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.