Vologda: its inhabitants—A Polish lady—Treatment of
the Poles—Russian ladies: their politeness—Peter the
Great’s civilization—Slavery: its effects on the
character—Conversation—Card-playing—A princess—Poverty—Filthy
households—Equal division of property—Cause of poverty—An old
gambler.
Vologda is a pretty town, but we did not prolong our stay in it beyond
a few weeks, being desirous of returning to Archangel to make our
preparations for proceeding to St. Petersburg. There is nothing very
remarkable in the place. We made several acquaintances among the Germans,
Russians, and Poles, of whom the inhabitants chiefly consist; among the
latter was a most amiable Polish lady, who, together with her husband,
had been banished thither for some political offence. I shall never
forget the pride and exultation with which she presented her son, a
lad of about ten years old, saying “that he could not speak a word of
Russian,” and that she took every care to prevent him from learning
the hated accents of the Muscovite. It was then that I learnt that it
was a general custom of the government to banish into the interior of
Russia those Poles who wore suspected or convicted of minor political
faults, the more grave crimes being punished by an exile into Siberia.
I have since met with those Polish offenders in many places, and I must
say that, as far as it has been in my power to ascertain the fact, they
have been well and kindly received even at the Governor’s table, nor
would any one imagine that their stay in the place was compulsory. It
is now ten years since I first went to Russia, and I have resided there
until the last three months, not living like a stranger in the land,
but in the closest intimacy with Russian families, and I willingly bear
witness to their general hospitality and kindness of heart, not towards
the rich alone, for a well-educated person, let his circumstances be
what they may, is always well received. The ladies are most amiable
and polite; they are, however, often accused of want of sincerity,
but, in my opinion, unjustly so. We are too apt to judge foreigners by
ourselves, and think that they ought not to utter sentiments that they
do not feel; but the fact is, what they mean only as expressions of
every-day civility, we translate literally into those of regard, and
hence our false estimate of their character. A Russian lady will say, on
your being introduced, “that she is delighted at having the advantage
of your acquaintance,” “that she has much esteem for you,” and so on;
all of which is only very kindly meant to put you at your ease, and
prevent you from being gênée in her house; but, in regard to real worth
and goodness of heart, she is by no means deficient. In a thousand
instances I have remarked acts of benevolence and charity that would
do honour to the name of Russian, and serve to counterbalance grave
faults and errors with which unfortunately they are mingled. Such must
be expected in a nation on whom civilization was thrust at the sword’s
point, and perhaps Peter the Great did his country more harm than good
by obliging them to adopt the similitude of a state that ought gradually
to be acquired. No civilization can be truly solid unless it be reached
step by step through the weary road of experience. Gilt frames have all
the _appearance_ of gold, but scrape off the exterior, and nothing but
worthless wood is underneath. One does not build a house without first
laying the foundation, nor does a child run before it learns to walk! The
_people_ of Russia would very likely have been more advanced in the real
essentials of a civilized state if Peter had never obliged them to wear
short-skirted coats, and their wives to appear in public unveiled. In
the summer gardens in St. Petersburg a walk is still shown, up and down
which the half-savage Czar obliged the Russian ladies to promenade with
their faces uncovered, whilst a regiment of soldiers was drawn up on each
side. To do them justice, they soon learned to profit by the lesson, and
have gone infinitely further than their instructor _could_ have intended
them to do. The immoral conduct and the inconceivable want of delicacy
of many of the ladies of rank cannot fail to have a very unfavourable
influence on others below them, especially as the court is regarded as
the criterion of what is right. Were I to relate the almost incredible
actions of many of the titled dames, I fear I should be accused of
falsehood, but I am happy to say there are some noble exceptions;
indeed, I have had the pleasure of knowing many who are an ornament and
a pattern to their sex. The state of slavery, which is so disgraceful to
an European nation, must also greatly influence the domestic character of
the ladies, for, being surrounded by so many menials always at hand, it
must induce habits of indolence; and “idleness,” as is well known, “is
the parent of many vices.” Many of the ladies never do any work, and
are almost ignorant of the use of the needle. “Why should I sew, when I
have others to do it for me?” is a common question. The absence of the
necessity of being employed, and the want of mental resources, drive them
to pass their existence in reclining on the sofa and reading some silly
French romance when alone, or to the card-table when in company. There is
really no conversation in Russia, unless the ridiculous compliments and
inanities of a drawing-room be dignified as such; the ladies generally
discuss the price and quality of their acquaintances’ dress. “Where did
you get that charming mantle?” “From France.” “O, indeed; ah! now I see
it could only be made in Paris.” “How much did you give an arsheen for
your dress?” &c. Such are the efforts of the Russian ladies’ ideas.
The remainder of the evening is made up of flirting, eating bonbons,
and _jouant aux petits jeux_ for the unmarried. As for the married,
they sit down to cards and play the coquette with some friend near, or
make remarks on the personal appearance of their acquaintances:—“I saw
Madame Vasiliwitch yesterday—how old she is looking!” “It is your turn
to deal, madame.” “How much the princess paints! she puts on so much
white! I think an old lady _ought_ to rouge, but really she uses too
much.” “You have made a miss-deal.” “Madame Beck is separated from her
husband; she is going to sue for a divorce.” “Well, it is lucky she and
her husband are Germans, for if he had been a Russian she would never get
it.” “How old is she?” “O, she must be forty at the least.” Such is a
sample of the conversation at a soirée; nor are the subjects on which the
gentlemen converse one whit more intellectual. “Que voulez-vous?” said
a nobleman one evening—“que voulez-vous? on ne peut parler la politique,
et il n’y a rien à faire que de jouer aux cartes;” and it is certain
that the dread of being everywhere within hearing of some government
spy must be a disagreeable check on conversation. It is astonishing
how much the absence of political discussion influences the amount of
information current in society, or how much freedom of speech contributes
to intelligence; any one who has lived in Russia can bear witness to
this fact. When we were near the frontiers of Prussia, some French and
German gentlemen got into the railway carriage, and began conversing
on the present state of Europe. One of the latter remained quiet for a
few minutes, and then said, “My friends, listen: we shall in less than
an hour have quitted the territories of Russia; until we do so, let us
be silent, for how do we know who may be within hearing?” The others
acquiesced in the justice of the proposition, and not until we reached
Myslowitz did they give any further expression to their thoughts.
But to return to the Russian ladies. I remember I once went to call on
the Princess O——ff: she was of very good family, but extremely poor,
yet of course she could not do without a carriage, horses, a footman,
and maid-servants, but the state of dirt and misery in which she lived
would disgust almost a beggar amongst us. A very filthy lacquey, in
livery the facings of which were scarcely visible, so discoloured were
they with long use, ushered me through a room quite as dirty as himself
to a second apartment, in which was seated the princess. She was at
breakfast, it being twelve o’clock. The abominably filthy room, her
equally disgusting attire, and the super-dirtiness of a miserable little
maid who brought her some rusks, made me almost afraid to take a seat
on the chair placed for me. She very politely requested me to partake
of her refreshment, which I, as politely, declined: but imagine, gentle
reader, how infinitely I was disgusted when she took up a piece of paper
from the table, spat in it, and then replaced it near the bread she was
eating! She begged me to come and see her again, as she assured me she
was very fond of the English: I need not say that I did not repeat my
visit. Candidly speaking, this was the only instance I met of such an
extremely filthy ménage, therefore I hope it formed a rare exception. I
must, however, say that in St. Petersburg I once called at a house where
the footman who opened the door presented so dirty an appearance that
I would not enter it, and therefore cannot say whether it was his own
fault or that of his master. In order to give an example of the state
of moral feeling in the country, I will narrate a little incident that
occurred one evening at the house of a lady of very high rank: a Madame
——, the wife of a governor of a large province, was present; and Prince
T——koi, who had been ordered to join his regiment, had come to take leave
of his friends: to my astonishment, Madame —— burst into a violent flood
of tears, and “refused to be comforted,” when she bid him adieu. On my
inquiring why she was so affected, the prince being no relation of hers,
I was informed that, “poor thing! she was so deeply in love with him that
she was unable _maîtriser son émotion_.” I ventured to remark that it
was rather disagreeable to her husband that she should make so public
a display of her preference for another. For my pains I was told that I
had no heart, and that, like all the English, I was quite destitute of
feeling. I _do_ believe that not a lady was there present who did not
regard her as quite a martyr of sensibility.
Many of the noblesse are extremely poor; indeed, it is almost a wonder
how they can exist. A great cause of their indigence is the equal
division of the family estates among all the children. M. M——ff, a
gentleman belonging to one of the most ancient houses in Russia—indeed,
he used to boast of his descent from Rurick, the founder of the
empire—often bitterly lamented the subdivision of the property. “My
father,” said he, “had eight children; he was possessed of a fortune
of four thousand slaves, a very handsome estate; when he died we each
had five hundred as our share; I have four sons and a daughter, among
whom my patrimony must be again subdivided; if they marry, they must be
very poor, and, if they have families, still more so; by this means my
descendants will eventually become mere beggars.” Another common cause
of their poverty is their propensity for gambling, which ruins many. One
day an old gentleman called on Madame P——ska, a lady with whom I was well
acquainted in St. Petersburg; he came to borrow a few rubles, which she
kindly gave him. On his leaving the room I begged to know what had thus
reduced him. “Ah! poor man,” said my friend, “think how unfortunate he
has been; he once possessed fourteen thousand slaves, and he lost them
all at cards.” I said I was sorry that a man of his years should have
rendered himself miserable by such a vice. “How old do you think him?”
asked my friend. “Oh, sixty at the least.” “Sixty!” answered she, “he is
past eighty, only he wears a wig, paints his eyebrows, and rouges to make
himself look younger.” Wretched old man! he died soon after I saw him, on
his return from a card-party; he was found lifeless on his bed, and did
not leave a single ruble to defray the expenses of his interment.