Custom is the same at Irkutsk as in all fashionable society of the
empire. Visits of ceremony are made in full dress-uniform for an
officer and evening costume for a civilian. Ceremonious calls are
pretty short, depending of course upon the position and intimacy of
the parties. The Russians are very punctilious in making and receiving
visits. So many circumstances are to be considered that I was always
in dread of making a mistake of etiquette somewhere.
Nearly all my acquaintances in Irkutsk spoke French or English, though
comparatively few conversed with me in the latter tongue. The facility
with which the Russians acquire language has been often remarked.
Almost all Russians who possess any education, are familiar with at
least one language beside their own. Very often I found a person
conversant with two foreign languages, and it was no unusual thing to
find one speaking three. I knew a young officer at Irkutsk who spoke
German, French, English, and Swedish, and had a very fair smattering
of Chinese, Manjour, and Japanese. A young lady there conversed well
and charmingly in English, French, and German and knew something of
Italian. It was more the exception than the rule that I met an officer
with whom I could not converse in French. French is the society
language of the Russian capital, and one of the first requisites in
education.
Children are instructed almost from infancy. Governesses are generally
French or English, and conversation with their charges is rarely
conducted in Russian. Tutors are generally Germans familiar with
French. There is no other country in the world where those who can
afford it are so attentive to the education of their children. This
attention added to the peculiar temperament of the Russians makes them
the best linguists in the world.
An English gentleman and lady, the latter speaking Russian fluently,
lived in Siberia several years. During their sojourn a son was born to
them. It was a long time before he began talking, so long in fact,
that his parents feared he would be dumb. When he commenced he was
very soon fluent in both English and Russian. His long hesitation was
doubtless caused by the confusion of two languages.
[Illustration: QUEEN OF GREECE.]
The present emperor is an accomplished linguist, but no exception in
this particular to the Imperial family in general. The Queen of
Greece, a niece of the Emperor of Russia, is said to be very prompt to
learn a new language whenever it comes in her way, and when she was
selected for that royal position she conquered the greek language in a
very short time. French is the leading foreign language among the
Russians, and the second rank is held by the German. Of late years
English has become very popular, and is being rapidly acquired. The
present _entente cordiale_ between Russia and the United States is
exerting an influence for the increased study of our language. Why
should we not return the compliment and bestow a little attention upon
the Slavonic tongue?
Most persons in society at Irkutsk were from European Russia or had
spent some time in Moscow at St. Petersburg. Of the native born
Siberians there were few who had not made a journey beyond the Ural
Mountains. Among the officials, St. Petersburg was usually the
authority in the matter of life and habit, while the civilians turned
their eyes toward Moscow. Society in Irkutsk was not less polished
than in the capitals, and it possessed the advantage of being somewhat
more open and less rigid than under the shadow of the Imperial palace.
Etiquette is etiquette in any part of the empire, and its forms must
everywhere be observed. But after the social forms were complied, with
there was less stiffness than in European Russia.
Some travelers declare that they found Siberian society more polished
than that of Old Russia. On this point I cannot speak personally, as
my stay in the western part of the empire was too brief to afford much
insight into its life. There may be some truth in the statement.
Siberia has received a great many individuals of high culture in the
persons of its political exiles. Men of liberal education, active
intellects, and refined manners have been in large proportion among
the banished Poles, and the exiles of 1825 included many of Russia’s
ablest minds. The influence of these exiles upon the intelligence,
habits, and manners of the Siberians, has left an indelible mark. As a
new civilization is more plastic than an old one, so the society of
Northern Asia may have become more polished than that of Ancient
Russia.
I could learn of only six of my countrymen who had been at Irkutsk
before me. Of these all but two passed through the city with little
delay, and were seen by very few persons. I happened to reach Siberia
when our iron-clad fleet was at Cronstadt, and its officers were being
feasted at St. Petersburg and elsewhere. The Siberians regretted that
Mr. Fox and his companions could not visit them, and experience their
hospitality. So they determined to expend their enthusiasm on the
first American that appeared, and rather unexpectedly I became the
recipient of the will of the Siberians toward the United States. Two
days after my arrival I was visited by Mr. Hamenof, one of the
wealthiest merchants of Irkutsk. As he spoke only Russian, he was
accompanied by my late fellow-traveler who came to interpret between
us, and open the conversation with—
“Mr. Hamenof presents his compliments, and wishes you to dine with him
day after to-morrow.”
I accepted the invitation, and the merchant departed. Maack informed
me that the dinner would be a ceremonious one, attended by the
Governor General and leading officials.
About forty persons were present, and seated according to rank. The
tables were set on three sides of a square apartment, the post of
honor being in the central position facing the middle of the room. The
dinner was served in the French manner, and but for the language and
uniforms around me, and a few articles in the bill of fare, I could
have thought myself in a private parlor of the _Trois Freres_ or the
_Cafe Anglais_.
Madame Ditmar, the wife of the governor of the Trans-Baikal, was the
only lady present. When the champagne appeared, Mr. Hamenof proposed
“The United States of America,” and prefaced his toast with a little
speech to his Russian guests. I proposed the health of the Emperor,
and then the toasts became irregular and applied to the Governor
General, the master of the house, the ladies of Siberia, the
Russo-American Telegraph, and various other persons, objects, and
enterprises.
From the dinner table we adjourned to the parlors where tea and coffee
were brought, and most of the guests were very soon busy at the card
tables. On reaching my room late at night, I found a Russian document
awaiting me, and with effort and a dictionary, I translated it into an
invitation to an official dinner with General Korsackoff. Five minutes
before the appointed hour I accompanied a friend to the Governor
General’s house. As we entered, servants in military garb took our
shoobas, and we were ushered into a large parlor. General Korsackoff
and many of the invited guests were assembled in the parlor, and
within two minutes the entire party had gathered. As the clock struck
five the doors were thrown open, and the general led the way to the
dining hall.
I found at Irkutsk a great precision respecting appointments. When
dinners were to come off at a fixed hour all the guests assembled from
three to ten minutes before the time specified. I never knew any one
to come late, and all were equally careful not to come early. No one
could be more punctual than General Korsackoff, and his example was no
doubt carefully watched and followed. It is a rule throughout official
circles in Russia, if I am correctly informed, that tardiness implies
disrespect. Americans might take a few lessons of the Russians on the
subject of punctuality.
[Illustration: EMPEROR OF RUSSIA.]
The table was liberally decorated with flowers and plants, and the
whole surroundings were calculated to make one forget that he was in
cold and desolate Siberia. A band of music was stationed in the
adjoining parlor, and furnished us with Russian and American airs. At
the first toast General Korsackoff made a speech in Russian,
recounting the amity existing between the two nations and the visit of
our special embassy to congratulate the Emperor on his escape from
assassination. He thought the Siberians felt no less grateful at this
mark of sympathy than did the people of European Russia, and closed by
proposing, “The President, Congress, and People of the United States.”
The toast was received with enthusiasm, the band playing Yankee
Doodle as an accompaniment to the cheering.
The speech was translated to me by Captain Linden, the private
Secretary of the Governor General, who spoke French and English
fluently. Etiquette required me to follow with a toast to the emperor
in my little speech. I spoke slowly to facilitate the hearing of those
who understood English. The Captain then translated it into Russian.
General Korsackoff spoke about four minutes, and I think my response
was of the same length. Both speeches were considered quite elaborate
by the Siberians, and one officer declared it was the longest
dinner-table address the general ever made. Two days later at another
dinner I asked a friend to translate my remarks when I came to speak.
He asked how long I proposed talking.
“About three minutes,” was my reply.
“Oh,” said he, “you had better make it one or two minutes. You made a
long speech at the Governor General’s, and when you dine with a person
of less importance he will not expect you to speak as much.”
I had not taken this view of the matter, as the American custom tends
to brevity on the ascending rather than on the descending scale.
Ten years earlier Major Collins dined with General Mouravieff in the
same hall where I was entertained. After dinner I heard a story at the
expense of my enterprising predecessor. It is well known that the
Major is quite a speech maker at home, and when he is awakened on a
favorite subject he has no lack either of ideas or words.
On the occasion just mentioned, General Mouravieff gave the toast,
“Russia and America,” Major Collins rose to reply and after speaking
six or eight minutes came to a pause. Captain Martinoff, who
understood English, was seated near the Major. As the latter stopped,
General Mouravieff turned to the Captain and asked:
“Will you be kind enough to translate what has been said?”
“_Blagodariete_,” (he thanks you) said the captain. The Major
proceeded six or eight minutes more and paused again.
“Translate,” was the renewed command of the Governor General.
“He thanks you very much.”
Again another period of speech and the address was finished.
“Translate if you please,” the general suggested once more to his aid.
“He thanks you very much indeed.”
The Major was puzzled, and turning to Captain Martinoff remarked that
the Russian language must be very comprehensive when a speech of
twenty minutes could be translated in three or four words.
On days when I was disengaged I dined at the _Amoorski Gastinitza_ or
Amoor Hotel. The hotel comprised two buildings, one containing the
rooms of lodgers, and the other devoted to restaurant, dining and
billiard rooms. In the dining department there were several rooms, a
large one for a restaurant and table d’hote, and the rest for private
parties. Considering the general character of Russian hotels the one
at Irkutsk was quite creditable. In its management, cookery, and
service it would compare favorably with the establishments on
Courtlandt Street or Park Row.
In the billiard room there were two tables on which I sometimes
complied with a request to ‘show the American game.’ The tables had
six pockets each, and as the cues had no leather tips, there was an
unpleasant clicking whenever they wore used. The Russian game of
billiards is played with five balls, and the science consists in
pocketing the balls. The carom does not count.
The first time I dined at the hotel the two candles burned dimly, and
we called for a third. When it was brought the servant drew a small
table near us and placed the extra candle upon it. I asked the reason
for his doing so, and it was thus explained.
There is a superstition in Russia that if three lighted candles are
placed upon a table some one in the room will die within a year.
Everybody endeavors to avoid such a calamity. If you have two candles
and order another, the servant will place the third on a side table or
he will bring a fourth and make your number an even one.
There was formerly a theatre at Irkutsk, but it was burned a few years
ago, and has not been rebuilt. During my stay there was a musical
concert in the large hall of the officers’ club, and a theatrical
display was prepared but not concluded before my departure. At the
concert a young officer, Captain Lowbry, executed on the piano several
pieces of his own composition, and was heartily applauded by the
listeners. Once a week there was a social party at the club house
where dancing, cards, billiards, and small talk continued till after
midnight.
Nearly every one in society kept ‘open house’ daily. In most of the
families where I was acquainted tea was taken at 8 P.M., and any
friend could call at that hour without ceremony. The samovar was
placed on the table, and one of the ladies presided over the tea.
Those who wished it could sit at table, but there was no formal
spreading of the cloth. Tea was handed about the room and each one
took it at his liking. I have seen in these social circles a most
pleasing irregularity in tea drinking. Some were seated on sofas and
chairs, holding cups and saucers in their hands or resting them upon
tables; other stood in groups of two, three, or more; others were at
cards, and sipped their tea at intervals of the games; and a few were
gathered around the hostess at the samovar. The time passed in
whatever amusements were attainable. There were cards for some and
conversation for others, with piano music, little dances and general
sports of considerable variety. Those evenings at Irkutsk were
delightful, and I shall always remember them with pleasure.
What with visits, dinners, balls, suppers, social evenings, and sleigh
rides, I had little time to myself, and though I economized every
minute I did not succeed in finishing my letters and journal until
the very day before my departure. The evening parties lasted pretty
late. They generally closed with a supper toward the wee small hours,
and the good nights were not spoken until about two in the morning.
There is a peculiarity about a Russian party,—whether a quiet social
assemblage or a stately ball,—that the whole house is thrown open. In
America guests are confined to the parlors and the dancing and supper
apartments, from the time they leave the cloaking rooms till they
prepare for departure. In Russia they can wander pretty nearly where
they please, literally “up stairs, down stairs, or in my lady’s
chamber.” Of course all the rooms are prepared for visitors, but I
used at first to feel a shrinking sensation when I sauntered into the
private study and work room of my official host, or found myself among
the scent bottles and other toilet treasures of a lady acquaintance.
This literal keeping of ‘open house’ materially assists to break the
stiffness of an assemblage though it can hardly be entirely convenient
to the hosts.
Immediately after my entertainment with General Korsackoff, the mayor
of Irkutsk invited me to an official dinner at his house. This was
followed a few days later by a similar courtesy on the part of Mr.
Trepaznikoff, the son of a wealthy merchant who died a few years ago.
Private dinners followed in rapid succession until I was qualified to
speak with practical knowledge of the Irkutsk cuisine. No stranger in
a strange land was ever more kindly taken in, and no hospitality was
ever bestowed with less ostentation. I can join in the general
testimony of travelers that the Russians excel in the ability to
entertain visitors.
Mr. Kartesheftsoff, the Mayor, or _Golovah_ as he is called, resided
in a large house that formerly belonged to Prince Trubetskoi, one of
the exiles of 1825. My host was an extensive owner of gold mines, and
had been very successful in working them. He was greatly interested in
the means employed in California for separating gold from earth, and
especially in the ‘hydraulic’ process. On my first visit Madame
Kartesheftsoff spoke very little French. She must have submitted her
studies to a thorough revision as I found her a week later able to
conduct a conversation with ease. There were other instances of a
vigorous overhauling of disused French and English that furnished
additional proof of the Russian adaptability to foreign tongues.
To reach the golovah’s house we crossed, the Ouska-kofka, a small
river running through the northern part of Irkutsk; it had been
recently frozen, and several rosy-cheeked boys were skating on the
ice. The view from the bridge is quite picturesque, and the little
valley forms a favorite resort in certain seasons of the year. The
water of the Ouska-kofka is said to be denser than that of the Angara,
and on that account is preferred for culinary purposes.
[Illustration: TAIL PIECE—TWIN BOTTLES]