nearly the same religious views as the Mennonites and Anabaptists. These are the Douckoboren and Molokaner, who separated from the national church about 160 years ago, at which time they were resident in several of the central provinces; but the government being alarmed at the spread of their doctrines, transported them forcibly to New Russia, where it placed them under military supervision. Here they admirably availed themselves of the examples set them by the Germans, and soon attained a high degree of prosperity. In 1839, they amounted to a population of 6617 souls, occupying thirteen villages. Most of their houses were in the German style, and every thing about them was indicative of plenty. Two years after this first visit to them, I met on the road from Taganrok to Rostof, two large detachments of exiles escorted by two battalions of infantry. They were the unfortunate dissenters of the Moloshnia, who had been expelled from their villages, and were on their way to the military lines of the Caucasus. The most perfect decorum and the most touching resignation appeared in the whole body. The women alone showed signs of anger, whilst the men sang hymns in chorus. I asked several of them whither they were going; their answer was "God only knows."
After leaving the German colonies, we passed through several villages of Nogai Tatars. We shall reserve what we have to say of these people for another place.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] The Moloshnia Vodi (Milk River) is a little stream emptying itself between Berdiansk and Guenitshky into the liman of a lake which no longer communicates with the Sea of Azov.
Chapter XI
MARIOUPOL--BERDIANSK--KNAVISH JEW POSTMASTER--TAGANROK-- MEMORIALS OF PETER THE GREAT AND ALEXANDER--GREAT FAIR--THE GENERAL WITH TWO WIVES--MORALITY IN RUSSIA--ADVENTURES OF A PHILHELLENE--A FRENCH DOCTOR--THE ENGLISH CONSUL--HORSE RACES--A FIRST SIGHT OF THE KALMUCKS.
Our arrival in Marioupol unpleasantly reminded us that we were no longer in the German colonies. A dirty inn-room, horses not forthcoming, bread not to be had, nor even fresh water, rude employes--every thing in short was in painful contrast with the comfort and facilities to which we became accustomed in our progress through the thriving villages of the Mennonites.
Marioupol is the chief place of an important colony founded on the shores of the Sea of Azov, at the mouth of the Kalmious, by the Greeks whom Catherine II. removed thither from the Crimea in 1784. It now reckons eighty villages, a population of about 30,000, occupying 450,000 hectares[6] of land. The taxes paid by these colonists amount to ten kopeks per hectare; in addition to which, each family contributes one ruble fifty kopeks towards the salary of the government officers in their district. They enjoy several privileges, have their own magistrates and subordinate judges, elected by themselves, and are exempt from military service. Criminal cases and suits not terminated before their own tribunals, come under the general laws and regulations of the empire.
Agriculture and commerce are the chief resources of the colony, but I have seen no trace of the mulberry plantations attributed to it.
Having been for a long series of ages subject to the khans of the Crimea, all these Greeks speak a corrupt Tatar dialect among themselves. They are on the whole a degenerate and thoroughly unprincipled race, particularly in Marioupol, the traders of which enrich themselves by robbing the agriculturists, who are forced to sell them their produce.
Marioupol is a large dirty village, and its port, which has only a custom-house of exit, is nothing but a paltry roadstead of little depth, in which vessels are sheltered from none but western winds. With the exception of a solitary brig, there were only some small coasting vessels in it when we visited the place. Its export trade is considerable notwithstanding, amounting to the annual value of four or five millions of francs.
Marioupol is infallibly destined to lose all its commercial importance since the foundation of the new and more advantageously-situated harbour of Berdiansk, to which the greater part of the produce of the surrounding country already takes its way. As a general rule, one town of Southern Russia can prosper only at the expense and by the abandonment of another; thus Kherson has been sacrificed to Odessa, Theodosia to Kertch, &c. It must, however, be owned that the preference given to Berdiansk is well grounded. Placed at the mouth of the Berda, that town is unquestionably the best port on the Sea of Azov. Its population in 1840 was 1258, and during the year 1839 it exported 187,761 tchetverts of wheat; its importation is a blank as yet.
After waiting several hours we at last procured horses that conveyed us rapidly to the next post; but there we had another stoppage. The clerk had a fancy to squeeze our purses, and knew no better way of doing so than by refusing us horses. Commands, threats, and abuse, never for a moment ruffled his dogged composure. Unfortunately our Cossack had been seized with a violent fever, and remained behind at Marioupol; had he been with us the clerk would hardly have ventured on his tricks, for he would have been sure of a sound drubbing. But this manner of enforcing compliance was not in our way, and as we had written authority to hire horses from the peasants wherever we found them, we sent Anthony to the next village, and thought no more about being supplied by the postmaster. Our unconcern began to alarm the clerk; gangs of horses were every moment returning from pasture, and he saw plainly that his position was becoming critical. After an hour's absence Anthony appeared in the distance with three stout horses and a driver. I will not attempt to depict the consternation of the Jew when he was assured that the team was really for us. He threw himself at our feet, knocked his head against the ground, and in short, evinced such a passion of grovelling fear, that disgusted and wearied with his importunities, we at last promised not to make any complaint against him. We made all haste to quit the spot, and in five hours afterwards we were in Taganrok.
The town, situated on the bay of the same name at the northern extremity of the Sea of Azov, is the chief place of a distinct administrative district, dependent on Iekaterinoslav only as regards the courts of law, and comprising within its limits, Rostof, Marioupol, Nakitchevane, and a little territory lying round the northern end of the sea, and encompassed by the country of the Don. Its boundaries are, on one side, the Mious, which falls into the Sea of Azov, and on the other side, the Government of the Cossacks of the Black Sea.
Taganrok was founded in 1706, by Peter the Great, after the taking of Azov, and was demolished in pursuance of the treaty of the Pruth. War with Turkey having been renewed, it was rebuilt in 1709, and fortified; and a harbour was constructed, surrounded with a mole, the remains of which are still seen just level with the surface of the water.
This harbour is a long rectangle, with a single entrance towards the west. There is some idea of renovating it, by reconstructing its mole, and clearing it of the sand with which it has been long choked; but this project, if carried into effect, will not remove the natural defects of the Taganrok roadstead. The water is so low, that vessels are obliged to lie from four to six leagues off the shore, and to load and unload their cargoes in a curious round-about, and very expensive manner. Waggons surmounted with platforms loaded with grain, perform the first part of the process, and advance in files, often to a distance of half a league into the sea. There they are unloaded into large barges, and these almost always require the aid of a third auxiliary, before their freight is finally shipped.
On approaching Taganrok, one almost fancies the town before him is Odessa. Its position on the Sea of Azov, the character of the landscape, its churches, its great extent, and every feature of the place, even to the fortress commanding it, combine to favour the illusion.
Taganrok has thriven rapidly, as Peter the Great foresaw it would do, and has become one of the most commercial towns of Southern Russia. Its trade, however, has considerably diminished since the suppression of its lazaret, and the closure of the Sea of Azov, in consequence of a fifty days' quarantine established at Kertch. The town now contains 16,000 inhabitants.
Peter the Great's sojourn in Taganrok, is commemorated by an oak wood of his own planting. Such a memorial of a great prince is certainly better than a pompous monument; more durable, and more philanthropic, particularly in a country destitute of forests.
It was at Taganrok that the Emperor Alexander died, far away from the splendours of St. Petersburg. As we visited the modest dwelling that served him for his last abode, all the events of the great epoch in which he was one of the most illustrious actors crowded on our memories. The bed-room where he died has been converted into a chapelle ardente, but in every other respect the house has been preserved with religious care, just as he left it.
There was a fair in the town when we arrived. The suffocating heat, the clouds of dust, and the crowded state of all the hotels, at first made us look unfavourably on the place, but the diversions of the fair soon reconciled us to the inconveniences of our lodgings.
In Russia, fairs still retain an importance they scarcely any longer possess in our more civilised countries. Every town has its own, which is more or less frequented; that of Nijni Novgorod is reputed the most considerable on the European continent; all the nations of Europe and Asia, send their representatives to it. Next after it, the fair of Karkhof, is in high esteem among merchants for its rich furs. These fairs often last more than a month, and they are impatiently looked forward to by all the country nobles, whom they enable for a while to breathe as it were the odour of fashionable town life. Balls, theatres, shopping, music, horse races--what a world of pleasures in the compass of a few days! And every one sets about enjoying them with feverish ardour. Every thing else is interrupted; the fair to-day, all other concerns to-morrow. At some little distance from Taganrok, there are huge bazaars filled with oriental merchandise, and the covered alleys are crowded with fashionable loungers in the evening. A very curious spectacle indeed is this labyrinth of Persian cloths, slippers, furs, Parisian bonnets and caps, shawls from Kashmir, and a thousand other articles too numerous to detail. Every thing is arranged to the best advantage, and the eye is delighted with the picturesque and fantastic medley of colours and forms.
Europe and Asia are matched against each other, and exert all their arts of fascination to allure purchasers. In spite of all the elegance of the French fashions, it must be owned that our little bonnets and our scanty mantillas cut but a sorry figure beside the muslins interwoven with gold and silver, the rich termalamas and the furs that adorn the shops of the country. And yet all eyes, all desires, all purses turn towards the productions of France. Some faded ribands and trumpery bonnets attract a greater number of pretty customers than all the gorgeous wares of Asia.
During our stay at Taganrok, we were invited to a ball at the mansion of General Khersanof, son-in-law of the celebrated Hetman Platof. The general possesses the handsomest residence in the town, and keeps his state like a real prince, amidst the motley society of a commercial town. All his apartments are stuccoed and decorated with equal taste and magnificence. The windows consist of single panes of plate glass more than three yards high. The furniture, lustres, ceilings, and pictures, all display a feeling for the fine arts, and a sumptuosity governed by good taste, which may well surprise us in a Cossack.
In front of the mansion lies a handsome garden, which was lighted up with coloured lamps for the occasion. The whole front of the dwelling was brilliantly illuminated. It was a magic coup d'oeil, particularly as it was aided by the transparent atmosphere of a beautiful summer night, that vied in purity with the clearest of those of the south.
On entering the first salon, we were met by the general, who immediately presented us to his two wives. But the reader will say, is bigamy allowed among the Cossacks? Not exactly so; but if the laws and public opinion are against it, still a man of high station may easily evade both; and General Khersanof has been living for many years in open, avowed bigamy, without finding that his salons are the less frequented on account of such a trifle. In Russia, wealth covers every thing with its glittering veil, and sanctions every kind of eccentricity, however opposed to the usages of the land, provided it redeem them by plenty of balls and entertainments. Public opinion, such as exists in France, is here altogether unknown. The majority leave scruples of conscience to timorous souls, without even so much as acknowledging their merit.
A man the slave of his word, and a woman of her reputation, could not be understood in a country where caprice reigns as absolute sovereign. A Russian lady, to whom I made some remarks on this subject, answered naively, that none but low people could be affected by scandal, inasmuch as censure can only proceed from superiors. She was perfectly right, for, situated as the nobility are, who would dare to criticise and condemn their faults? In order that public opinion should exist, there must be an independent class, capable of uttering its judgments without fearing the vengeance of those it calls before its bar; there must be a free country in which the acts of every individual may be impartially appreciated; in short, the words justice, honour, honesty, and delicacy of feeling must have a real meaning, instead of being the sport of an elegant and corrupt caste, that systematically makes a mock of every thing not subservient to its caprices and passions.
Notwithstanding their opulence, and the society that frequents their salons, Mesdames Khersanof retain a simplicity of manners and costume in curious contrast with every thing around them. An embarrassed air, vulgar features, an absence of all dignity in bearing and in conversation, and an ungainly style of dress--this was all that struck us as most remarkable about them. The younger wore a silk gown of a sombre colour, with a short body and straight sleeves, and so narrow that it might be taken for a bag. A silk kerchief covered her shoulders and part of her neck, and her little cap put me strongly in mind of the head-gear of our master-cooks. The whole costume was mean, awkward, and insipid. Except a few brilliants in her girdle and her cap, she showed no other trace of that Asiatic splendour which is still affected by many other women of this country.
It is said that the two co-wives live on the best possible terms with each other. The general seems quite at his ease with respect to them, and goes from the one to the other with the same marks of attention and affection. His first wife is very old, and might be taken for the mother of the second. We were assured that being greatly distressed at having no children, she had herself advised her husband to make a new choice. The general fixed on a very pretty young peasant working on his own property. In order to diminish the great disparity of rank between them, he married her to one of his officers, who, on coming out of church, received orders to depart instantly on a distant mission, from which he never returned. Some time afterwards the young woman was installed in the general's brilliant mansion, and presented to all his acquaintance as Madame Khersanof.
Two charming daughters are the fruit of this not very orthodox union. Dressed in seraphines of blue silk, they performed the Russian and the Cossack dances with exquisite grace, and enchanted us during the whole continuance of the ball. The Russian dance fascinates by its simplicity and poetry, and differs entirely from all other national dances: it consists not so much in the steps, as in a pensive, natural pantomime, in which northern calmness and gravity are tempered by a charming grace and timidity. Less impassioned than the dances of Spain, it affects the senses with a gentle langour which it is not easy to resist.
We met with a Frenchman at Taganrok, a real hero of romance. At eighteen his adventurous temper impelled him to quit the service to go and play a part in the Greek revolution. He participated in all the chances and dangers of the struggle against the Turks; and battling sometimes as a guerrillero, sometimes as a seaman, and sometimes as a diplomatist, he was thrown into more or less immediate contact with all those who shed such a lustre on the war of independence. In one of his campaigns he chanced to save the life of a young and pretty Smyrniote, whom he lost no time in marrying and bearing far away from the scenes of massacre with which the whole archipelago then abounded. A Russian nobleman advised him to repair to Moscow, and furnished him with the means. His wife's magnificent Greek costume, her youth and beauty, produced an intense sensation in that capital. The whole court, which was then in Moscow, was full of interest for the young Smyrniote, and the empress even sought to attach her to her person by the most tempting offers. Madame de V. refused them, preferring to remain with her husband, whose conduct, however, was far from irreproachable. Being young, very handsome, and of an enterprising character, his successes among the Muscovite ladies were very numerous; and he was everywhere known by the name of the handsome Frenchman.
An adventure that made a great deal of noise, and in which a lady of the court had completely compromised her reputation for his sake, obliged him to quit Moscow in the midst of his triumphs. He then led his wife from one capital to another, presenting her everywhere as an interesting victim of the Greek revolution. After this European tour, he returned to Paris, where he passed some years. Many eminent artists of that city painted the portrait of his wife, who is still very beautiful. In 1838 he left Paris and settled in Taganrok as a teacher of the French language; and there this poet, traveller, man of the world, and beau cavalier is throwing away almost all his advantages, which are of little service to him in the walk he has chosen, and in a town where there are so few persons capable of appreciating him.
Our whole colony in Taganrok consists of Doctor Meunier, who acts as consul; M. de V., and a Provencal lady, who keeps a boarding-school.
This Doctor Meunier is another original. He passed I know not how many years in the service of the Shah of Persia, who had a great regard for him, and invested him on his departure with the order of the sun, a magnificent decoration, more brilliant than that of a grand cordon.
Having shrewdly availed himself of his extensive opportunities for observation, his acquaintance is highly to be prized by all who love to give their imagination free scope: his graphic and marvellous stories are like pages from the Arabian Nights. In an instant, he sets before his hearers palaces of gold and azure, bewitching almehs, towns ruined to their foundations, towers of human heads, a French milliner superintending the education of Persian ladies, princes, beggars, dervishes, unbounded luxury side by side with the most hideous poverty, and all that the East can show to move, allure, or terrify the soul.
One of the houses that offer most attractions for foreigners, is that of Mr. Yeams, brother of the English consul-general of Odessa. We found him possessed of all his brother's amiable qualities and perfect tact. When the English can shake off the stiffness with which they are so justly reproached, and their immoderate pride, they are perhaps the most agreeable of all acquaintances. They generally possess strong powers of observation and analysis, large and sound information, genuine dignity of conduct, and above all, a good-humoured kindliness, that is more winning for the pains they take to conceal it.
While looking over Mr. Yeams' English, French, and German library, and the journals of all nations that lie on the tables, it is not easy to believe oneself on the shores of the Sea of Azov, and on the outskirts of Europe. The "Journal des Debats," the "Times," and the "Augsburg Gazette," put you au courant of the affairs of Europe, as though Paris and London were not a thousand leagues away from you.
It is not to be conceived into what a confusion of ideas one is cast at first, by the sight of a room filled with books, maps, journals, familiar articles of furniture, and people talking French: you ask yourself what is become of the days and nights you have spent in galloping post, the vast extent of sea you have crossed, the leagues of land and water, the regions and the climes you have left between you and your native country.
With the advances civilisation is daily making, distances will soon be annulled; for distance to my thinking, consists not in difference of longitude, but in diversity of manners and ideas. I certainly felt myself nearer to France in Taganrok than I should have been in certain cantons of Switzerland or Germany.
On the eve of our departure we attended some horse-races, that interested us only by the number and the variety of the spectators. There we began to make acquaintance with the Kalmucks, some of whom had come to the fair to sell their horses, the breed of which is in great request throughout the south of Russia. There was nothing very captivating in the Mongol features and savage appearance of these worshippers of the Grand Lama; and when I saw the jealous and disdainful looks they cast on those around them, and heard their loud yells whenever a horse passed at full speed before them, I could not help feeling some apprehension at the thought that I should soon have to throw myself on their hospitality.
Taganrok has the strongest resemblance to a Levantine town, so much are its Greek and Italian inhabitants in a majority over the rest of the population. Such was the perpetual hubbub, that we could hardly persuade ourselves we were in Russia, where the people usually make as little noise as possible, lest the echo of their voices should reach St. Petersburg. The Greeks, though subjected to the imperial regime, are less circumspect, and retain under the northern sky the vivacity and restless temperament that characterise their race. We particularly admired that day, a number of young Greek women, whose black eyes and elegant figures attracted every gaze. A string of carriages was drawn up round part of the race-course, and enabled us to review all the aristocratic families of the town and neighbourhood. The ladies were dressed as for a ball, with short sleeves, their heads uncovered and decked with flowers.
A blazing sun and whirlwinds of dust, such as would be thought fabulous in any other country, soon dimmed all this finery, and drove away most of the spectators: we were not the last to seek refuge in the covered alleys of a neighbouring bazaar, where we had ices and delicious water-melons set before us in the Armenian cafe for a few kopeks.
FOOTNOTES:
[6] A hectare is a little more than two acres.
Chapter XII
DEPARTURE FROM TAGANROK--SUNSET IN THE STEPPES--A GIPSY CAMP --ROSTOF; A TOWN UNPARALLELED IN THE EMPIRE--NAVIGATION OF THE DON--AZOV; ST. DIMITRI--ASPECT OF THE DON--NAKITCHEVANE, AND ITS ARMENIAN COLONY.
As we turned our backs on Taganrok, we could easily foresee what we should have to suffer during our journey. A long drought and a temperature of 99 deg. had already changed the verdant plains of the Don into an arid desert. At times the wind raised such billows of dust around us, that the sky was completely veiled from our eyes; our breath failed us, and the blood boiled in our ears; our sufferings for the moment were horrible. The hot air of a conflagration does not cause a more painful sense of suffocation than that produced by the wind of the desert. The horses could not stand against it, but stopped and hung down their heads, seeming as much distressed as ourselves.
As we approached the Don the country was not quite such a dead, unbroken flat as before; a few Cossack stanitzas began to show themselves among the clumps of trees on the banks of the river. Deep gullies lined with foliage, and the traces of several streams, show how agreeable this part of the steppes must be in spring; but at the period of our journey every thing had been dried up and almost calcined by the rays of a sun which no cloud had obscured for two months.
Before reaching Rostof, we passed through a large Armenian village. Its picturesque position, in the midst of a ravine, and the oriental fashion of its houses, give some interest and variety to these lonely regions, and transiently busy the imagination. The evening promised to be very beautiful; something serene, calm, and melancholy, had succeeded to the enervating heat of the day.
Sunset in the steppes is like sunset nowhere else. In a country of varied surface, the gradually lengthening shadows give warning long beforehand that the sun is approaching the horizon. But here there is nothing to intercept its rays until the moment it sinks below the line of the steppe; then the night falls with unequalled rapidity; in a few moments all trace is gone of that brilliant luminary that just before was making the whole west ablaze. It is a magnificent transformation, a sudden transition to which the grandeur of the scene adds almost supernatural majesty and strangeness.
Fatigued by the rapidity with which we had been travelling since we left Taganrok, I took advantage of our halt at a post station, not far from the village, to ascend the rising ground that concealed the road from my view.
As I have said, the night had come down suddenly, and there remained in the west but a few pale red stripes that were fading away with every second. At the opposite point of the horizon the broad red glowing moon, such as it appears when it issues from the sea, was climbing majestically towards the zenith, and already filled that region of the heavens with a soft and mysterious radiance. The greater part of the steppe was still in gloom, whilst a golden fringe marked the limits of earth and sky: the effect was very singular and splendid.
When I reached the summit of the hill an involuntary cry of surprise and alarm escaped me. I remained motionless before the unexpected scene that presented itself to my eyes--a whole gipsy camp, realising one of Sir Walter Scott's most striking fictions. Dispersed over the whole surface of the globe, and placed at the bottom of the social scale, this vagrant people forms in Russia, as elsewhere, a real tribe of pariahs, whose presence is regarded with disgust, even by the peasants. The government has attempted to settle a colony of these Bedouins of Europe in Bessarabia, but with little success hitherto. True to the traditional usages of their race, the Tsigans abhor every thing belonging to agriculture and regular habits. No bond has ever been found strong enough to check that nomade humour they inherit from their forefathers, and which has resisted the rude climate of Russia and the despotism of its government. Just as in Italy and Spain, they roam from village to village, plying various trades, stealing horses, poultry, and fruit, telling fortunes, procuring by fraud or entreaty the means of barely keeping themselves alive, and infinitely preferring such a vagabond and lazy existence to the comfort they might easily secure with a moderate amount of labour.
Their manner of travelling reminds one of the emigrations of barbarous tribes. Marching always in numerous bodies, they pass from place to place with all they possess. The women, children, and aged persons, are huddled together in a sort of cart called pavoshk, drawn each by one or two small horses with long manes. All their wealth consists of a few coarse brown blankets, which form their tents by night, and in some tools employed in their chief trade, that of farriery.
All travellers who have visited Russia, speak with enthusiasm of the gipsy singing heard in the Moscow salons. No race perhaps possesses an aptitude for music in a higher degree than these gipsies. In many other respects too, their intelligence appeared to us remarkable. A long abode in Moldavia, where there are said to be more than 100,000 Tsigans, enabled us to study with facility the curious habits of this people, and to collect a great number of facts, which would not perhaps be without interest for the majority of readers.[7]
The Tsigans pass the fine season in travelling from fair to fair, encamping for some weeks in the neighbourhood of the towns, and living, heedless of the future, in thorough Asiatic indolence; but when the snows set in, and the northern blasts sweep those vast plains as level as the sea, the condition of these wretched creatures is such, as may well excite the strongest pity. But half clad, cowling in huts sunk below the surface of the ground, and destitute of the commonest necessaries, it is inconceivable how they live through the winter. Horrible as such a state of existence must be, they never give it a thought from the moment the breath of the south enables them to resume their vagrant career. Recklessness is the predominant feature in their character, and the most frightful sufferings cannot force them to bestow a moment's consideration on the future.
The singular apparition that had suddenly arrested my steps by the road side, was that of a troop of gipsies encamped for the night in that lonely spot, about thirty yards from the road, near a field of water-melons. Their pavoshks were arranged in a circle, with the shafts turned upwards, and support the cloths of their tents, which could only be entered by creeping on all fours. Two large fires burned at a little distance from the tents, and round them sat about fifty persons of the most frightful appearance. Their sooty colour, matted hair, wild features, and the rags that scarcely covered them, seen by the capricious light of the flames, that sometimes glared up strongly, and at other moments suddenly sank down and left every thing in darkness, produced a sort of demoniacal spectacle, that recalled to the imagination those sinister scenes of which they have so long been made the heroes.
The history of all that is most repulsive in penury and the habits of a vagrant life, was legible in their haggard faces, in the restless expression of their large black eyes, and the sort of voluptuousness with which they grovelled in the dust; one would have said it was their native element, and that they felt themselves born for the mire with all swarming creatures of uncleanness. The women especially appeared hideous to me. Covered only with a tattered petticoat, their breasts, arms, and part of their legs bare, their eyes haggard, and their faces almost hidden under their straggling locks, they retained no semblance of their sex, or even of humanity.
The faces of some old men struck me, however, by their perfect regularity of features, and by the contrast between their white hair and the olive hue of their skins. All were smoking, men, women, and children. It is a pleasure they esteem almost as much as drinking spirits. What painter's imagination ever conceived a wilder or more fantastic picture!
Hitherto they had not perceived me, but the noise of our carriage, which was rapidly advancing, and my husband's voice, put them on the alert. The whole gang instantly started to their feet, and I found myself, not without some degree of dread, surrounded by a dozen of perfectly naked children, all bawling to me for alms. Some young girls seeing the fright I was in began to sing in so sweet and melodious a manner, that even our Cossack seemed affected. We remained a long while listening to them, and admiring the picturesque effect of their encampment in the steppes, under the beautiful and lucid night sky. No thought of serious danger crossed our minds, and, indeed, it would have been quite absurd; but in any other country than Russia such an encounter would have been far from agreeable.
In the course of the following day we reached Rostof, a pretty little town on the Don, entirely different in appearance from the other Russian towns. You have here none of the cold, monotonous straight lines that afflict the traveller's sight from one end of the empire to the other; but the inequality of the ground, and the wish to keep near the harbour, have obliged the inhabitants to build their houses in an irregular manner, which has a very picturesque effect.
The population, too, a mixture of Russians, Greeks, and Cossacks, have in their ways and habits nothing at all analogous to the systematic stiffness and military drill that seem to regulate all the actions of the Russians. The influence of a people long free has changed even the character of the chancery employes, who are here exempt from that arrogance and self-sufficiency that distinguish the petty nobles of Russia. Hence society is much more agreeable in Rostof than in most of the continental towns. The ridiculous pretensions of tchin (rank) do not there assail you at every step; there is a complete fusion of nationality, tastes, and ideas, to the great advantage of all parties.
This secret influence exercised by the Cossacks on the Russians, is worthy of note, and seems to prove that the defects of the latter are attributable rather to their political system, than to the inherent character of the nation.
Their natural gaiety, kept down by the secret inquisition of a sovereign power, readily gets the upper hand when opportunity offers. The public functionaries associate freely in Rostof, with the Cossacks and the Greek merchants, without any appearance of the haughty exclusiveness elsewhere conspicuous in their class.
One thing that greatly surprised us, and that shows how much liberal ideas are in favour in this town, is the establishment of a sort of casino, where all grades of society assemble on Sunday, to dance and hold parties of pleasure. This is without a parallel elsewhere.
This casino contains a large ball-room, handsome gardens, billiard and refreshment-rooms, and every thing else that can be desired in an establishment of the sort. Though all persons are at liberty to enter without payment, it is nevertheless frequented by the best society, who dance there as heartily as in the most aristocratic salons. All distinctions vanish in the casino: public functionaries, shopkeepers, officers' wives, work-girls, foreigners, persons, in short, of all ranks and conditions mingle together, forming an amusing pell-mell, that reminds one, by its unceremonious gaiety, of the bals champetres of the environs of Paris. Every thing is a matter of surprise to the traveller in this little town, so remote from all civilisation: the hotels are provided with good restaurants, clean chambers, each furnished with a bed, and all appurtenances complete (a thing unheard of everywhere else in the interior of Russia), besides many other things that are hardly to be found even in Odessa.
Rostof is the centre of all the commerce of the interior of the empire, with the Sea of Azov, and with a large portion of the Russian coasts of the Black Sea. Through this town pass all the productions of Siberia, and the manufactured goods intended for consumption throughout the greater part of Southern Russia. These goods are floated down the Volga as far as Doubofka, in the vicinity of Saritzin. They are then carried by land, a distance of about thirty-eight miles to Kahilnitzkaia, where they are embarked on the Don, and conveyed to Rostof, their general entrepot. The barges on the Don and the Volga are flat; 112 feet long, from twenty to twenty-six wide, and about six feet deep. They draw only two feet of water, and cost from 300 to 500 rubles. They are freighted with timber and firewood, mats, bark, pitch, tar, hemp, cables, and cordage, pig and wrought iron, pieces of artillery, anchors, lead, copper, butter, &c. The whole traffic and navigation of the Don, down stream, from Kahalnitzkaia, depends on the arrivals from the Volga. The barges employed on the latter river, being put together with wooden bolts, are taken asunder at Doubofka, and laid with their cargoes in carts, on which they are conveyed to the banks of the Don.[8] Seven or eight days are sufficient for this operation, the expense of which amounts nearly to a quarter of the capital employed. Thus every year the crown and the merchants spend from 850,000 to 1,000,000 rubles at Doubofka. It is reckoned that 10,000 pairs of oxen, on an average, are employed on the road connecting the two rivers. The charge for heavy goods is from sixty to sixty-five kopeks the 100 kilogrammes. The vessels that ascend the Upper Don convey the goods above-named to the government of Voronege and the adjoining ones; besides which, some are freighted with the fruits and wines of the Don. Scarcely any traffic ascends the lower part of the river.
The coasting trade of Rostof is, therefore, brisk, and particularly so since the establishment of the quarantine at Kertch. There were exported from the town, in 1840, for Russian ports, more than 3,500,000 rubles' worth of domestic goods of various kinds, and about 700,000 rubles' worth of provisions, chiefly intended for the armies. Flax-seed and common wool have also become, within the last three years, rather important articles of export to foreign countries. The population of Rostof is about 8000.
Azov, on the other side of the Don, a little below Rostof, is now only a large village. Its long celebrated fortress has been abandoned, and is falling into ruin. It is said to occupy the site of the ancient Tana, built by the Greeks of the Bosphorus.
The fort of Saint Dimitri, built by Peter the Great, between Rostof and Nakhitchevane, has had the same fate as Azov. It was formerly destined to protect the country against the incursions of the Turks, who were then masters of the opposite bank. The post-road traverses its whole length, and then continues all the way to Nakhitchevane, along a raised causeway, and overlooks the whole basin of the river. Nothing can be more varied than the wide landscapes through which one travels along this extended ridge. Behind lies Rostof, with its harbour full of vessels, and its houses rising in terrace rows, one above the other, its Greek churches, and its hanging gardens. On the right is the calm and limpid mirror of the river, spreading out into a broad basin, with banks shaded with handsome poplars. Fishing-boats, rafts, and barges diversify its surface, and give the most picturesque appearance to this part of the landscape. Then in front, Nakhitchevane, the elegant Armenian town, towers before you, the glazed windows of its great bazaars glittering in the sun. Enter the town, and you are surprised by a vision of the East, as you behold the capricious architecture of the buildings, and the handsome Asiatic figures that pass before you.
Impelled by our recollections of Constantinople, we visited every quarter of the town without delay. At the sight of the veiled women, trailing their yellow slippers along the ground with inimitable nonchalance, the Oriental costumes, the long white beards, the merchants sitting on their heels before their shops, and the bazaars filled with the productions of Asia, we fancied ourselves really transported to one of the trading quarters of Stamboul; the illusion was complete. The shops abound with articles, many of which appeared to us very curious. The Armenians are excellent workers in silver. We were shown some remarkably beautiful saddles, intended for Caucasian chiefs. One of them covered with blue velvet, adorned with black enamelled silver plates, and with stirrups of massive silver, and a brilliantly adorned bridle, had been ordered for a young Circassian princess. Here, as in Constantinople, each description of goods has its separate bazaar, and the shops are kept by men only.
This Armenian town, seated on the banks of the Don, in the heart of a country occupied by the Cossacks, is still one of those singularities which are only to be met with in Russia. One cannot help asking what can have been the cause why these children of the East have transplanted themselves into a region, where nothing is in harmony with their manner of being; where the language, habits, and wants of the inhabitants are diametrically opposite to their own, and where nature herself reminds them, by stern tokens, that their presence there is but an accident. It is true that the Armenians are essentially cosmopolitan, and accommodate themselves to all climates and governments, when their pecuniary interests require it. Industrious, intelligent, and frugal, they thrive everywhere, and commerce springs up with their presence, in every place where they settle. Thus it was that Nakhitchevane, the town of traffic par excellence, to which purchasers resort from the distance of twenty-five leagues all round it, arose amidst the wilderness of the Don. It was only Armenians who could have effected such a prodigy, and found the means of prosperity in a retail trade. But nothing has escaped their keen sagacity; every source of profit is largely employed by them. They do not confine themselves to the local trade; on the contrary, there is not a fair in all Southern Russia that is not attended by dealers from Nakhitchevane. The supply of dress and arms to the inhabitants of the Caucasus, still forms one of the principal branches of commerce for these Armenians. They maintain a pretty close correspondence with the mountaineers, and are even accused of serving them as spies. As to their social habits, the Armenians are in Nakhitchevane what they are everywhere else; they may change their country and their garb, but their manners and their usages never undergo any alteration. Their race is like a tree whose trunk is almost destroyed, but which throws up at every point new shoots, invariable in their nature, and differing from each other only in some outward particulars.
The colony of Nakhitchevane dates from the year 1780, when Catherine II. had the greater part of the Armenians of the Crimea transported to the banks of the Don. The colonists are divided into agriculturists and shopkeepers. The former inhabit five villages, containing a population of 4600; the others reside exclusively in the town, which is the chief place of their establishment, and contains about 6000 souls. These Armenians enjoy the same privileges as the Greeks of Marioupol, already mentioned. They are under the control of functionaries chosen by themselves, and it happens very rarely that they are obliged to have recourse to the Russian tribunals.
The following was the decision adopted by the Council of the Empire, in 1841, relatively to the Armenians of New Russia. "The descendants of the Armenians settled at the invitation of the government, in the towns of Karasson Bazar, Starikrim in the Crimea, Nakhitchevane, and Gregorioupol, in the government of Kherson, will continue to pay, not the poll-tax, but the land-tax, and that on houses, according to the privileges granted to their fathers by an ukase of October 28, 1799; whilst those who have settled since that time, as well as all Armenians generally, shall be liable to the poll-tax, in pursuance of an ukase of May 21, 1836; in addition to which they shall pay from January 1, 1841; viz., townspeople and artisans, seven rubles per house, and agriculturists seventeen and a half kopeks per deciatine of land."
FOOTNOTES:
[7] As the plan of the present work does not allow of our entering on the subject in this place, we reserve it for our "Travels in the Principalities of the Danube," to be hereafter published.
[8] The construction of a canal or a railroad between the Don and the Volga has long been talked of. Peter I. began a canal, but the works were soon abandoned. A new project was laid before the government in 1820, the expense of which was estimated at 7,500,000., but it remains still to be realised.
Chapter XIII
GENERAL REMARKS ON NEW RUSSIA--ANTIPATHY BETWEEN THE MUSCOVITES AND MALOROSSIANS--FOREIGN COLONIES--GENERAL ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY, CATTLE, &C.--WANT OF MEANS OF COMMUNICATION --RIVER NAVIGATION; BRIDGES--CHARACTER OF THE MINISTER OF FINANCE--HISTORY OF THE STEAMBOAT ON THE DNIESTR--THE BOARD OF ROADS AND WAYS--ANECDOTE.
New Russia, which we have now traversed in its whole length, from west to east, consists of the three governments of Kherson, Taurid, and Iekaterinoslav. It is bounded on the north by the governments of Podolia, Kiev, Poltava, and Kharkov; on the east by the country of the Don Cossacks, the Sea of Azov, and the Straits of Kertch; on the south by the Black Sea, and on the west by the Dniestr, which divides it from Bessarabia. Its surface may be estimated at 1882 square myriametres. It contains a population of 1,346,515, which makes about 715 inhabitants to a square myriametre.
The existing organisation of the three governments dates from the year 1802. Their territory was successively annexed to the empire, by the treaty of Koutchouk Kainardji, the conquest of the Crimea, and the convention concluded at Jassy, in 1791.
The population of these regions is extremely mixed. The Malorossians (Little Russians) formerly known by the appellation of Cossacks of the Ukraine, form its principal nucleus; then come numerous villages of Muscovites (Great Russians) belonging to the crown and to individuals; colonies of Germans, Greeks, Armenians, Jews, and Bulgarians; the military establishments of Vosnecensk, formed with the Cossacks of the Boug and fugitives from all the neighbouring nations; and lastly the Tatars, who occupy the greater part of the Crimea and the western shores of the Sea of Azov.
Here are certainly very various and heterogeneous elements; nor can there exist between them any religious or political sympathy. The Muscovites and the Malorossians are even very hostile to each other, though professing the same creed and subject to the same laws. In spite of all the efforts of the government, and notwithstanding all the Muscovite colonies disseminated through the country, no blending of the two races has yet been effected. The old ideas of independence of the Cossacks of the Ukraine, are very far from being entirely extinguished, and the Malorossians, who have not forgotten the liberty and the privileges they enjoyed down to the end of the last century, always bear in mind that serfdom was established amongst them only by an imperial ukase of Catherine II. When the Emperor Alexander travelled through the Crimea, in 1820, it is said that he received more than 60,000 petitions from peasants claiming their freedom. Two years afterwards an insurrection broke out at Martinofka, in the environs of Taganrok; but it was speedily put down, and led to nothing but the transportation of some hundreds of unhappy serfs to Siberia.
As for the foreign colonies established in New Russia, the government adapted its regulations at first in strict accordance with their wants. Each of them possessed a constitution in harmony with its manners, its usages, and its state of civilisation, and nothing had been neglected that could prompt the development of their prosperity.
But within the last few years, the principles of political unity have been gaining the upper hand, and all the government measures are tending to assimilate the foreign populations to the free peasants of the crown. It is with this view that the special administrative committees have been suppressed, and the ministry of the domains of the crown has been created. Undoubtedly, as we have already said, when speaking of the German colonies, Russia has an incontestible right to strive to render herself homogeneous; the interests of her policy and her nationality require that she should neglect no means of arriving at a uniform administrative system. Unfortunately, generalisations are still impossible in the empire. Where there are so many conflicting forms of civilisation, the attempt to impose one unvarying system of rule upon so many dissimilar peoples, cannot be unattended with danger, particularly when that system is an exclusive one, and belongs only to one of the least enlightened portions of the population. It is, at this day, quite as impolitic to apply to the German colonists the administrative system practised with the Russian peasants, as it would be absurd to govern the latter like the Germans.
The government would act more wisely if it tried, in the first place, to raise its native subjects to the level of the foreigners, instead of depressing the latter by subjecting them to the same conditions as its 40,000,000 of serfs. The difficulties would no doubt be great; but obstinately to persist in establishing a forced administrative unity by dint of ukases, is nothing short of ruin to those thriving and industrious foreign colonies, which for more than half a century have done so much for the prosperity of the country, by bringing the soil of Southern Russia into productive cultivation; and it is well known, that already, several hundred families have abandoned their settlements and returned to Germany.
The whole of Southern Russia from the banks of the Dniestr to the Sea of Azov, and to the foot of the mountains of the Crimea, consists exclusively of vast plains called steppes, elevated from forty to fifty yards above the level of the sea. The soil is completely bare of forests; it is only in some sheltered localities along the banks of the Dniepr and the other rivers, and in their islands, that we find a few woods of oak, birch, aspen, and willow. The inhabitants of the country are obliged to use for firing, reeds, straw, and the dung of cattle kneaded into little masses like bricks. In Odessa, they import wood from Bessarabia, the Crimea, and the banks of the Danube; but it costs as much as eighty rubles the fathom. English coal is also consumed, and as the merchant vessels carry it as ballast, its cost is very moderate. Within the last few years the native coal from the government of Iekaterinoslav and the Don country, is also beginning to be used throughout Southern Russia.
The growth of wheat and the rearing of cattle, chiefly Merino sheep, are the main sources of wealth in these regions. The best cultivated tracts are, in the first place, those occupied by the German colonies, and next, the environs of Podolia and Khivia. But the most productive soil is, unquestionably, that of the north-east of the government of Iekaterinoslav, where the surface of the country is more varied and better irrigated. Unfortunately, the inhabitants have scarcely any markets for their produce.
The grand want of this part of the empire is, the means of transport. Within the sixty years or thereabouts, during which the Russians have been in possession of these regions, they have founded many towns and erected many edifices to accommodate the public functionaries; but they have completely forgotten the most important thing, the thing without which agriculture and trade can make no progress worth speaking of. There are no causeways anywhere; the roads are mere tracks marked out by two ditches a few inches deep, and a line of posts set up from verst to verst to mark the distance. But usually no account is made of the imperial track, and the wheel-ruts vary laterally over a space of half a league and more. With every fall of rain the course of the road is changed. In winter, when snow-storms and fogs prevail, travelling in New Russia is beset with serious perils. It is then so easy to wander from the route, that travellers are often in danger of losing themselves in the steppes, and dying of cold.
Bridges over the streams and rivers are as rare as causeways, and where any exist they are so defective, that drivers always try to avoid them, and so save their vehicles from the chance of being broken. Whenever the traveller is suddenly roused up from a sound sleep by a violent shock, he may be certain he is passing over a bridge or a fragment of a causeway. Spring and autumn are the seasons when he has most reason to curse the bad management of the Board of Bridges and Roads, for then the roads are impracticable: the smallest gully becomes the bed of a torrent, and communications are often totally interrupted. The consequence is that the transport of goods can only be effected in winter and during four months of summer. Nor must we allow ourselves to imagine that sledging is a very safe mode of carriage; the snow-storms cause great disasters, and if the winter be at all rigorous, an enormous number of draught oxen are lost.
Every one knows what fine rivers nature has bestowed on New Russia. The Dniestr and the Dniepr are two admirable canals, which, after having traversed the central parts of the empire and its most fertile regions, terminate in the Black Sea. Their navigation, if well managed, would certainly compensate largely for the difficulties in the way of constructing roads, and might amply suffice for the wants of the population. But, as we have said in our chapter on the commerce of the Black Sea, every thing in Russia bears deplorable proof of the supineness of the government. It must, however, be owned that it is not to be reproached in every case with want of the will to do better; for recently, upon the enlightened solicitation of Count Voronzof, it was determined to establish on the Donetz, one of the confluents of the Don, a steam-tug to take in tow the coal-barges of the government of Iekaterinoslav.
The two grand obstacles which, in our opinion, impede the accomplishment of useful works in Russia, consist in the self-sufficient incapacity of the ministry of finance, and in the peculation of the functionaries. Count Cancrine[9] may be an excellent bookkeeper; we grant that he possesses no ordinary talent in matters of account; but we believe, and facts demonstrate it, that his administration has greatly diminished the financial resources of the empire. The man possesses not one enlarged idea, no forecast; he sacrifices every thing to the present moment. Every item of expenditure must bring in an immediate profit, or he looks on it as money mis-spent; he can never be brought to understand that all capital expended in promoting agriculture and trade, returns sooner or later to the exchequer with large interest.
In 1840, a landowner, deeply interested in the navigation of the liman of the Dniestr, after many fruitless efforts, at last succeeded by stratagem in inducing him to establish a small steamer on those waters, in order to facilitate the commercial intercourse between Akermann and Ovidiopol. The salt works of Touzla, situated in the vicinity, were to advance the necessary funds to the directory of the steamer, and although that directory was entirely dependent on the government, it was, nevertheless, obliged to enter into an engagement for the repayment of the small sum advanced, within a specified time. The steamboat was set plying; but whether from mismanagement or from other causes, no profit was realised in the first few years; on the contrary, there was some loss. Angry expostulations on the part of the ministry soon followed; and for a while there was an intention of suppressing the new means of communication, though so highly important to both banks. Such is the behaviour of the ministry on all industrial or commercial questions. We shall have many other facts of the same kind to mention, when we come to speak of Bessarabia and the Crimea.
Now for an anecdote exemplifying the proceedings of the Board of Roads and Ways.[10] It was proposed by Count Voronzof in 1838, to have a bridge constructed over a brook that crosses the road from Ovidiopol to Odessa, and which is twice every year converted into a torrent. The chief engineer of the district having estimated the expense at 36,750 rubles, the scheme was discountenanced by the ministry, and the bridge remained unbuilt for four years. In 1841, Count Voronzof visited Bessarabia, and his carriage was near being overturned on the little old bridge by which the brook is crossed. "It is very much to be regretted," said he to M----i, who accompanied him, "that there is not a suitable bridge here; the ministry would not, perhaps, have refused to sanction it, if the engineers had been more moderate in their demands."
Some days afterwards M----i sent for an Italian engineer, and put into his hands a statement of all the measurements on which the government engineers had founded their estimate. The Italian asked at first 8400 rubles, and finally reduced his demand to 6475. M----i hastened to lay his proposal before Count Voronzof, who was amazed, and instantly accepted the terms. The bridge was to be forthwith constructed. It was not long before the chief engineer visited M----i, and beset him with reproaches and remonstrances, to which the former replied thus: "My good sir, I have not slandered you, nor do I bear you the least enmity. I wanted a bridge that I might visit my estate without danger. It is not enough to have a steamer on the liman of the Dniestr, unless one has also the means of making use of it. Your demand for the execution of the works was 36,750 rubles; another person, who has no desire to lose by the job, is content to perform it for 6475. I am sorry you think he has asked too little. Be that as it may, I shall have the bridge, and that was a thing I had set my mind on. Excuse me this once."
We see by this, with what difficulty useful improvements are effected in Russia. The most earnest and laudable purposes are constantly frustrated by the vices of the administrative system. Unhappily there never can be an end to the fatal influence and the tyranny everywhere exercised by the public functionaries, until a radical reform shall have taken place in the social institutions of the empire; but nothing indicates as yet that there is any serious intention of effecting such a system.
FOOTNOTES:
[9] See Appendix, p. 101.
[10] It is needless to say that our remarks do not apply to all the Russian engineers without exception, for we ourselves have known many upright and worthy men amongst them; and these men were the more deserving of esteem, as they always ended by being the victims of their own integrity.
APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XIII.
"Count Cancrine was the only statesman in Russia who possessed some share of learning and general information, though somewhat deficient in the knowledge specially applicable to his own department. He was a very good bookkeeper; but chemistry, mechanics, and technology were quite unknown to him. His sense of duty overbore all feelings of German nationality; he really desired the good of Russia, while at the same time he did not neglect his own affairs, for the care of which his post afforded him peculiar facilities. Colbert's fortune was made matter of reproach to him; a similar reproach may be fairly made against M. Cancrine, even though he leaves to his children the care of expending his wealth. He has amassed a yearly income of 400,000 rubles. 'It will all go,' he says, 'my children will take care of that.'
"He was the most ardent partisan both of the prohibitive and of the industrial system; and the feverish development he gave to manufactures does not redeem the distress of agriculture to which he denied his solicitude. A true Russian would never have fallen into this error, but would have comprehended that Russia is pre-eminently an agricultural country. The question of serfdom found this minister's knowledge at fault. His monetary measures were but gropings in the dark, with many an awkward fall, and sometimes a lucky hit. He deserves credit, however, for having opposed the emperor's wasteful profusion, with a perseverance which the tsar called wrongheadedness, though he did not venture to break with him. It was Mazarine's merit that he gave Colbert to Louis XIV. In appointing M. Vrontshenko as his successor, Count Cancrine has rendered a very ill service to Russia."--Ivan Golovine, Russia under Nicholas I.
Chapter XIV
THE DIFFERENT CONDITIONS OF MEN IN RUSSIA--THE NOBLES-- DISCONTENT OF THE OLD ARISTOCRACY--THE MERCHANT CLASS-- SERFDOM.
The Russian nation is divided into two classes: the aristocracy, who enjoy all the privileges; and the people who bear all the burdens of the state.
We must not, however, form to ourselves an idea of the Russian nobility at all similar to those we entertain of the aristocracies of Germany, or of ante-revolutionary France. In Russia, nobility is not exclusively conferred by birth, as in the other countries of Europe. There every freeman may become noble by serving the state either in a military or a civil capacity; with this difference only, that the son of a nobleman is advanced one step shortly after he enters the service, whilst the son of a commoner must wait twelve years for his first promotion, unless he have an opportunity of distinguishing himself in the meanwhile. Such opportunities indeed are easily found by all who have the inclination and the means to purchase them.
The first important modifications in the constitution of the noblesse were anterior to Peter the Great; and Feodor Alexievitch, by burning the charters of the aristocracy, made the first attempt towards destroying the distinction which the boyars wanted to establish between the great and the petty nobles. It is a curious fact, that at the accession of the latter monarch to the throne, most offices of state were hereditary in Russia, and it was not an uncommon thing to forego the services of a man who would have made an excellent general, merely because his ancestors had not filled that high post, which men of no military talent obtained by right of birth. Frequent mention has of late been made of the celebrated phrase, The boyars have been of opinion and the tzar has ordained, and it has been made the theme of violent accusations against the usurpation of the Muscovite sovereigns. But historical facts demonstrate that the supposed power of the nobility was always illusory, and that the so much vaunted and regretted institution served, in reality, only to relieve the tzars from all personal responsibility. The spirit of resistance, whatever may be said to the contrary, was never a characteristic of the Russian nobility. No doubt there have been frequent conspiracies in Russia; but they have always been directed against the life of the reigning sovereign, and never in any respect against existing institutions. The facility with which Christianity was introduced into the country, affords a striking proof of the blind servility of the Russian people. Vladimir caused proclamation to be made one day in the town of Kiev, that all the inhabitants were to repair next day to the banks of the Dniepr and receive baptism; and accordingly at the appointed hour on the morrow, without the least tumult or show of force, all the inhabitants of Kiev were Christians.
The existing institutions of the Russian noblesse date from the reign of Peter the Great. The innovation of that sovereign excited violent dissatisfaction, and the nobles, not yet broken into the yoke they now bear, caused their monarch much serious uneasiness. The means which appeared to Peter I. best adapted for cramping the old aristocracy, was to throw open the field of honours to all his subjects who were not serfs. But in order to avoid too rudely shocking established prejudices, he made a difference between nobles and commoners as to the period of service, entitling them respectively to obtain that first step which was to place them both on the same level. Having then established the gradations of rank and the conditions of promotion, and desirous of ratifying his institutions by his example, he feigned submission to them in his own person, and passed successively through all the steps of the scale he had appointed.
The rank of officer in the military service makes the holder a gentleman in blood, that is, confers hereditary nobility; but in the civil service, this quality is only personal up to the rank of college assessor, which corresponds to that of major.
The individual once admitted into the fourteenth or lowest class, becomes noble, and enjoys all the privileges of nobility as much as a count of the empire, with this exception only, that he cannot have slaves of his own before he has attained the grade of college assessor, unless he be noble born.
It results from this system that consideration is attached in Russia, not to birth, but merely to the grade occupied. As promotion from one rank to another is obtained after a period of service, specified by the statutes, or sooner through private interest, there is no college registrar (fourteenth class) whatever be his parentage, but may aspire to attain precedence over the first families in the empire; and the examples of these elevations are not rare. It must be owned, however, that the old families have more chance of advancement than the others: but they owe this advantage to their wealth rather than to their personal influence.
With all the apparent liberality of this scheme of nobility, it has, nevertheless, proved admirably subservient to the policy of the Muscovite sovereigns. The old aristocracy has lost every kind of influence, and its great families, most of them resident in Moscow, can now only protest by their inaction and their absence from court, against the state of insignificance to which they have been reduced, and from which they have no chance of recovery.
Had it been necessary for all aspirants to nobility to pass through the wretched condition of the common soldier, it is evident that the empire would not possess one-tenth of its present number of nobles. Notwithstanding their abject and servile condition, very few commoners would have the courage to ennoble themselves by undergoing such a novitiate, with the stick hanging over them for many years. But they have the alternative of the civil service, which leads to the same result by a less thorny path, and offers even comparatively many more advantages to them than to the nobles by blood. Whereas the latter, on entering the military service, only appear for a brief while for form's sake in the ranks, become non-commissioned officers immediately, and officers in a few months; they are compelled in the civil service to act for two or three years as supernumeraries in some public office before being promoted to the first grade. It is true, the preliminary term of service is fixed for commoners at twelve years, but we have already spoken of the facilities they possess for abridging this apprenticeship.
But this excessive facility for obtaining the privileges of nobility has given rise to a subaltern aristocracy, the most insupportable and oppressive imaginable; and has enormously multiplied the number of employes in the various departments. Every Russian, not a serf, takes service as a matter of course, were it only to obtain rank in the fourteenth class; for otherwise he would fall back almost into the condition of the slaves, would be virtually unprotected, and would be exposed to the continual vexations of the nobility and the public functionaries. Hence, many individuals gladly accept a salary of sixty francs a year, for the permission of acting as clerks in some department; and so it comes to pass that the subaltern employes are obliged to rob for the means of subsistence. This is one of the chief causes of the venality and of the defective condition of the Russian administrative departments.
Peter the Great's regulations were excellent no doubt in the beginning, and hardly could that sovereign have devised a more efficacious means of mastering the nobility, and prostrating them at his feet. But now that the intended result has been amply obtained, these institutions require to be modified; for, under the greatly altered circumstances of the country, they only serve to augment beyond measure the numbers of a pernicious bureaucracy, and to impede the development of the middle class. To obtain admission into the fourteenth class, and become a noble, is the sole ambition of a priest's or merchant's son, an ambition fully justified by the unhappy condition of all but the privileged orders. There is no country in which persons engaged in trade are held in lower esteem than in Russia. They are daily subjected to the insults of the lowest clerks, and it is only by dint of bribery they can obtain the smallest act of justice. How often have I seen in the post stations, unfortunate merchants, who had been waiting for forty-eight hours and more, for the good pleasure of the clerk, without daring to complain. It mattered nothing that their papers were quite regular, the noble of the fourteenth class did not care for that, nor would he give them horses until he had squeezed a good sum out of the particularnii tchelovieks, as he called them in his aristocratic pride. The same annoyances await the foreigner, who, on the strength of his passport, undertakes a journey without a decoration at his buttonhole, or any title to give him importance. I speak from experience: for more than two years spent in traversing Russia as a private individual, enabled me fully to appreciate the obliging disposition of the fourteenth class nobles. At a later period, being employed on a scientific mission by the government, I held successively the rank of major, lieutenant-colonel, and colonel; and then I had nothing to complain of; the posting-clerks, and the other employes received me with all the politeness imaginable. I never had to wait for horses, and as the title with which I was decked authorised me to distribute a few cuts of the whip with impunity, my orders were fulfilled with quite magical promptitude.
Under such a system, the aristocracy would increase without end in a free country. But it is not so in Russia, where the number of those who can arrive at a grade is extremely limited, the vast majority of the population being slaves. Thus the hereditary and personal nobility comprise no more than 563,653 males; though all free-born Russians enter the military or civil service, and remain at their posts as long as possible; for once they have returned into private life they sink into mere oblivion. From the moment he has put on plain clothes, the most deserving functionary is exposed to the vexations of the lowest subalterns, who then omit no opportunity of lording over their former superior.
Such social institutions have fatally contributed to excite a most decided antipathy between the old and the new aristocracy; and the emperor naturally accords his preference and his favours to those who owe him every thing, and from whom he has nothing to fear. In this way the new nobles have insensibly supplanted the old boyars. But their places and pecuniary gains naturally attach them to the established government, and consequently they are quite devoid of all revolutionary tendencies. Equally disliked by the old aristocracy whom they have supplanted, and by the peasants whom they oppress, they are, moreover, too few in numbers to be able to act by themselves; and, in addition to this, the high importance attached to the distinctions of rank, prevent all real union or sympathy between the members of this branch of Russian society. The tzar, who perfectly understands the character of this body, is fully aware of its venality and corruption; and if he honours it with his special favour, this is only because he finds in it a more absolute and blind submission than in the old aristocracy, whose ambitious yearnings after their ancient prerogatives cannot but be at variance with the imperial will. As for any revolutions which could possibly arise out of the discontent of this latter order, we may be assured they will never be directed against the political and moral system of the country; they will always be, as they have always been, aimed solely against the individual at the head of the government. Conspiracies of this kind are the only ones now possible in Russia; and what proves this fact is, the impotence of that resentment the tzars have provoked on the part of the old aristocracy, whenever they have touched on the question of emancipating the serfs.
The tzars have shown no less dexterity than the kings of France in their struggles against the aristocracy, and they have been much more favoured by circumstances. We see the Russian sovereigns bent, like Louis XI., on prostrating the great feudatories of the realm; but there was this difference between their respective tasks, that the French nobles could bring armies into the field, and often did so, whereas the Russian nobles can only counteract the power of their ruler by secret conspiracies, and will never succeed in stirring up their peasants against the imperial authority.
What may we conclude are the destinies in store for the Russian nobility, and what part will it play in the future history of the country? It seems to us to possess little inherent vigour and vitality, and we doubt that a radical regeneration of the empire is ever to be expected at its hands. The influence of Europe has been fatal to it. It has sought to assimilate itself too rapidly with our modern civilisation, and to place itself too suddenly on a level with the nations of the west. Its efforts have necessarily produced only corruption and demoralisation, which, by bastardising the country, have deprived it of whatever natural strength it once possessed.
No doubt there are in Russia as elsewhere, men of noble and patriotic sentiments, who feel a lively interest in the greatness and the future destinies of their native land; but they are, perhaps, committed to an erroneous course; and it is to be feared that by adopting our liberal principles in their full extent, and seeking to apply them at home, they will do still more mischief than the obstinate conservatives who suffer themselves to be borne along passively by the current of time and circumstances.
Hence, after having studied the influence of European civilisation on Russia, we are fully prepared to understand the efforts which the Emperor Nicholas is making to isolate his empire as much as possible, and to restore its primitive nationality. Despairing of the destinies of his aristocracy, he, no doubt, wishes to preserve the middle class (whose development will infallibly be effected sooner or later) from the rock on which the former class have made shipwreck of their hopes. And certainly it is not among a few thousand nobles he can hope to find sufficient elements of greatness and prosperity for the present and for future times.
After the nobles come the merchants and burghers, about a million and a half in number, and now constituting the first nucleus of a middle class. They are wholly engrossed with commerce and their pecuniary interests. Among them there are some very wealthy men, and they are allowed to discharge the inoffensive functions of mayors in the towns. The nobility profess almost as much contempt for this class as for the slaves, and are not sparing towards it of injustice and extortion. But the Russian merchant is the calmest and most patient being imaginable, and in comparison with slavery and the sad condition of the soldier, he regards his own lot as the very ideal of good fortune. Down to the reign of Ivan IV., merchants enjoyed tolerably extensive privileges in Russia. They were, it is true, placed below the lowest class of the nobility, just as in our days; but they were considered as a constituent part of the government, were summoned to the great assemblies of the nation, and voted in them like the boyars.
The Emperor Nicholas has sought of late years to raise their body in public estimation, by granting them many prerogatives of nobility; but his efforts have hitherto not been very successful. The only means of giving outward respectability to this important class, would be to afford it admission into the body of the nobles without compelling it to enter the government service. And surely an individual who contributes to develop the trade and commerce of the land, has as strong claims to honorary distinctions as a petty clerk, whose whole life is passed in cheating his superiors, and robbing those who are so unfortunate as to have any dealings with him. Should the emperor ever adopt such a course, there would follow from it another advantage still more important, namely, that it would gradually extinguish the abuses of the present nobiliary system, and would immediately rid the public departments of all those useless underlings, who now encumber the various offices solely with a view to acquire a footing among the privileged orders.
The Russian and foreign merchants, established in the country, are divided into three classes, or guilds. Those of the first guild must give proof of possessing a capital of 50,000 rubles. They have a right to own manufactories, town and country houses, and gardens. They may trade with the interior of the empire, and with foreign countries; they are exempt from corporal punishments, and are privileged like the hereditary nobility to drive four horses in their carriages; but they must pay 3000 rubles for their licence.
Those of the second guild are required to prove only a capital of 20,000 rubles, and their trade is confined to the interior of the empire. They may be proprietors of factories, hotels and boats; but they are not allowed to have more than two horses to their carriages.
The third guild merchants, whose capital needs not exceed 8000 rubles, are the retail dealers of the towns and villages, they keep inns and workshops, and hold booths in the fairs.
The peasants who engage in trade, are not required to prove any capital. The statistics of these several classes, in 1839, were as follows:--
First guild merchants 889 Second " 1,874 Third " 33,808 Peasants having permission to trade 5,299 Clerks 8,345 ------ Total 50,215
The slaves form by far the most considerable part of the population; their numbers, exclusive of those belonging to the crown and to private proprietors, exceed 45,000,000; an enormous amount in comparison with the numbers of the nobles.
We will not enter into any historical details respecting the origin of serfdom in Russia; every one knows that the institution is one of somewhat modern date, and that servitude, though long existing virtually, was established legally in the empire only by an ukase of Boris Godounof. We will confine our remarks to the institution as it exists at the present day.
The slaves are divided into two classes, those belonging respectively to the crown, and to private individuals. The former are under the control of the ministry of the domains of the crown, a special board created January 1st, 1838, and presided over by General Count Kizelev. By law they are required to pay to the crown a capitation tax of fifteen rubles yearly for every male, but this tax is almost always raised to thirty or thirty-five rubles by the rapacity of the government servants. Besides these money contributions, they are subjected to corvees for the repair of the roads and public works, and they may also be required to furnish means of conveyance and food for the troops. For these latter services, it is true, they receive a nominal compensation in the shape of orders payable by treasury, but these are never cashed. Lastly, they are liable to military recruitment, which of late years has annually taken off six out of every 1000 male inhabitants in the governments of New Russia.
In exchange for all these burdens, the peasant receives from the crown the land necessary for his subsistence, the quantity of which varies from ten or eleven deciatines, to one or two, according to the density of the population. Whatever may have been said on the subject, the condition of the crown serf is neither miserable nor destitute, and his slavery cannot but be favourable to physical and animal life, the only life as yet understood by the bulk of the Russian people. Except in years of great dearth, such as often desolate the country, the peasant has his means of existence secured; his dwelling, his cattle, and his little field of buckwheat; and as far as freedom from moral and physical sufferings constitute happiness, he may be considered much better off than the free peasants of the other European states. With plenty of food, his dwelling well warmed in winter, his mind disencumbered of all those anxieties for the future that harass our labouring poor; and endowed by nature with a vigorous constitution, he possesses all the elements of that negative happiness which is founded on ignorance and the want of all awakened sense of man's dignity. The slave besides is so frugal, he needs so little to live, his wants and desires are so circumscribed, that poverty, as it exists in our civilised lands, is one of the rarest exceptions in Russia. But all these conditions of existence constitute a life essentially brutish; and the most wretched being in France would certainly not exchange his lot for that of the Muscovite peasant.
It cannot, however, be questioned that the crown serfs enjoy almost complete liberty. Simply attached to the soil, they are masters of their own time, and may even obtain permission to go and seek employment in the towns, or on the estates of private landowners. Hence, were it not for the difficulties connected with the emancipation of the private serfs, the crown peasants might be declared independent to-morrow, without any sort of danger to the empire. Their physical condition is in perfect harmony with the present state of civilisation, and in this respect the system established by the crown, does not deserve the outcry raised against it. The penury and distress in which the imperial serfs are plunged in some districts, are ascribable solely to the cupidity and corruption of the public functionaries, or to the want of outlets for the produce of the soil, and not to the laws regulating serfdom.
The condition of the slaves on seignorial lands is both morally and physically less satisfactory than that of the crown serfs. They are subject to arbitrary caprice, and to countless vexations, particularly when they belong to small proprietors, or are immediately dependant on stewards. There exist, indeed, very strict regulations for their protection against the undue exactions of their lords; but the latter are, nevertheless, all-powerful through their social position and the posts they fill, and however they may abuse their authority, they are always sure of impunity. Thanks to judicial venality, they know that all appeals to justice against them are futile. There is only one case in which the peasant can hope for a favourable hearing, namely, where there is any ill-will between his master and the higher powers; but his wrongs must be very cruel indeed if they goad him to seek legal redress, for he well knows that sooner or later he will be made to pay dearly for his rebellion. We are bound, however, to acknowledge that the lords often act with the greatest humanity towards the serfs, and they have at last come to understand that in caring for the welfare of their peasants, they are taking the best means to augment their own fortunes. It is only to be regretted that their benevolent efforts are almost constantly paralysed by the rapine and insatiable cupidity of their stewards and agents.
The private slaves, who number about 23,000,000, pay a poll tax of eight rubles for every male to the crown, and must give half their time to their masters. They usually work three days in the week for the latter, and the other three for themselves. Their lord grants them five or six hectares of land, and often more, and all the produce they raise from them is their own. They are required furthermore to supply out of their numbers all the domestic servants requisite for their master's establishment, and to do extra duty labour of various kinds, dependent solely on the caprice of the latter. A peasant cannot quit his village without his master's permission, and if he exercises any handicraft trade whatever, he is bound to pay an annual sum proportioned to his presumed profits. This sum is called his obrok, and is often very considerable; in the case of agricultural and other peasants, it averages fifty rubles. But whatever be the position the serf may have attained to by his talents and his skill, he never shakes off his absolute dependence on his master, one word from whom may compel him to abandon all his business and his prospects, and return to his village. Many of the wealthiest merchants of Moscow have been named to me, who are slaves by birth, and who have in vain offered hundreds of thousands of rubles for their freedom. It flatters the pride of the great patrician families to have men of merit among their serfs, and many of them send young slaves into the towns, and supply them with all the means necessary for pursuing a creditable and lucrative calling.
All the hawkers and pedlars that go from village to village, and from mansion to mansion, from the banks of the Neva to the extremity of Siberia, are slaves, who bring in large profits to their masters; it frequently happens that a pometchik has no other income than that which he thus derives from his peasants.
Marriages between serfs can only take place with the consent of the lord. They are usually consummated at a very early age, and are arranged by the steward, who never consults the parties, and whose sole object is to effect a rapid increase in the population of his village. The average price of a whole family is estimated as ranging from 25_l._ to 40_l._
A great deal has been often said of the boundless attachment of the serfs to their lords; I doubt that it ever existed; at any rate, it exists no longer. The slaves no longer regard with the same resignation and apathy the low estate which Providence has assigned them in this world; the more liberal treatment enjoyed by the imperial serfs, has inoculated them with ideas of independence, and they are all now ambitious of passing into the domain of the crown--a good fortune, which in their eyes is equivalent to emancipation. This tendency of the serfs to detach themselves from the aristocracy is a most important fact, and if the emperor succeeds in regulating this great social movement so that it may be effected without turbulence, he will have rendered a signal service to Russia, and have mightily contributed to the regeneration and future welfare of her people.
Every village has its mayor, called golova, and its starosts, whose number depends on that of the population, there being usually one for every ten families. They are all elected by the community, and to them it belongs to regulate the various labours performed by it, and to apportion and collect the taxes. Whatever petty differences may arise between the peasants, are settled before the starosts or council of elders, whose decisions are always received with blind submission.
Military service is the only corvee which the Russian peasants regard with real horror. Their antipathy to it is universal, and the regiments can only be recruited by main force. There is no conscription in Russia, but whenever men are wanted, an imperial ukase is issued, commanding a certain number to be raised in such or such a government. In the crown lands, it is the head man of the village aided by the district authorities, who selects the future heroes, and this is usually done in secret, in order to prevent desertion. The young men chosen are forthwith arrested, generally in the middle of the night, and remain fettered until they have been inspected by the surgeon, after which they are sent off in small detachments to the regiments, under the guard of armed soldiers. In the seignorial villages, the selection is made by the steward. But the business is here of more difficult execution than in the domains of the crown, and the unfortunate recruit is often chained to an aged peasant, who acts as his keeper, and cannot quit him day or night. I saw two young peasants thus chained to two old men, in a village belonging to General Papof; they spent their time quietly in drinking in the dram-shops, without exciting any surprise in the spectators. When we reflect on the privations and sufferings that await the Muscovite soldier, we cannot wonder at the intense repugnance the peasants entertain for the service.
The military spirit, so potent elsewhere, scarcely exists in the empire. Glory and honour are things for which the Russian serfs care very little, nor have they any conception of the magic that lies in the words "Our country," "Our native land." The only country they know is their village, their stove, their kasha, the patch of ground they daily cultivate, and that mud which a French grenadier lifted up with his foot, exclaiming, "And this they call a country!" "ils appellent cela une patrie!" At the same time, it is evident that this antipathy of the Russians for military service, is to be attributed as much to the political constitution of the empire, as to the character of the inhabitants; and as that constitution has hitherto been a national necessity, it would be unjust to charge as a crime upon the government, the unhappy moral condition of its armies. We shall speak at more length in another place, on the subject of the Russian soldiery.
Moral and intellectual instruction have hitherto made very little way among the slave population. Attempts indeed have been made to found schools in some of the crown villages, but these attempts have been always ill-directed, and necessarily unsuccessful. Religion which everywhere else constitutes the most potent instrument of civilisation, can have in Russia no favourable effect on the improvement of the people. Consisting solely in fasts, crossings, and outward ceremonies, it leaves the mind totally uninfluenced, and in no respect acts as a bar to the demoralisation which is gradually pervading the immense class of the serfs. The peculiar circumstances of the Russian towns and villages are also perhaps among the greatest obstacles to intellectual progress. The advance of civilisation depends in a great measure on facility of intercourse. When a population is compact, and its several members are continually in presence of each other, each man's knowledge is propagated among his compatriots, facts and opinions are discussed, and men become mutually enlightened as to what is thought and done around them. From this continual interchange of mental wealth, there naturally arises an amount of enlightenment and capacity that tends greatly to extend the domain of thought. But let any one cast his eyes on Russia, and he will be struck by the unfavourable manner in which its population is distributed. Not only are the great centres of population very thinly scattered over the surface, but the several dwellings too in the towns are placed very wide apart, and those of the villages still more so. Every man is isolated, every man lives by and for himself, or at least within a very contracted sphere. Social meetings are rare, and in winter almost impossible; in a word, it is not at all unusual for people not to know their neighbours on the opposite side of the street; hence the invariable nesnai (I do not know) with which the Russian replies to every question the traveller puts to him, ought not to astonish or incense the latter. At first I was disposed to think this ignorance was pretended, and to attribute it to sulkiness and indolence; but I afterwards perceived that it was occasioned in much greater measure by the absurd style of building adopted in the country.
Another thing that tends to enervate the Russians and keep them in their brutified condition, is the immoderate use of brandy, to which both men and women are addicted. It is truly deplorable that the government feels constrained to favour the sale of that pernicious liquor which forms its most important source of revenue. How often have I seen the dram-shops full of women dead drunk, who had left their poultry yards tenantless, and sold their household furniture to gratify their fatal passion.
A thing by which I have always been much struck in Russia, is the stationary uniformity which prevails over the whole surface of the empire, both in ideas and in physical productions. You see everywhere the same plans and arrangements of the buildings, the same implements, and the same agricultural practices and modes of carriage. Contact with foreigners has as yet had no influence on the Sclavonic population, and the prosperity generally enjoyed for sixty years by the German colonies has done little in the way of example. Is this intellectual insensibility the result of servitude exclusively? I think not. Servitude may indeed repress, but it cannot extinguish, the various qualities with which nature has endowed us; and if the Russians are still so backward, and give so little promise of improvement, we must explain the fact by the nature of their race, by their still infant state as a nation, and their want of precedents in civilisation. At the same time there is no reason to despair of them. In our opinion, the future civilisation of Russia rests in a great measure on the contingency of a religious reformation; but as that reformation could not but be hazardous to absolute power by awakening ideas of independence and resistance to oppression, the government impedes it by every means in its power, and labours unceasingly to reduce all the inhabitants of the empire to religious uniformity, as is proved by its conduct towards the United Greeks of Poland, and towards the Douckoboren and the Molokaner. I had opportunities of observing among the members of the two latter communities, how great an influence a change of religion may have on the character and intellect of the Russians. The Douckoboren and the Molokaner differ essentially in this respect from the other subjects of the empire. Activity, probity, intelligence, desire of improvement, all these qualities are developed among them to the highest degree, and after having consorted with the Germans for fifteen years, they have completely appropriated all the agricultural ameliorations, and even the social habits of those foreign colonists. Among the Russian peasants on the contrary, whether slave or free, a complete immobility prevails, and nothing can force them out of the old inevitable rut. All the efforts and all the encouragements of the government have hitherto been of no avail.
The emancipation of the slaves seems earnestly to occupy the Emperor Nicholas; and the measures adopted of late years testify in favour of his generous intentions. Unfortunately, the task is beset with difficulties for the legislator, and an abrupt attempt to make the Russian people independent, would infallibly expose the empire to the greatest dangers.
There are in the Russian slave two natures, essentially distinct: the one, destitute of all energy, of all vitality, is the result of the servitude under which the nation has bent for ages; the other, a bequest of barbarism, starting into action at the breath of liberty, is prompt to the most alarming excesses, and inspires the revolted serf with the desire, above all things, to massacre his master. Emancipation, therefore, is not so easy as certain philanthropists would believe it to be, and the details we have just given may enable one to conceive all the mischiefs that might ensue from it.
The greatest obstacle to this social metamorphosis is presented by the private slaves, the majority of whom belong to the hereditary aristocracy; it is especially on the part of this class that premature liberty might occasion fatal and bloody reactions, which would endanger the empire itself, though immediately directed against the lords only. Accordingly the tzar, who is not ignorant of these facts, does all in his power to withdraw the serfs from their proprietors, and bring them into the crown domain: hence the position of the serfs has been considerably altered within the last few years. Slaves can now no longer be purchased without the lands to which they are attached. Formerly owners often hired out their slaves: they can now only grant them passports for three years, and the serf himself chooses the master he will serve, and the kind of labour to which he will apply himself.
It was evidently with a view to the same end that a bank was created some years ago in St. Petersburg, for the purpose of rendering pecuniary assistance to the aristocracy. Every proprietor can borrow from the bank at eight per cent., on a mortgage of his lands. But by the rules of the institution, when the term of payment is past, the property of a defaulting creditor may be immediately sequestrated to the crown. What the government foresaw has happened, and does happen daily, and it has acquired numerous private estates, and incorporated them with the imperial domains.
A new ukase respecting the emancipation of the slaves which was issued in 1842, fixed the relative position of freedmen and their former lords. The measure was shaped so as to give the government a direct influence conducive to the gradual emancipation of the population. The owners were left, as before, the power of emancipating their serfs; but by the terms of the ukase, they could only do so in accordance with certain rules, and with the express sanction of the emperor. This ukase excited so much dissatisfaction among the old noblesse, that the tzar was induced subsequently to neutralise its effect by a police enactment. The primary end was, nevertheless, obtained, and the ukase dealt a heavy blow to the subsisting relations between lord and serf.[11] We believe, nevertheless, that the course adopted by the Emperor Nicholas (by the advice, no doubt, of Count Kizilev) is erroneous, and that the last ukases are impolitic. Do what it will, the government will never succeed in liberating the private slaves without the co-operation of their owners. It is impossible to think of making all the peasants exclusively serfs of the crown; such a means of emancipation is impracticable, for it implies that the government should remain, in the last result, sole possessor of all the lands in the empire, and that the nobility, great and small, should be infallibly ruined. In our opinion, the last ukases have only served to make emancipation more difficult, by exciting hatred between masters and slaves, and fostering the germs of a dangerous rebellious spirit. The Russians are still so backward in civilisation, that ideas of independence, abruptly and incautiously introduced amongst them, would be very likely to cause disastrous convulsions. Liberty must reach them gradually; and above all, it is absolutely necessary that they should be prepared, by instruction, to exchange their slavery for a better state of things. Otherwise, with their present character, liberty, after being first summed up by them in the privilege of doing nothing, in pillage and massacre, would inevitably end in wretchedness and destitution. In the treatment of this great social question, it is before all things necessary that the government should come to a fair understanding with the nobles, and labour conjointly with them for the regeneration of the slave population: it is only by earnest mutual aid that those two powers will ever succeed in advancing the cause of emancipation without imminent peril to the empire. But in any case, there is no denying the many difficulties of this enterprise, no answering for all future contingencies. Considerations connected with landed property will probably long defeat all efforts in this direction, unless the peasants be freely permitted to become landowners, on payment of a certain sum for the redemption of their persons, and the purchase of the land requisite for their subsistence. This seems to us the only rational, nay, the only possible means, of arriving at complete emancipation without violence. No doubt if such a privilege be granted to the peasants, the present improvident and prodigal race of nobles will be rapidly dispossessed; but this will not occasion the country any serious inconvenience, and the new order of things will but favour the development of the middle class, in which really reside, in our day, all the strength and prosperity of a nation.
As for the clergy, whose numbers amount to about 500,000, both males and females, we mention them here only to repeat our declaration of their nullity and immorality. Utterly unacquainted with any thing pertaining to polity and administration, having nothing to do with public instruction, and being in their own persons ignorant to excess, the priests enjoy no sort of influence or consideration, and are occupied solely with corporeal things. We will not enter further into this subject. We are loath to unveil completely the vices and ignoble habits that distinguish the priests of the orthodox Russian church.
The following is a general table of the Russian population as published by the ministry in 1836:
Clergy. | Males. | Females. | | Orthodox Greek clergy of all grades, | | including the families of ecclesiastics | 254,057 | 240,748 United Greek | 7,823 | 7,318 Catholic | 2,497 | Armenian | 474 | 343 Lutheran | 1,003 | 955 Reformed | 51 | 37 Mahommedan Mollahs | 7,850 | 6,701[A] Buddhist Lamas | 150[B]| | | Nobility. | | | | Hereditary nobles | 284,731 | 253,429 Personal nobles, including the children | | of officers | 78,922 | 74,273 Subaltern functionaries, retired soldiers, | | and their families | 187,047 | 237,443 | | Populations bound to military | | service in time of war. | | | | Cossacks of the Don, the Black Sea, the | | Caucasus, Astrakhan, Azov, and the | | Danube, Orenburg and the Ural, and of | | Siberia, Bashkirs, and Mestcheriaks | 950,698 | 981,467 | | Inhabiting towns, or included | | in the municipalities. | | | | Merchants of the three guilds, including | | notable bourgeois. | 131,347 | 120,714 Bourgeois and artisans | 1,339,434 | 1,433,982 Bourgeois in the towns of the | | western provinces | 7,522 | 6,966 Greeks of Nejine, armourers of Toula, | | apprentices in the pharmacies, and | | others, brokers in the towns, and | | functionaries in the service of the | | municipalities | 10,882 | 10,940 Inhabitants of the towns of Bessarabia | 57,905 | 56,176 | | Inhabiting the rural districts. | | | | Serfs of the crown and the apanages |10,441,399 |11,022,595 Serfs of the seignorial lands |11,403,722 |11,958,873 | | Nomade races, such as | | | | Kalmucks, Khirghis, Turkmans, Tatars | 254,715 | 261,982 Inhabitants of the Transcaucasian Provinces | 689,147 | 689,150 Kingdom of Poland | 2,077,311 | 2,110,911 Grand Duchy of Finland | 663,658 | 708,464 Russian colonies in America | 30,761 | 30,292 +-------------+---------- Total |28,883,106 |30,213,759
[A: These figures are evidently misplaced. Ought they to stand for Catholic nuns?--Translator.]
[B: This number is quite erroneous, for we ourselves found several hundred priests among the Kalmucks of the Volga. The encampment of Prince Tumene, which we visited, alone possesses more than 200.]
Soldiers and sailors in actual service, their wives and families, not having been included in this total, the gross amount of the population of the empire appears to be about 61,000,000,--at least if we may judge from the ministerial table, the correctness of which we by no means guarantee.
According to the report of the ministry of the interior, the part of the population of European Russia not belonging to the orthodox Greek church, was, in 1839, as follows:
Catholics 2,235,586 Gregorian Armenians 39,927 Catholic Armenians 28,145 Protestants 1,500,000 Mohammedans 1,530,726 Jews 1,069,440 Buddhists 65,000 --------- Total 6,868,824
FOOTNOTES:
[11] We have not the honour of being acquainted with the Emperor of Russia's secret thoughts, and we willingly ascribe to a certain liberalism all the ukases concerning the emancipation of the slaves; it is possible, however, that the tzar's measures may have been prompted, in a great degree, by the fears with which he regards an aristocracy still possessing more than 20,000,000 of slaves.
Chapter XIV
CONSTITUTION OF THE EMPIRE; GOVERNMENTS--CONSEQUENCES OF CENTRALISATION; DISSIMULATION OF PUBLIC FUNCTIONARIES-- TRIBUNALS--THE COLONEL OF THE GENDARMERIE--CORRUPTION-- PEDANTRY OF FORMS--CONTEMPT OF THE DECREES OF THE EMPEROR AND THE SENATE--SINGULAR ANECDOTE; INTERPRETATION OF A WILL --RADICAL EVILS IN THE JUDICIAL ORGANISATION--HISTORY AND PRESENT STATE OF RUSSIAN LAW.
The existing division of the Russian empire into fifty-six governments dates from the reign of the Emperor Paul. A nearly similar organisation existed indeed in the time of Catherine II., but the functions of the governors had a much wider range at that period than in our days, and those administrators, called by the empress her stewards, enjoyed nearly sovereign power.
The Russian governments correspond to the French departments, the districts to sub-prefectures; each government has its chief town, which is the seat of the different civil and military administrations.
The governor, who has the exclusive charge of the civil administration, nominates to various secondary places, is the head of the college of prevoyance, and ex-officio inspector of the schools, can demand an account of their proceedings of all the provincial authorities except the high court, and determines administrative questions with the aid of a council of regency composed of two councillors and a secretary, nominated by the emperor.
At first sight the governor's power seems unlimited; and indeed he has all the authority requisite to do mischief, but very little to do good. In Russia the most laudable intentions and the most brilliant capabilities are completely paralysed, and the chief administrators must, whether they will or not, undergo the disastrous consequences of the venality and corruption of their subordinates. Distrust and suspicion have been made the essential basis of the organisation of the bureaucracy. By surrounding the high functionaries with a multitude of employes, and subjecting them to countless formalities, it was thought the abuses of power would be hindered; and all that is come of it is the creation of an odious class, who use the weapons put into their hands to cheat the government, rob individuals, and prevent honest men from labouring for the prosperity of their country. The governors have not even the right of inquest in judicial questions, and the judges may, by entrenching themselves behind the text of the rules, pronounce the most iniquitous sentences with impunity. I have known some true-hearted and generous administrators, but all after struggling for long years to arrive at some sage reforms, at last gave up their efforts in despair, and most of them fell into disgrace through the multiplied intrigues of their subordinates. In each chief town it is the secretary, the head of the chancery, who is the real wielder of the power of government. He alone is regarded as knowing the text of the Russian laws; so that, in order to oppose any measure of the governor's, he has but to cite a few phrases, more or less obscure, from the code of regulations, and it very rarely happens that his principal ventures, without his approbation, to take on himself the responsibility of any administrative act. There have been instances in which governors, disregarding bureaucratic formalities, and acting for themselves, have impeded the execution of a decree of the tribunals; but they have never failed to expiate their audacity by dismissal, unless they were supported by a high social position and potent protectors.
Furthermore, the representatives of government are so cramped in their powers, that a governor-general, who often rules over several millions of men, cannot dispose of 200_l._ without the sanction of the ministry.
Centralisation, no doubt, has its advantages; but in a country so vast, and of such varied wants as Russia, it is impossible that a minister, be his talents what they may, can ever satisfy the reasonable demands of all parts of the empire. The consequence is that the most useful projects are almost always neglected or rejected in the provinces remote from the capital.
Another evil, not less deplorable, is the necessity of practising mutual deception, under which the public functionaries labour. A public servant never thinks of making known to his superior the real situation of the country he governs: either he ridiculously exaggerates the good, or he is absolutely silent as to what is bad. In the latter case, he acts only in accordance with the imperative dictates of prudence, for if he declared the truth he would infallibly incur disgrace, and would even run the risk of being dismissed. So whenever a public calamity happens, it is only at the last extremity, and when the mischief is become irremediable, that he makes up his mind to call for an aid that usually comes not at all, or else is sure to come too late.
This profound dissimulation, joined with the jealousy which the distinctions of rank excite among the employes, does incalculable damage to the empire by impeding every useful reform. However, of all the sovereigns of the empire, the Tzar Nicholas is, perhaps, the one to whom truth and plain dealing are most welcome, and with whom well-grounded censure finds most acceptance. Unfortunately, since Potemkin's mystifications, falsehood has become a normal thing with the Russian employes, and the basis of all their proceedings, and hitherto the imperial will has been incapable of eradicating this fatal evil.
The superior court of justice sitting in the chief place of each government, and comprising a civil and a criminal section, consists of two presidents, two councillors, two secretaries, and eight assessors, four of whom are burghers. The emperor endeavoured in 1835 to extend the rights of the nobility, by making the offices of president and judge in these tribunals elective, but this change appears to have produced but very unfavourable results. As all the great proprietors had very little inclination to fill such offices, the electors had no opportunity of making a good choice, and at last it was found necessary to return to the old institutions.
The superior court of justice decides finally in all civil cases, in which the sum in dispute does not exceed 500 rubles. Over it are the various departments of the senate and the general assembly, resident partly in St. Petersburg, and partly in Moscow, and constituting two courts to which appeals lie from the governmental courts. There is no appeal from the decisions of the general assembly of the senate, or from those of the council of the empire approved by the emperor, except on the ground of misrepresentations in the evidence.
In the district courts (corresponding to the French tribunaux de premiere instance) there are also two sections, civil and criminal, consisting each of a president, a secretary, having under him several employes who constitute the chancery, and four assessors, two of whom are chosen from among the inhabitants of the rural district. These latter sit only in cases where peasants are concerned.
There is likewise in each governmental chief town, and in each district town, an inferior court, specially charged with the affairs of the rural police, the taking of informations in criminal affairs, summary jurisdiction as to minor offences, and the execution of sentences. This court consists of a president, called ispravnik, and four assessors, two of them nobles, two peasants. These judges, who are all elected by the nobles, are assisted by a secretary, the only employe directly dependent on the government.
The chief towns and the district towns have also a sort of municipal council, consisting of a mayor (golova), and four assistants, elected by the municipality, and afterwards approved of by the government. This council acts also as a tribunal, and takes cognizance of all the petty cases of litigation that may arise among the townsfolk. A nearly similar institution exists among the peasants of the empire.
We will not speak of the colleges of wards, the committees of the nobles presided over by the marshals of the nobles, the courts of conscience which try cases between parents and children, &c. The members of all these institutions are elected, but their functions are too insignificant to demand mention here.
One of the most influential personages in each government, is the colonel of the gendarmerie, who is completely independent of the governor. He is the head of the secret police, corresponds directly with the minister, and has it in his power, if he is an honest man, to do much good by the rigorous control he can exercise over all the employes of a province.
This justiciary scheme is in itself very liberal, and ought, one would suppose, to satisfy the wants of the population; but like the governors, the judges of the different tribunals are in fact but puppets, moved at the discretion of the subordinate clerks, who alone are masters of the tricks and quibbles of Russian jurisprudence, and legal practice. The lowest clerk in a chancery has often more influence than the president himself, and the suitor who refuses to be squeezed by him may be quite certain that he will never see the termination of his cause. It is impossible to imagine with what adroitness all these fellows, many of whom receive for salary only sixty or a hundred rubles a year, manage to sweat the purses of those who require their assistance. Justice is continually violated in favour of the highest bidder, and thanks to the number of contradictory ukases which pass for laws, the most audacious robberies are unblushingly committed without the possibility of redress. It may be asserted with truth, that the jurisdictional authority in Russia resides in the offices of court rather than in the persons of the judges. The secretary is the omnipotent arbiter of sentences, and dictates them under the influence of money and the bureaucracy.
Nothing can give an idea of the arts of knavery and chicane put in practice to fleece the unfortunates who have to do with the underlings of justice. The rigorous stickling for forms, and the multitude of papers, are a curse to the country; no business is done by word of mouth in Russia.[12] All law proceedings are carried on in writing; the slightest question and the most trivial explanation must be put down on stamped paper according to the appointed forms. Hence it may be conceived that with the horrible spirit of chicanery that characterises the employes, and the readiness with which they can find a flaw (a krutchuk as they call it), in every paper, legal proceedings are spun out to an indefinite length, and scarcely end until both parties are ruined, or until the one prevails over the other by dint of money and corruption. I have often known a document to be sent back from St. Petersburg after a lapse of six months, merely because this or that phrase was not written according to rule. The government of Bessarabia alone paid 63,000_l._ for stamps, in the course of four years, and the population of that province does not exceed 500,000. The want of publicity, moreover, has the most pernicious influence on the administration of justice. All judgments are made up in secret; there are no open pleadings; law processes consist from first to last in piles of paper, which enrich the judges and their subordinates, but in no-wise affect their opinions, which are always based on the most advantageous offers.
This woful state of things is further aggravated by the fact that the judges are secure from all responsibility; in whatever manner they decide a cause, they always do so in accordance with the laws, provided they observe the due forms; but what is really incredible, is the impudence with which the lowest tribunal of a district town presumes to annul both the decrees of the emperor and those of the general assembly of the senate. I will mention in illustration a certain suit brought against the heirs of a rich landowner in Podolia, who was deeply indebted at his death to the imperial bank of St. Petersburg and to several foreign bankers. These latter having become creditors before the bank, naturally claimed to be paid in the first instance. The consequence was a suit, which had been going on for twelve years when I arrived in Russia. The foreigners were defeated in the district court, but they gained their cause successively in the governmental court and the general assembly of the senate, and finally they obtained a decree in their favour from the emperor himself; but the district tribunal, under pretext that certain regulations had been violated, took upon itself to annul all the decisions of the senate, and to make the whole suit be begun over again.
It sometimes happens, however, that the imperial will is declared in so positive a manner, that all the tricks and subterfuges of judges and secretaries must give way to it. Here is an anecdote that conveys a perfect notion of what law means in Russia. In Alexander's reign the Jesuits had made themselves all-powerful in some parts of Poland. A rich landowner and possessor of 6000 peasants at Poltzk, the Jesuit head-quarters, was so wrought on by the artful assiduities of the society that he bequeathed his whole fortune to it at his death, with this stipulation, that the Jesuits should bring up his only son, and afterwards give him whatever portion of the inheritance they should choose. When the young man had reached the age of twenty, the Jesuits bestowed on him 300 peasants. He protested vehemently against their usurpation, and began a suit against the society; but his father's will seemed clear and explicit, and after having consumed all his little fortune, he found his claims disowned by every tribunal in the empire, including even the general assembly of the senate. In this seemingly hopeless extremity he applied to a certain attorney in St. Petersburg, famous for his inexhaustible fertility of mind in matters of cunning and chicanery. After having perused the will and the documents connected with the suit, the lawyer said to his client, "Your business is done; if you will promise me 10,000 rubles I will undertake to procure an imperial ukase reinstating you in possession of all your father's property." The young man readily agreed to the bargain, and in eight days afterwards he was master of his patrimony. The decision which led to this singular result rested solely on the interpretation of the phrase they shall give him whatever portion they shall choose, which plainly meant, as the lawyer maintained, that the young man was entitled exclusively to such portion as the Jesuits chose, i. e., to that which they chose and retained for themselves. The emperor admitted this curious explanation; the son became proprietor of 5700 peasants, and the Jesuits were obliged to content themselves with the 300 they had bestowed on their ward in the first instance. Assuredly the most adroit cadi in Turkey could not have decided the case better.
We have already seen that litigants can appeal to the governmental court, and again to the general assembly of the senate, in all suits for more than five hundred rubles. This privilege instead of being advantageous, appears to us to be highly the reverse. In France, where distances are short, and where justice is administered with a promptitude and impartiality elsewhere unexampled, the appeal to the court of cassation affords the most precious guarantee for the equitable application of the laws. Besides this, it only gives occasions to a revision of the documents in the case, and to a new trial before another tribunal if there have been any error of form; but in Russia, where distances are immense, and where all things conspire to render suits interminable, litigants from the provinces can only ruin themselves by using their right of recourse to the tribunals of St. Petersburg. I have known landowners who spent twenty years of their lives in prosecuting a suit in the capital, and who died without having obtained judgment. It must be acknowledged, however, that appeals to St. Petersburg are justified to a certain extent by the deplorable nature of governmental justice.
The last radical vice we have to mention has its origin in the nobiliary system of Peter the Great, in inadequate salaries and the want of a special body of magistrates. We have seen the necessity entailed on all freemen of entering the service of the state and acquiring a more or less elevated rank, the consequence is, that all the public departments are overburdened with employes; and as most of them have no patrimony and are very scantily paid, sometimes not paid at all, they are of course driven to dishonest shifts for their livelihood. Even the heads of departments are not sufficiently remunerated to be safe from the many temptations that beset them. The government has indeed augmented their salaries at various times, but never in a sufficient degree to produce any desirable reform in their conduct. The office of judge, too, is not regarded with sufficient respect and consideration to make it an object of ambition to the high nobility; it is filled in all instances by the lowest privileged class in the empire, or bestowed as a recompense on retired military men. This will no doubt appear extraordinary; but it must be remembered that there exists as yet in Russia no distinct corps of magistrates, nor any official class of lawyers; the members of the several tribunals, whether elected by the nobles, or nominated by the emperor, are by no means expected to be acquainted with jurisprudence and the laws, and if any among them have studied law in the universities this is a mere accident. Those of them who are honest, judge according to their conscience and their common sense; the others give their voices for those who have bought them.
It is the same with the senate, the supreme judicial court in the empire. It consists only of military veterans, and superannuated servants of the state; in a word, of men who know nothing whatever of law. Hence it is easy to conceive the unlimited power exercised in all these courts by the government secretaries, who, when they know by heart the some thousands of ukases that form what is called the imperial code, pass for eminent lawyers in the eyes of the Russians.
The same evil affects, to an equal degree, all the administrative departments. In Russia, no calling or profession has its limits strictly defined; a man passes indifferently from one service to another. A cavalry officer, for instance, will be nominated as director of a high school, an old colonel as head of a custom-house, and so forth.
In addition to the laws which are peculiar to it, Russian legislation evidently comprises two foreign elements, the German and the Roman. Germanic law was introduced into Russia by the Varengians, a branch of the Northman stock. To the leaders of those warriors the country owes the origin of its feudal system. Subsequently, when the Russians were converted to Christianity, Vladimir adopted certain parts of the Roman law as modified by the Byzantines. But if we may judge from the documents furnished by the Nestorian chronicle, it would appear, that previously to that epoch, the Russians had already borrowed some particulars from the Roman code, and blended them with their customary law of indigenous and German origin.
The first written code mentioned in Russian history, is that of Jaroslav, who reigned in the beginning of the thirteenth century; from that period the country remained quite stationary, in consequence of the continual wars and troubles occasioned by its territorial division; and more than a century of suffering and anarchy prepared the nation to submit without resistance to a foreign yoke.
It was in 1218 that the Tatars crossed the Volga and seized the dominions of the tzars; and whilst Europe, under the energetic influence of the crusades and of the lights of the Lower Empire, was sapping the edifice of feudalism, and labouring towards its future glorious emancipation, Russia remained for more than 300 years in ignominious thraldom, taking no part in the great intellectual movement of the fifteenth century, retrograding rather than advancing, debasing its national character day by day, and thus heaping up against the progress of civilisation, obstacles which the genius of its modern sovereigns has not yet been able to annihilate.
In the ever memorable reign of Ivan III. the Tatars were expelled from the greater part of Russia, the dissensions caused by the parcelling out of the empire were extinguished, the several principalities were united into a single body, and legislative labours were resumed after four hundred years of inaction.
Ivan III. had a collection made of all the old judicial constitutions, and published, with the assistance of the metropolitan Jerome, a collection of laws, which is not without merit, considering the period when it was made. But this code allowed wager of battle; and murder, arson, and highway robbery, continued to be judged in the lists.
About 1550, Ivan IV. surnamed the Terrible, completed the code of laws promulgated by his grandfather, Ivan III. and put a check upon the territorial aggrandisements of the clergy. The new code, known by the name of Sudebnick, remained in force almost without any change, until the accession of the tzar Alexis Michaelovitz (father of Peter the Great), who, having collected the laws of the several provinces of the empire, published them in 1649, under the title of Ulogenie. This collection, the first printed in Russia, was begun and completed within the space of two months and a half; but notwithstanding its imperfection, it has nevertheless, served as the foundation on which all subsequent improvements have been based.
Since the reign of Peter the Great, ten commissions have been successively employed in the codification of the Russian laws. We will not enter into the details of the changes introduced by them: on this subject, the work published by M. Victor Foucher, and the "Coup d'oeil sur la legislation Russe," by M. Tolstoi, may be consulted with advantage. The tenth commission was appointed in 1804, and sat until 1826. It applied itself earnestly to the construction of the civil, penal, and criminal codes; but numerous difficulties prevented it from completing its task.
On his accession to the throne, the Emperor Nicholas promised at first a new code which should correct and complete its predecessors. But the difficulties were too great, and he ended by adopting a digest, which merely classified according to their subjects all the existing laws promulgated since the general regulation of 1649, effected by Alexis Michaelovitz. In 1826, he laid down the following rules for this revision.
1. Enactments fallen into desuetude to be excluded.
2. All repetitions to be suppressed, by choosing among statutes to the same effect that one which is most complete.
3. The spirit of the law to be preserved by expressing in a single rule the substance of all those that treat of the same matter.
4. The acts from which each law is drawn are to be exactly set forth.
5. Between two contradictory laws, the preference to be given to the more recent.
The design of the Emperor Nicholas was speedily carried into effect. The complete collection of the laws of the empire was published in 1830; and on the 31st of January, the tzar announced in a manifesto that the classification of the law as a systematic body was terminated. The matter was then spoken of in the Russian journals in 1830:
"The second section of the private chancery of his majesty the emperor has just finished printing the first collection of the laws of the Russian empire from 1649 to December 12, 1825 in forty-five volumes, 4to.
"This collection consists of four principal parts: 1, the text of the laws from the general regulation of 1649 to the first manifesto of the Emperor Nicholas (December 12, 1825), in forty volumes. This part comprises 30,920 laws, rules, treaties, and acts of various kinds; 2, a general index containing a chronological table, which is in some sort a juridical dictionary for Russia; 3, a book of the appointments of civil functionaries and of the administrative expenditure and the tariffs from 1711 to 1825, to the number of 1351; 4, a book of the plans and designs pertaining to the several laws.
"The laws and acts belonging to the reign of his majesty the Emperor Nicholas, will form the second collection beginning on the 12th of December, 1825. The printing is already begun, and it will appear in the course of the year. A supplement to it will afterwards be published every year.
"The laws anterior to the year of 1649, which are generally considered as obsolete, but which are nevertheless of high importance as regards, history, will form a separate collection under the name of the ancient laws.
"This first collection was begun in 1826, and finished on the 1st of March, 1830. The printing began on the 21st of May, 1828, and ended on the 1st of April last, at the press of the second section of his majesty's chancery. For the composition of this collection, it has been necessary to collate and extract from 3396 books of laws. The forty volumes of the text, and the volume of the chronological index, contain 5284 printed sheets.
"This book will be ready for sale on the 1st of June at the printing-office. The price of the forty-five volumes is 500 paper rubles.
"By a rescript of the 5th of April last, addressed to the privy-councillor Dashkof, adjunct of the minister of justice and director of that ministry, his majesty the emperor notifies to him the order he has given to furnish copies of the collection to all the departments of the senate, and to all the tribunals and administrations of the government, and directs him to concert with the ministers of finance and of the interior for the prompt delivery of these books in all the governments, so that they may be kept and employed in due manner."
Thus the code of the Emperor Nicholas is, in fact, but a systematic collection of all the laws promulgated within the last 200 years, or thereabouts. It contains not one new idea, not one modification required by the actual situation of the empire, not one thought for the future. Now if we reflect that the study of 3396 books of laws, and the revision of 50,000 laws or ukases, have taken place within the short period of two years, and that the men who had to perform this task, were far from being jurisconsults, we shall perceive that such a work must be very imperfect, and that it must have been totally impossible to fulfil the intentions of the tzar, as expressed in the instructions above cited. The empire, indeed, possesses fifty-five bulky volumes of laws, but the inconveniences resulting from the multiplicity of contradictory ukases, and from others ill adapted to the necessities of the country, have been retained in them to a great extent; and the experience of thirteen years has shown the insufficiency of this collection, and its little influence on the course and conduct of lawsuits. Another defective point in this improvisated legislation, is its pretension to satisfy the requirements of the future by admitting, as a complement to the body of the statutes, all the ukases issued, or to be issued by the emperor. If to these 30,920 laws already existing, this palladium of justice already so formidable, there be added every year a supplementary volume equal in capacity to the average legislative contributions of the last 180 years, every year will then supply its battalion of 172 new laws; and I am at a loss to conceive where there will be found by-and-by a lawyer sufficiently patient to study this new levy of justice, when with all the good will imaginable the most indefatigable reader can hardly once in his life pass in review the body of the veterans.
In the space of five years since the emperor's manifesto (January 31, 1833), five new volumes have been already added to the collection.
Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that the emperor's performance is extremely meritorious. To him belongs the honour of having been the first to bestow a regular body of laws on his country. Before his time Russia had but a confused and fluctuating legislation, encumbered with an infinity of statutes, the study of which was the more difficult, as no printed collection of them existed. At present it possesses at least a complete digest, within reach of all, and which all may consult and appeal to. Surely a man of the emperor's perseverance and great capacity would not have shrunk from accomplishing a more perfect work, could he have indulged the hope of being seconded by abler and better instructed jurisconsults. But he was compelled of necessity to take the consequences of the want of any thing like a corps of magistrature, and finding he could not do any thing better, he resolved to make no change in the spirit of the laws promulgated during the preceding 200 years, and to follow exactly the course marked out in 1700 by Peter the Great. In this way the codification of the laws became a mere effort of compilation and arrangement, and setting aside the collation of the ukases, the clerks of the second section of the imperial chancery were quite competent to the task.
It will not be altogether uninteresting to place here a detailed table of the population in a governmental chief town. An examination of such documents may lead to very curious comparisons and reflections. The town we have chosen is Kichinev, the capital of Bessarabia, and the figures we give have been extracted directly from the books of the provincial governor's chancery.
| Men. | Women. | | Monks | 16 | Priests | 89 | 126 Servants | 114 | 59 Military officers[A] in active service | 139 | 53 Superior officers in the civil service, ditto | 339 | 236 Officers of the fourteenth class, ditto | 419 | 163 | | Military officers on leave. | | Generals | 1 | 1 Staff-officers of every grade | 42 | 31 | | Civil officers on leave. | | Generals | 2 | 2 Superior officers and others | 107 | 104
~~~~~~~~~~ | | Persons employed in the theatre | 15 | 9 First guild merchants | 6 | 10 Second ditto | 35 | 31 Third ditto | 736 | 623 Foreigners | 194 | 144 Burghers | 18,092 | 15,973 Government employes of all kinds | 2,121 | 237 Young people reared at the expense of the crown | 32 | Soldiers on furlough | 31 | 12 Workpeople | 415 | 511 Gipsy slaves | 54 | 63 German colonists | 37 | 24 Pupils of all kinds | 996 | 17 |--------|-------- Total | 24,032 | 18,429
[A: Neither the officers nor the soldiers of the garrison are included in this list.]
FOOTNOTES:
[12] The official correspondence of the ministers, and of the civil and military authorities, amounts annually to nearly 15,000,000 of letters, whilst that of all private Russians does not exceed 7,000,000.
Chapter XV
PUBLIC INSTRUCTION--CORPS OF CADETS--UNIVERSITIES AND ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS; ANECDOTE--PLAN OF EDUCATION--MOTIVES FOR ATTENDING THE UNIVERSITIES--STATISTICS--PROFESSORS; THEIR IGNORANCE--EXCLUSION OF FOREIGN PROFESSORS--ENGINEERING-- OBSTACLES TO INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT--CHARACTERISTICS OF THE SCLAVONIC RACE.
In contemplating the development and organisation of public instruction in Russia from the time of Peter the Great to these days, one cannot help thinking that the Russians attach infinitely more value to the appearance of progress, than to its real existence. One would say they care very little about scientific and intellectual results, provided their universities and schools be complete in all physical details, and provided they have numerous educational halls graced with the names of all the sciences professed in Europe.
Nevertheless, the sovereigns of Russia have all laboured more or less actively for the propagation of public instruction. Unfortunately they would never suffer themselves to admit that civilisation is a long and difficult work; and incapable of forgetting, even amidst the liberal ideas on which they based their projects, that they were before all things absolute princes, they fancied they could civilise their nation as they had disciplined their soldiers; and then, swayed by vanity and self-conceit, they graciously suffered themselves to be deceived by all the brilliant reports laid before them by the administrative departments.
It was in the reign of Feodor Alexievitz that the first academy was founded in Moscow. The Sclavonic, Greek, and Latin languages were taught there. A university was afterwards established in the same city, and in the reign of Catherine II. St. Petersburg possessed an academy of sciences and the fine arts, and a society of rural economy. But even at that period the spirit of ostentation, which forms the substratum of the Russian character, already revealed itself; and while forming those grand institutions, not a thought had been given to the opening of a single elementary school in either capital. Some writers indeed allege that Peter I. left behind him, at his death, fifty-one schools for the people, and fifty-six for the military; but I have always been disposed to think that those establishments existed but in name, and my researches have but confirmed that opinion.
The first elementary institution of any importance founded in the new capital, dates only from the beginning of the eighteenth century: it is the school of the cadet corps, exclusively reserved for the young nobility, and intended to form officers for the land and sea service, and for the engineers. In order to judge of the instruction afforded in it, one ought to be able at least to mention some of its pupils who have been distinguished for their talents, and who have acquired a certain degree of celebrity; but it is as difficult to name any such, as to discover men of learning and science among the members of the various academies mentioned above. Be this as it may, we cannot help entertaining a very mean opinion of the spirit and organisation of all these establishments founded by Peter the Great, and by the sovereigns who succeeded him during the latter part of the eighteenth century.
The first institution in favour of the people was created in St. Petersburg in 1764: it was an educational establishment for the daughters of burghers and gentlemen of scanty fortune. It was founded by Catherine II., who in taking measures by preference for the education of women, seems to have intended to prepare them for usurping in their domestic circle the same absolute sway which she was herself about to exercise over the whole empire.
Elementary schools were not actually opened to the public until 1783, and that only in some of the great towns of the empire. As all these ill-contrived early institutions possess little interest, I will pass on to the consideration of the present state of public instruction. The existing system dates from Alexander's reign. The course adopted in the beginning was on all points similar to that pursued by Peter the Great and Catherine II. The first thing thought of was the establishment of universities; those of Dorpat and Vilna were re-established; that of Moscow was reformed, and new ones were founded in Kasan and Kharkof. As for elementary schools, they were completely overlooked. The following anecdote will give an idea of the primitive state of the great colleges of the empire.
A German gentleman in the Russian service travelled in the Crimea, in 1803. On passing through Kharkof, curiosity induced him to visit the university, which had been opened in the town about a year before. While looking over the cabinet of natural philosophy, he perceived with amazement that the professor of that branch of science did not even know the names of the few instruments at his command. Unable to conceal his surprise, he asked his guide where he had been professor before he became attached to the university. "I never was a professor before," was the reply. "Where did you study?" "I learned to read and write in Moscow." "How did you obtain the rank of professor of natural philosophy?" "I was an officer of police; my age no longer allowed me to support the fatigues of my duty; so hearing that a place which would suit me better was vacant in the academy, I applied for it. Thirty years' service, good certificates, and the influence of a patron, enabled me to obtain it." "And what are the duties belonging to your place?" "I have to inspect the instruments, and keep them in order, and I am directed to show them to such persons of distinction as may please to visit the university."
This happened, it is true, in 1803, and I only mention the fact to show the spirit that prevailed in the establishment of these learned institutions. The university of Kharkof is now in a better condition, and I know many professors there of real merit, distinguished among whom are Doctor Vancetti, equally remarkable for his acquirements and his philanthropy, and Professor Kalenitchikov, who devotes himself with success to all branches of natural history.
At last, however, it was felt that universities were insufficient, and could not exist without elementary schools. Some years after the accession of Alexander, gymnasiums were therefore established in all the governmental chief towns; and the district towns had their primary institutions, in which were to be taught reading and writing, the elements of grammar and arithmetic, the history of Russia, sacred history, geography, geometry, and the rudiments of Latin.
The course of instruction in the gymnasia was more extensive, and embraced special mathematics, logic, rhetoric, and physics. Lastly, the pupil was advanced to the university, where he went through a complete course of study, comprising the sciences, the liberal arts, literature.
At first sight it would appear that this well conceived plan of studies ought to have had the most satisfactory results; but this was not altogether the case. The nobiliary system of the empire, and certain regulations of detail and discipline combined to destroy the reasonable hopes founded on such liberal institutions.
The Russian universities unquestionably number among their professors some distinguished men, equally devoted to science and to the duties of their calling; but the social ideas prevalent in the country render their efforts almost always unavailing, and they find themselves compelled to restrict their course of instruction within the narrow routine prescribed to them.
Now and always the universities and gymnasia are and have been for the most part attended only by pupils of the class of petty nobles, or of those of the priests and burghers. As for the sons of the aristocratic families, they are generally educated at home by private tutors, and as they are almost all intended for the army, they enter at once into the corps of cadets established in St. Petersburg.
According to a table published by the ministry of the interior, all the first class establishments for public instruction, that is to say the universities, the two medico-chirurgical academies, the pedagogic institute and the three lycea, contained in 1840 only 612 functionaries and professors, and 3809 pupils, the numbers being thus made up:
| Functionaries | | and Teachers. | Students. | | St. Petersburg | 59 | 433 Moscow | 82 | 932 Dorpat | 66 | 530 Kharkof | 79 | 468 Kasan | 74 | 237 St. Vladimir (Kiev) | 55 | 140 Richelieu Lyceum (Odessa) | 25 | 52 Demidof ditto | 20 | 33 Bezborodko ditto | 15 | 19 Medico-chirurgical academies of | | Moscow and Vilna | 94 | 797 Pedagogic institute of St. Petersburg | 43 | 68
According to the same report the Russian empire possessed at the close of the year 1840, 3230 establishments under the superior direction of the ministry of public instruction, and containing 103,450 pupils.
The young men who attend the university courses, have all but one single object in view, that of acquiring a grade of nobility; and the examinations are too slight to make industry and proficiency in their studies really requisite to the attainment of their purpose. Besides, they are most of them educated at the cost of the government, and as the latter does not like to lose its money, they must all enter the imperial service, whether well taught or not. In this manner are formed all the physicians, surgeons, and subordinate professors of gymnasia.
As for the civil departments the sole condition required for admission into them, is the knowledge of writing and arithmetic; accordingly the common class Russian thinks he has completed his education when he can read, write, and cypher; and he is indeed sufficiently erudite to get a footing in some chancery office, a common clerkship in which admits him to the first grade as a civil officer, and from thence he may arrive at the highest rank in the service.
Many young men on leaving the universities, are of course employed in the public offices; but then, whatever talents they may possess, and whatever fruit they may have gathered from their studies become utterly useless to them. From the moment they enter any office whatever, they perceive with astonishment that they know nothing of what it is essential they should know. They have stepped into a new world of which they do not even know the language. They hear nothing talked of around them but forms, rules, tricks for evading the laws and ordinances, artifices for giving a legal colouring to abuses and extortions, and all sorts of inventions for squeezing money out of those who have the misfortune to need the help of the employes.
They soon see that the greatest adepts in those frauds which are conveniently styled office usages, the least scrupulous, or, in plain terms, the greatest rogues, are considered clever fellows, and make their way rapidly; whilst those who still retain some sense of honesty and a lingering respect for the principles of morality, are laughed at as fools. What then does the novice, who has perhaps carried off the prize of eloquence at the university? Finding himself obliged to defer to the lowest pupil of an elementary school, who has already gained some knowledge of office practice, he tries to forget all he has learned, and applies himself to a new course of study. His conscientious scruples are soon silenced; prompted by emulation he gradually becomes as accomplished as his mates, and by dint of this second education the clever fellow at last quite effaces the honest man.
It is also from the universities that the young men are taken who are designed for the business of public instruction; and as we have already stated, they are for the most part educated at the expense of the state. When their studies are completed they are appointed professors in the gymnasia and other schools. The government has neglected no means of making their calling as advantageous as possible, both as to salary and honorary advancement. These encouragements would have the happiest effect anywhere else than in Russia, but there they have quite the contrary result. It follows from the existing system of nobility with its graduated scale, the privileges it confers, and the means of fortune its offers, that a man's whole status in life resolves itself into a question of official rank. Now, as no calling presents a greater chance of rapid advancement than that of the public instructor, in which capacity a young man rarely fails to obtain the rank of major (hereditary nobility) after five or six years' service, the consequence is that all the sons of the petty nobles, burghers, and priests, eagerly rush into this thriving profession. This, however, is not the real mischief; on the contrary, the great number of competitors might produce a very salutary rivalry; but unfortunately the little power and influence exercised by the professors, who after all, can only command boys, and still more than this, their want of opportunity to enrich themselves under cover of their office, strip the business of public instruction of all prestige, and cause it to be considered, notwithstanding its high pay, as much less advantageous than many other posts the fixed salary of which is almost nothing, but which enable the holders to levy almost unlimited contributions on those who come under their hands. What follows? As soon as the professors have obtained the rank of major, they quit the universities and enter the civil administrations, where they can fatten on law suits, chicanery, and exactions, and all the countless means by which the law enables them to make fraudulent fortunes. And here we may remark that this state of things is another consequence of the want of definite callings and professions in Russia. The career of official rank is the only one known to the Russian; for him there exists none other.
We must not wonder, therefore, if the instruction given in the elementary schools, and the gymnasia is incomplete and almost barren of good effect. The teachers are almost always mere boys without experience or sound knowledge. They content themselves with going through their routine of business according to the letter of the rules, and the military discipline imposed on them; but once escaped from their classes, they think of nothing but enjoying themselves, eating, drinking, and playing cards. I have visited many gymnasia in Russia, and I have always seen in them the same effects flowing from the same causes.
Besides the great universities and high schools, all the leading towns of the empire formerly contained numerous boarding schools, most of them kept by strangers; but these were suppressed by ukase in the year 1842. The means of instruction are at present confined to the imperial establishments, from which all foreigners not naturalised in Russia are excluded. These new regulations dictated by false vanity, will infallibly have a disastrous influence, and render the progress of education more and more difficult.
There still exist in Russia several establishments for the education of officers and civil and military engineers. The Institute of Ways and Communications was established in the reign of Alexander, under the superintendence of four pupils of the Ecole Polytechnique of France, MM. Potier, Fabre, Destreme, and Bazain, who entered the service of Russia, at the request to that effect preferred by the tzar to Napoleon. This school (which I have not visited) might have rendered great service to the empire, had the government been discreet enough to leave it its foreign professors, and not subject it to the absurd interference of the Russian military drill. Very few able men have issued from this institution, and the profound ignorance I have seen exhibited in all the great works executed at a distance from the capital, attests the decay of a school which at first promised so fairly. Again, it must be owned, that from the time when engineers enter on active service, they have no leisure to complete their studies; as soon as they receive an appointment, their whole time is taken up with reports, accounts, writings without end, and all the countless formalities devised by the quibbling and captious spirit of the Russians. I have known several engineers at the head of important works; they had not a moment to themselves, their whole day being spent in writing and signing heaps of paper. The same observations apply to the military, for whom secondary manoeuvres and minute costume observances form a never relaxing and stultifying slavery. Under such a system, all the germs of instruction implanted in the schools, soon disappear in service.
Besides, it must be admitted that the generality of Russians have a natural indifference to the sciences and the arts, which will long defeat the efforts of sovereigns desirous of effecting an intellectual regeneration. Though I have gone over a large portion of the empire, I have found very few persons, young or old, who were really studious and well-informed, and too often I have met with nothing but the most utter apathy, where I had a right to expect interest and enthusiasm. It matters not that the emperor showers tokens of favour and respect on his savans, the Russians themselves continue, notwithstanding, to treat them with great disdain. The reason is, that the arts and sciences do not lead to fortune in Russia, and as they fall exclusively to the lot either of foreigners, or of the petty nobles, they cannot enjoy high consideration in a form of society which respects only might and authority, and consequently recognises but two vocations worthy of ambition, viz., the military profession and the civil service.
But independently of the influence of a bad social organisation, the Russians seem to me to be at this day the least apt by nature of all the nations of Europe to receive solid instruction. The Sclavonic race may be divided into two great branches: the first of these, which contains the Poles among others, has felt the influence of the west, with which it has been in long and immediate contact, and so enabled to adopt its civilisation more or less closely; the second, on the contrary, has acknowledged the paramount influence of Asia, and the Russians who compose it, are still in our day under the action of the Mongol hordes, to which they were enslaved for more than three centuries. Again, Russia is absolutely and entirely a novice in civilisation; go over her whole history, and you will not find a single page which gives proof of a really progressive tendency. It is a very remarkable fact that her political and commercial relations with the Lower Empire were entirely barren of result upon her civilisation, which remained completely stationary, even in circumstances most favourable to its development: it is therefore by no means surprising, that despite all the efforts of her sovereigns, she has been unable to place herself on the level of the other nations of Europe within the space of a hundred years.
The results of our civilisation, more than twenty centuries old, are not to be inculcated so rapidly: there needs we think, a long series of progressive initiations, so that the moral constitution reacting on the physical, may render the perceptions and the organs of the latter more delicate, and more suited to intellectual development: and this period of transition must necessarily be very long for a nation to which the past has bequeathed only reminiscences of slavery and destruction. Look, on the other hand, at Greece, Moldavia, and Wallachia, countries which have all had glorious periods in history; they have made great strides within ten years, and have in that short space of time established their claim to rank as members of the European family of nations. To their past history belongs in part the honour of their present advancement. That thirst for instruction, that incredible aptitude to seize and understand every thing, which is characteristic above all of the Greeks, are evidently but old faculties long sunk in torpor under the pressure of slavery, and which waited but for a little freedom to break forth with new energy.
Chapter XVI
ENTRY INTO THE COUNTRY OF THE DON COSSACKS--FEMALE PILGRIMS OF KIEV; RELIGIOUS FERVOUR OF THE COSSACKS--NOVO TCHERKASK, CAPITAL OF THE DON--STREET-LAMPS GUARDED BY SENTINELS--THE STREETS ON SUNDAY--COSSACK HOSPITALITY AND GOOD NATURE--THEIR VENERATION FOR NAPOLEON'S MEMORY.
Beyond Nakhitchevane, several valleys abutting on the basin of the Don, isolated hamlets, and a few stanitzas, diversify the country, and make one forget the sterility of the steppes, that spread out their gray and scarcely undulating surface to the westward. The banks of the Don which are seldom out of sight, are enlivened by clumps of trees, fishermen's huts, and herds of horses that seek there a fresher pasture than the desert affords. But except these animals, we saw not a single living creature; the heat was so intense, and the country is still so little inhabited, that most of the fields appeared to us in a state of wild nature. Nothing around us indicated the presence of man. In the country of the Don Cossacks, as elsewhere throughout Russia, the post road is barely marked out by two ditches so called, which you often drive over without perceiving them, and by distance posts two or three yards high. This is all the outlay the government chooses to incur for the imperial post roads leading to the principal towns of the empire.
Before arriving in Novo Tcherkask, the capital of the Cossacks, we encountered another wandering party at least as curious as our gipsies.
Imagine our surprise when having passed through a wide ravine, which for a long while shut in the road, we saw defiling over the steppes a countless string of small cars, escorted by I know not how many hundreds of women. We advanced, puzzled and curious to the last degree; and the more we gazed the more the numbers of these women seemed to multiply. They were everywhere, in the cars, on the road, and over the steppes; it was like a swarm of locusts suddenly dropped from the sky. Most of them walked barefoot, holding their shoes in one hand, and with the other picking up fragments of wood and straw, for what purpose we could not conceive. Their carts were just like barrels with two openings, and were driven by themselves, for there was not the shadow of a beard among them. They were all returning, as they told us, from the catacombs of Kiev, to which they had been making a pilgrimage. Among them I remarked some old women who had scarcely a breath of life remaining. They seemed dreadfully fatigued, but at the same time very well pleased with their pious expedition.
Further on we met another procession of the same kind, which had already arranged its encampment for the night. Two fires, fed with those little chips of wood that had so much perplexed us, served to prepare the evening meal. All the pilgrims were busy, and formed the most varied groups. Some were fetching water in earthen pitchers, which they carried on their heads; others were kneeling devoutly, making the sign of the cross; and the genuflexions so frequent among the Russians and Cossacks; the oldest were feeding the fire and telling stories. It was an indescribable scene of bustle and noise, displaying a variety of the most picturesque attitudes and physiognomies.
All the women were of Cossack race. There is much more of pious fervour in this nation than in the Muscovites. A slight difference of text between the Bibles of the two people has occasioned a very great one in their religious sentiments. The Cossacks call themselves the true believers, and abstain on religious grounds from the pipe, and from many other things which the Muscovites allow themselves without scruple. The natural integrity of their character is rarely sullied by hypocrisy. They love and believe with equal ardour and sincerity.
At the extremity of a plateau, on the verge of a wide and deep valley, the town of Novo Tcherkask suddenly appeared to us, rising in an amphitheatre, and embracing in its huge extent several hills, the broad slopes of which descend to the bottom of the valley. All the towns we had previously seen, and which had shocked us by the extravagant breadth of their streets and their dearth of houses, were nothing in comparison with what now met our eyes. Seen from the point where we then stood, the whole town was like an enormous chess board, with the lines formed by avenues broader than the Place du Carousel in Paris. These lines, bordered at intervals by a few shabby dwellings, and separated from each other by open spaces in which whole regiments might manoeuvre quite at their ease, some churches, and a triumphal arch erected in 1815 in honour of Alexander, are the only salient points of this desert which they call a capital, and the superficial dimensions of which are, without exaggeration, as great as those of Paris.
Novo Tcherkask, now the seat of all the public offices of the Don country, was founded in 1806 by Count Platof, who became so celebrated through the unfortunate French campaign of Moscow. Its very ill-chosen position forbids all chance of future prosperity. It is situated nearly eight miles from the Don, on a hill surrounded on all sides by the Axai and the Touzlof, small confluents of the river from which it is so fatally remote. Platof is said to have selected this site for the purpose of building a fortress; but his intentions have not been realised. Another most serious inconvenience for the town is the absolute want of good water. Wealthy persons use melted ice to make tea.
In the great square there are two very large bazaars with wooden roofs, in which are found all sorts of goods, and especially an abundant collection of military equipments for the use of the Cossacks. There is also a great arsenal, but quite destitute of arms. As for the other edifices, they are not worth mentioning, notwithstanding all the fine descriptions given of them by geographers.
But Novo Tcherkask has one precious thing to boast of--a thing unique in Russia--and that is an excellent hotel kept by a Frenchman, in which the traveller finds all the comforts he can desire. The nobility who have strongly encouraged this establishment, have formed in it a casino, in which many balls are given in the winter.
The Emperor Nicholas visited the Don Cossacks in 1837, and to this auspicious event the capital owed the good fortune of being supplied with lamps in the streets. But the lights went out when his majesty departed; and it is said, that in order to save the lamps from being stolen, the authorities had been obliged to make an armed Cossack stand sentry over each of them.
The population of Novo Tcherkask, formed by the union of four stanitzas, amounts to about 10,000. Staro Tcherkask, the old capital, now abandoned, has nothing to attract the traveller's attention, though Dr. Clarke has bestowed on it the pompous title of the Russian Venice.
Our arrival in the Cossack capital fell on a Sunday. As the windows of our hotel looked full on the only promenade in the town, the greater part of the population passed in review before us. Every thing here bespeaks the nomade and warlike temper of the Cossacks. There is no copying of European fashion, no Frank costumes, no mixed population; every thing is Cossack, except a few Kalmuck figures, telling us of the vicinity of the Volga.
The Cossacks we had seen at Taganrok, had given us but a poor opinion of the beauty of the women of the country; we were, therefore, agreeably surprised at the sight of all the pretty girls that passed continually before our windows. Even their costume, which we had thought ugly, now seemed not wanting in originality, and even in a certain piquancy. The young girls let their braided hair fall on their shoulders, and usually tie the braids with bright ribbons, that hang down to their heels. Some of them confine their tresses in a long bag made of a silk handkerchief, a style of head-dress by no means unbecoming.
It was really a very pretty sight to see the crowd of elegant officers and young women in gala attire that filled the footways, exchanging looks, smiles, and even soft discourse, as if they were in a ball-room. The men are tall and handsome, and look remarkably well in uniform. Bravery and noble pride are legible in their features and their eyes, as if they were still those fiery children of the steppes, who, before the days of Catherine II. acknowledged no other power than that of their ataman, freely chosen by themselves. Arms are at this day their sole occupation, just as they were a hundred years ago, and their organisation is still altogether military, as we shall see by and by.
What erroneous notions are entertained in France, of these good-natured, inoffensive, and hospitable Cossacks! The events of 1814 and 1815, have left a deep repugnance towards them in all French minds, and indeed it could hardly be expected it should be otherwise. But speaking of them as we found them in their own land, they do not deserve the aversion with which our countrymen regard them. There is no part of Russia where the traveller is more safe than in their country, nor does he anywhere meet with a more kindly welcome. The name of Frenchman, especially, is an excellent recommendation there. The portrait of Napoleon is found in every house, and sometimes it is placed above that of the great St. Nicholas himself. All the old veterans who have survived the great wars of the empire, profess the greatest veneration for the French emperor, and these sentiments are fully shared by the present generation.