Description of churches—A devotee—Saints’ portraits—The
lower class of worshippers—Infant communion—Administering
the sacrament—A funeral—Customs of oriental origin—Tartar
burying-ground—A wake—Prayers for the dead—Horror of death—A
baptism—Authenticity of Christ’s portraits—A procession
in Moscow—Miraculous portrait of the Virgin—Religious
processions—Aquatic procession—Pilgrims—A pilgrimage—The
miraculous image at Jaroslaf—Angelic artists—Monks and money—A
holy tradition—Religious ceremonies—Confession in the Greek
Church—Representation of Christ’s interment—High mass in the
Kazane church.
The Russian churches are much decorated internally; in some, indeed most
of them, the walls are entirely covered with the pictures of saints,
the Virgin and Child, and, the Protestant will be shocked to see, of
the Creator also, who is generally represented under the figure of an
aged man with long white hair and beard, having the triangle or symbol
of the Godhead either in his hand or above his head. He is sometimes
represented as sitting on the clouds, with his foot placed on the earth
or globe; indeed so depicted it appeared to be merely a copy of the
heathen Jupiter or the northern Thor. Sometimes our Saviour and the
Virgin Mary were painted one on either side. The circle of glory round
the brows of the saints is ordinarily of silver gilt, but very often of
pure gold, set with pearls and precious stones. Many of the dresses are
of metal (either gold or silver gilt), and they so entirely cover the
space that only the face and hands of the figures are visible out of
the mass of rich settings of innumerable pearls, rubies, and diamonds.
An anecdote was told us by the head of a judicial department, of a very
devout lady, who was so exceedingly assiduous in repeating prayers, and
in earnestly embracing the portrait of “Our Lady” in the Kazane church,
that the priests began to suspect that so much unction was not purely
spiritual; they therefore set the police to watch, and “sure enough” they
discovered that the devotee had actually succeeded in dislodging some
of the valuable diamonds with her teeth: she was punished by being sent
on a pilgrimage to Siberia. Many of the saints’ portraits are extremely
ancient, and costly as regards the materials of which they are composed,
but they are executed in the most barbarous taste, and possess no
artistic excellence whatever. Some of them are so blackened by time that
at first sight the face and hands appear merely dark spaces left in the
brilliant surface; but the older and uglier these Virgins are, the more
they are adored and the more miracles they are said to perform.
There is an immense deal of gilding about the churches, which, with
rows of saints, all in their gold and silver dresses, lighted up by
the innumerable little lamps suspended before them, the small tapers
stuck in stands here and there, and candles of gigantic circumference
in silver sconces, near the shrines and altars, makes a very glittering
appearance, and harmonizes well with the splendid robes of the priests
when they perform mass. More enlightened nations are apt to look with
contempt on all these gewgaws, but undoubtedly they have their use in
impressing a people so uncivilized and illiterate as are the lower
classes in Russia, with respect for a religion which they are not yet
in a condition to understand by precept alone. It is like teaching
children to read by means of a pictured alphabet. Many and many a time
have we seen deeply-felt devotion among the poorer portion of a Russian
congregation; certainly they _do_ frequent their places of worship much
more than their brethren in more polished countries, and believe what
their pastors teach them. In the Greek Church, even the babies in arms
communicate. I was present at a mass in which a child of about three
months old took the sacrament. The reason given is, that they follow the
command of Christ, that the children should be brought to him, from the
text, “Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not.” The
infant above-mentioned was that of a gipsy-woman, who, with a party of
her tribe, had come to worship at the cathedral of Novogorod.
The manner of administering the sacrament in the Greek Church differs
from that of ours. The priest holds the cup in his hand, and presents a
portion of the wine in a spoon to the communicant, together with a small
loaf, something in the shape of what we call a cottage-loaf, which is
always made either by a nun or a priest’s widow, but never by less sacred
hands. A very small triangular piece is cut out of the loaf, which the
communicant takes with the wine.
Everybody in Russia is expected to take the communion once a year at the
least, and those in the government employ must produce a certificate from
the clergyman to that effect.
We once went to witness the ceremony of electing the mayor of a town:
it took place in the cathedral. The bishop, a venerable-looking old man,
was standing in the front of the altar when we entered; on his right hand
was the golden cross, borne by a priest, and the Bible placed on a stand.
Each officer in succession first kissed the cross, then the book, and
lastly the prelate’s hand, as a token of his faithfulness to the chief of
the commonalty. The address of the bishop and his benediction terminated
the election.
There is a very curious painting on the walls of the cathedral in
Archangel. It represents the parable of the mote and the beam; the
former is depicted as a large branch of holly, stuck in a man’s eye;
the latter as an immense rafter traversing his neighbour’s head. On the
other side is a large view of the place of final punishment, in which
hideous-looking devils, with birds’ claws in lieu of hands and feet, are
engaged in punishing the wicked.
A Russian funeral, if it be that of a rich person, is a very splendid
sight. An old lady of rank, with whom I was acquainted, died suddenly.
A description of her interment may serve to convey an idea of such in
general.
No sooner had it been ascertained that life was extinct, than the body
was carefully washed, and dressed in the handsomest gown she possessed
when alive, together with all the remaining articles of toilet, even
to the satin shoes and silk stockings, the beautiful lace cap trimmed
with flowers, and the white kid gloves, just as if she were going to an
evening party. Sometimes the face is painted, as it was not long ago in
the case of a certain prince in St. Petersburg; but in the instance of
which I speak this was not done.
The body was then placed in the coffin, which is not like those used
in England, but more resembles an ornamental box,[11] highly decorated
with silver lace and large bullion tassels at each corner, and laid on
the table in the great hall of reception. Priests came and sang mass
incessantly night and day until the fourth morning, which is the time
fixed by law for the interment.
During all this time the friends and acquaintances of the family came
and stayed with them in succession night and day, so that they should
not be left alone with the corpse for a single instant; and even for
a considerable time after the funeral, as they have a belief that the
soul still haunts the abode for a stated period previous to taking its
flight to the place of eternal rest. In all cases of domestic misfortune
and trouble the Russians are unequalled in their display of kindness
of heart and sympathy towards the sufferers, and unwearied in their
endeavours to lighten the sorrows of their friends—a most estimable
trait in the national character. It is at such times as these that their
amiable qualities, their charity, and affectionate feelings ought to be
witnessed: they serve to counterbalance the grave faults and errors of
which they are guilty.
When the day of interment arrived, the cover of the coffin was placed on
it, but was not fastened down—that is done at the very last moment; the
coffin was then placed on an open hearse, a rich pall of cloth of gold
was partly thrown over it, on which a silver cross was embroidered.
But previously I should mention that a piece of paper was placed in the
hand of the corpse, a kind of certificate from the priest, a passport to
heaven. This may remind the reader of the Egyptian custom of judging the
dead and the story of Charon.
When all was ready the procession set out; although it was midday,
several men with lighted torches preceded it. They were dressed in long
black cloaks, with very broad-brimmed hats, ornamented with streamers of
white ribbon. Then followed the bishop, wearing his mitre, and carrying
a golden cross, accompanied by several priests and deacons, habited in
black velvet robes, trimmed with silver lace, bearing church banners and
pictures of saints, followed by a number of choristers chanting a part of
the mass for the dead. After them came the hearse, drawn by four black
horses, covered with cloth, escorted by more torchbearers: immediately
following were the nearest relatives; a long line of carriages belonging
to friends and acquaintances closed the procession. After the interment
was over, the priests and acquaintances returned to the house and partook
of a magnificent repast, which it is the custom to provide on these
occasions. I believe that it was on the fortieth day after the death
that the nearest relatives went to the church, and made an offering of
rice, bread, and salt, the reason of which they could not tell us, but
said it was an ancient rite that ought to be attended to. Probably, like
many of their customs, it is one derived from the East. The ceremony of
blessing the waters twice a year, which has been so often described, the
reverence shown to doves and pigeons, although ascribed by the Russians
to a Christian origin, must (if Asiatic travellers tell truly) have had
a similar one.
The same may be said of their driving out to meet the summer, which
seems to find its counterpart in China; and the presentation of the
egg at Easter might have been derived from the Hindoo religion, as we
are told that the Brahmins affirm that the Creator was floating on the
surface of the waters under the form of an egg. It is certain that some
superstitions regarding this object must have a more ancient origin than
the Christian era, so many traces of it having been found in Egyptian
tombs; nor can it have been since that time confined to the Christian
Church alone; for when we were at Twer a new road was being cut close
to our house, and the men in digging came to a Tartar burying-ground;
hundreds of coffins were removed, and in many _eggs_ were found; some of
them were brought to us. The bodies were all enclosed in strips of the
birch-bark, but a few had the remains of the Tartar costume. In speaking
on this subject I may mention that in one coffin a large bottle of some
strong liquor was discovered, which the workmen had no sooner opened than
they drank the whole of its contents, which they pronounced as some of
the best they had ever tasted! It had probably been some centuries under
ground.
We were once at a grand festival given in honour of the memory of a rich
proprietor on the anniversary of his death: it lasted three days, and
was in fact a “wake,” as the Irish call it. It differed in no way from
an ordinary rejoicing, excepting that we went in the morning to church,
in which all the peasants belonging to the estate were assembled. In
the afternoon the villagers danced in front of the edifice, just as
they would have done at a wedding, whilst the friends of the gentleman
at whose house it was given dined together. There were all kinds of
delicacies and every description of wine—champagne, œil de perdrix,
burgundy, claret, &c.
A family with whom my friends were acquainted had the misfortune to
lose their mother. The friends and relatives of the deceased as usual
assembled to keep the survivors company, and the people below stairs
actually played at cards, whilst the clergy above were singing the
mass over the corpse. The reason given us was “que c’était tellement
ennuyant à s’asseoir et ne rien faire;” but this was an exception to the
general conduct on such occasions. The Russians believe in the efficacy
of prayers for the dead, and for the good of souls in the intermediate
state, but they do not seem to have any very definite ideas about
purgatory. Indeed the Greek religion only teaches that there are two
places: one for the good, and the other for the bad. Yet they attend to
the annual performance of a mass for those that are departed, and hold
the communion of spirits in its literal sense. They endeavour by every
means to render the prospect of death less terrible, yet perhaps there is
not a nation upon the earth that contemplates it with so great horror and
dread: like the ancient Romans, they cannot endure to hear it even named
before them, and frequently, when death becomes accidentally the subject
of conversation, they will beg that the subject may be dropped as being
too disagreeable.
One morning the porter found a basket on the snow in front of the house
in which we were residing, and brought it to the princess. To our
astonishment, on removing the numerous wrappings on the top, a little
baby of not more than a few days old was exposed to our view. Madame,
although she had six children of her own, immediately, with all the
kindness of a Russian, declared that she would adopt it. “She would
not,” she said, “on any account show such inhospitality to the little
distressed stranger as to send it away; it had been evidently destined
by Heaven that it should be left at her gate, so that she might afford
it the protection its own unfortunate mother was unable to give it.” She
therefore immediately sent to a priest, and requested him to christen
the child, and she and the prince stood as sponsors. It is a curious
thing that among the Russians the _father_ and _mother_ of an infant not
only cannot stand as sponsors to it, but they are not allowed to _be
present_ at its baptism. The godfather and godmother, by answering for
the child, become related to it, and to _each other_; and a lady and
gentleman who have stood as sponsors to the same child are not allowed to
marry each other. The form of christening differs materially from that
of our Church. The priest takes the child, which is quite naked, and,
holding it by the head, so that his thumb and finger stop the orifices of
the ears, he dips it thrice into the water; he cuts off a small portion
of the hair, which he twists up with a little wax from the tapers and
throws into the font; then, anointing the baby’s breast, hands, and feet
with the holy oil, and making the sign of the cross with the same on the
forehead, he concludes by a prayer and benediction.
In regard to the authenticity of the pictures of Christ, I have often
asked my Russian friends how they could prove that the portrait before
which they bowed really in any way resembled the Saviour or the Virgin.
“In respect to that of Christ,” was the reply, “we are convinced of its
being like him, for, when he had wiped the apostles’ feet, to show a
still greater humility, he immediately after removed the moisture from
his own face with the same cloth, and his likeness became instantly
miraculously reflected thereon. It is from this towel, which some say is
still preserved, that all the portraits have been handed down to us.”
“Well! but you have not accounted for that of the Virgin; we have no
record of her wiping the feet of any one.” “How you heretics talk!”
exclaimed they; “why, have you never heard how many miraculous pictures
of her have descended from heaven? they must needs be like her, for they
were painted by the angels themselves who attend on her.”
It appears that there are a great many of these portraits dispersed about
Russia, for we saw several miracle-working ones in different parts of the
country. In Moscow I frequently met a carriage and six, with postilions,
coachman, and two footmen behind, all with uncovered heads, though it
might have been in the depth of winter. It contained a portrait of the
Virgin placed on the seat of honour, with two priests sitting facing it.
All the people along the streets took off their hats and made the sign of
the cross as it passed by, and seemed to regard it with as much respect
as they would have done the Czar himself. During the time of the cholera
I frequently used to see this carriage pass, and my Russian friends
informed me that the presence of the image served to raise the spirits
of the people, who believed that the dreadful scourge became lessened by
it. I was even assured that, when taken, as it frequently was, into the
chamber of the dying, their faith in it was so great that they had been
often known to rally their failing energies and recover from a hopeless
sickness, even after they had been entirely given over by the doctors
that attended them. “But as it costs a great deal of money,” continued my
informant, “to cause a miraculous portrait to be brought to a house, of
course only the rich can afford it.”
In St. Petersburg there are very often processions of these pictures when
the cholera is about, or any great event takes place: I saw them many
times. The priests in their magnificent robes, bearing golden crosses and
sacred banners, and several deacons carrying some miraculous portrait
or other, go round the town accompanied by a band of choristers singing
mass, and followed by immense crowds of the poorer classes, who consider
themselves to be thereby performing an act of great devotion, every man
having his head uncovered during the whole time. The picture is generally
taken to some church, wherein mass is performed in its presence. When I
was staying in Jaroslaf one spring, I had an opportunity of seeing the
extent to which the superstition of the people and their reverence for
these pictures prevailed.
As soon as the Volga was cleared of ice, hundreds of pilgrims and
peasants from all parts of the country poured into the town, and they
might have been seen in groups lying asleep on the bare ground, both men
and women, there not being lodgings sufficient for their accommodation,
but they probably preferred the open air, as they frequently sleep by
the roadside on their marches. The custom of going on a pilgrimage is
very general in Russia. We had a servant who went from St. Petersburg
to Jerusalem and back again on foot. She went to the holy sepulchre
to return thanks for her son’s recovery from sickness, and was absent
a year. There is really something very affecting in such an act of
gratitude and devotion.
The object of the pilgrimage to Jaroslaf was to assist in the procession
of a wonderful miraculous picture of the Virgin, which was shortly
expected to arrive from a monastery distant about eighty versts down the
river.
The day at length came. Several barks with streamers flying and sacred
banners displayed were seen from afar. On their nearer approach the
sound of monkish hymns floating on the air caused a lively excitement
among the people, who began crossing themselves with extreme assiduity.
At last the Virgin disembarked: she was received by the governor with
intense respect, who, together with the vice-governor, the maréchal
de noblesse, the military, the police, and all the employés, were in
their most magnificent uniforms. Those who had stars and crosses (which
are about as plentiful in Russia as gingerbread-nuts at a fair, and as
valuable) displayed them in their full splendour on this occasion in
rows along their breast. The mayor and shopkeepers, and about twenty
thousand of the lower classes all in their gala dresses, the pilgrims,
and large numbers of children, accompanied the picture in the procession
round the town, the governor walking next to it and the rest following
according to their rank. It was then placed in the cathedral, where it
was to remain for some weeks in order to receive the adoration (_and the
money_) of the devout. Hearing so much about this wonderful portrait, I
was induced to pay it a visit also. It was some time ere I could make my
way into the cathedral, so great was the crowd, but at last my friend and
I reached the altar on which it was placed. Certes, if the angels are
no better artists they would assuredly starve on earth, for nobody, and
certainly no _lady_, would wish her likeness taken in the same style.
It could be compared to nothing but to a piece of a brown saddle, with
some dark lines for the eyebrows, added to which the unfortunate Virgin
had no nose—great age had deprived her of every trace of it. As usual
in these old pictures, nothing but the face and hands were visible: the
crown and robes were sheets of gold set with precious stones. A priest
was standing near singing mass, another by his side had a tray in his
hands, a third had charge of a powder-puff and a bowl of flour. As soon
as the worshipper had contributed to the tray, the priest with the puff
powdered the Madonna’s hand, and then the former was permitted to have
the consolation of kissing it, which he did with many bows and crossings;
he then retired with the air of being highly edified with what he had
done: hundreds of people in succession performed the same ceremony. The
clergy must obtain immense sums of money by means of these miraculous
portraits, for I am afraid to say how frequently, even during the short
time we were in the cathedral, the tray was filled by the offerings and
taken to a chest placed against the wall, and secured by three locks,
into which its contents were emptied. To be sure, a great deal of the
coin was in copper, but there was also a fair quantity of silver.
The history of this Madonna may serve to give an idea of the traditions
taught not only to the common people but to those of education.
It was in the fourteenth century, they say, that a holy pilgrim, on
his way to Jerusalem, rested a night on the banks of the Volga, and
lo! whilst he slept a vision appeared unto him and told him that under
a certain tree on the opposite side of the river he should find the
portrait of the “Mother of God.” In troubled agitation he awoke, for he
knew that he had seen the blessed Virgin herself. On looking round him
he perceived, to his unspeakable astonishment, that he had been conveyed
in a miraculous manner across the rapid waters in the night, and that he
was reposing under the very tree described in his dream. Near him was the
heavenly portrait mentioned by the spiritual visitant. He gazed on it
in silent extasy, but on reflection he felt convinced that he ought to
make known the event to the proper authorities: he therefore proceeded to
a neighbouring monastery and informed the venerable abbot and brothers
of the facts. They immediately set out in grand procession to the spot,
singing joyfully on the way, and there, as the pilgrim had said, was the
miraculous portrait, now guarded by two bright angels, who instantly
vanished. The abbot and the brotherhood interpreted the vision as the
desire of Heaven that a church should be built on the spot, which was
accordingly done, and the wonderful picture was reverently placed in it.
The service in the Russian Church is neither in Greek nor in the vulgar
tongue, but in Sclavonic, which has about the same resemblance to Russ as
the old English has to the modern. Religious ceremonies are used on all
the ordinary occasions of life; in removing from one house to another,
when the priest comes and sprinkles the doorposts and the threshold,
blesses the images, and says prayers; on the reopening of a school after
the vacation; on the anniversary of alleged victories, when perhaps a
dozen enemies have fallen and the rest run away; thanksgivings for having
taken a flag from the Turks (which is then paraded round the town with
a band of music playing); Te Deums for such triumphs as that of Odessa,
when, indeed, they might have had good reason to praise Heaven that their
foes were _too merciful_; &c. &c.
Confession is one of the sacraments, but it is by no means of so
particular a kind as among the Roman Catholics, but in a much more
general sense, and is ordinarily made but once a year, during the first
or last week in Lent. The six or eight days preceding the performance
of this duty the penitents attend mass twice a day very strictly and
fast conscientiously in order to prepare themselves for it. They assured
me that it was not necessary to name any particular sin, but that, in
acknowledging themselves guilty of having broken the commandments,
they are exhorted by the confessor and advised to repent. The rite is
generally performed at home, the priest attending for that purpose, and
not in the church, but they go thither the next morning, or perhaps the
same evening, to communicate: even the merest children are expected to
confess, but it is not necessary that they should fast.
On Good Friday the ceremony of Christ’s interment takes place: it is
conducted in exactly the same manner as if it were a real funeral. I
witnessed this ceremony at one of the cathedrals.
First came the priests and deacons bearing sacred banners, on which
were depicted the lying in the sepulchre, the Resurrection, and various
other incidents in the history of the Saviour; next two clergymen, who
preceded the archbishop, a fine old man with a long silvery beard; four
others followed him, who bore the coffin on their shoulders: the whole of
the officiating clergy were dressed in black and silver. I followed the
procession into the cathedral, and the service immediately commenced by
the choristers chanting a psalm whilst the supposed body was being placed
before the altar. On that being accomplished, the archbishop advanced and
prostrated himself thrice on the pavement, each time being raised by the
attendant priests, after which he kissed with great reverence the hands
and feet of the image on the cover of the coffin, walked three times
round the bier and bowed, signing himself with the cross at each corner;
he then concluded the act of worship by prostrating himself as before.
After the archbishop had retired, the different members of the clergy
advanced two and two and performed the same devotions. The prelate then
seated himself on a throne, a priest advanced and read a discourse to
the people, which contained some excellent moral advice, and the service
concluded with the usual benedictions.
The high mass in the Kazane church in St. Petersburg is well worthy of
the stranger’s attendance, especially when the metropolitan officiates.
His venerable figure standing before the altar offering incense, the
prostrations of the clergy, their splendid dresses, the beautiful voices
of the two bands of choristers alternately making the responses whilst
the high priest is in the seclusion of the Holy of Holies interceding
with Heaven for the sins of the people, have an imposing and solemn
effect. Although their creed may not be ours, still it is impossible to
assist at such a service without being edified, or without feeling that
it is the house of the great Father of all in which the prayers are being
offered; but this feeling of reverence was greatly diminished by the
scenes that were enacted on our leaving the church. The lower class, as
usual, rushed forward to kiss the metropolitan’s hand, when the police
made a charge on them in a body, and there was such a scuffling and such
a shower of blows given right and left as would have been a disgrace to
a den of thieves. At last, with great exertions, a space was cleared,
and the prelate, surrounded by the officials, was hustled out more like
a criminal than aught else, and safely lodged in the carriage. We then,
amidst a crowd of whining beggars and mendicant nuns and monks, with
difficulty made our way into the open air. It was really a pleasure to do
so, for the smell of the incense, the smoke of so many lamps and candles,
the bad odour that there always is in a Russian crowd (perhaps from the
sheepskins), made the fresh breeze outside particularly agreeable.