FINNISH AND TARTAR VILLAGES
A Finnish Tribe--Finnish Villages--Various Stages of
Russification--Finnish Women--Finnish Religions--Method of "Laying"
Ghosts--Curious Mixture of Christianity and Paganism--Conversion of
the Finns--A Tartar Village--A Russian Peasant's Conception of
Mahometanism--A Mahometan's View of Christianity--Propaganda--The
Russian Colonist--Migrations of Peoples During the Dark Ages.
When talking one day with a landed proprietor who lived near Ivanofka,
I accidentally discovered that in a district at some distance to the
northeast there were certain villages the inhabitants of which did not
understand Russian, and habitually used a peculiar language of their
own. With an illogical hastiness worthy of a genuine ethnologist, I at
once assumed that these must be the remnants of some aboriginal race.
"Des aborigenes!" I exclaimed, unable to recall the Russian equivalent
for the term, and knowing that my friend understood French. "Doubtless
the remains of some ancient race who formerly held the country, and are
now rapidly disappearing. Have you any Aborigines Protection Society in
this part of the world?"
My friend had evidently great difficulty in imagining what an Aborigines
Protection Society could be, and promptly assured me that there was
nothing of the kind in Russia. On being told that such a society might
render valuable services by protecting the weaker against the stronger
race, and collecting important materials for the new science of Social
Embryology, he looked thoroughly mystified. As to the new science,
he had never heard of it, and as to protection, he thought that the
inhabitants of the villages in question were quite capable of protecting
themselves. "I could invent," he added, with a malicious smile, "a
society for the protection of ALL peasants, but I am quite sure that the
authorities would not allow me to carry out my idea."
My ethnological curiosity was thoroughly aroused, and I endeavoured to
awaken a similar feeling in my friend by hinting that we had at hand a
promising field for discoveries which might immortalise the fortunate
explorers; but my efforts were in vain. The old gentleman was a portly,
indolent man, of phlegmatic temperament, who thought more of comfort
than of immortality in the terrestrial sense of the term. To my proposal
that we should start at once on an exploring expedition, he replied
calmly that the distance was considerable, that the roads were muddy,
and that there was nothing to be learned. The villages in question were
very like other villages, and their inhabitants lived, to all intents
and purposes, in the same way as their Russian neighbours. If they had
any secret peculiarities they would certainly not divulge them to
a stranger, for they were notoriously silent, gloomy, morose, and
uncommunicative. Everything that was known about them, my friend assured
me, might be communicated in a few words. They belonged to a Finnish
tribe called Korelli, and had been transported to their present
settlements in comparatively recent times. In answer to my questions as
to how, when, and by whom they had been transported thither my informant
replied that it had been the work of Ivan the Terrible.
Though I knew at that time little of Russian history, I suspected that
the last assertion was invented on the spur of the moment, in order to
satisfy my troublesome curiosity, and accordingly I determined not
to accept it without verification. The result showed how careful
the traveller should be in accepting the testimony of "intelligent,
well-informed natives." On further investigation I discovered, not only
that the story about Ivan the Terrible was a pure invention--whether of
my friend or of the popular imagination, which always uses heroic names
as pegs on which to hang traditions, I know not--but also that my first
theory was correct. These Finnish peasants turned out to be a remnant
of the aborigines, or at least of the oldest known inhabitants of the
district. Men of the same race, but bearing different tribal names,
such as Finns, Korelli, Tcheremiss, Tchuvash, Mordva, Votyaks, Permyaks,
Zyryanye, Voguls, are to be found in considerable numbers all over the
northern provinces, from the Gulf of Bothnia to Western Siberia, as well
as in the provinces bordering the Middle Volga as far south as Penza,
Simbirsk, and Tamboff.* The Russian peasants, who now compose the great
mass of the population, are the intruders.
* The semi-official "Statesman's Handbook for Russia,"
published in 1896, enumerates fourteen different tribes,
with an aggregate of about 4,650,000 souls, but these
numbers must not be regarded as having any pretensions to
accuracy. The best authorities differ widely in their
estimates.
I had long taken a deep interest in what learned Germans call the
Volkerwanderung--that is to say, the migrations of peoples during the
gradual dissolution of the Roman Empire, and it had often occurred to me
that the most approved authorities, who had expended an infinite
amount of learning on the subject, had not always taken the trouble to
investigate the nature of the process. It is not enough to know that
a race or tribe extended its dominions or changed its geographical
position. We ought at the same time to inquire whether it expelled,
exterminated, or absorbed the former inhabitants, and how the expulsion,
extermination, or absorption was effected. Now of these three processes,
absorption may have been more frequent than is commonly supposed, and it
seemed to me that in Northern Russia this process might be conveniently
studied. A thousand years ago the whole of Northern Russia was peopled
by Finnish pagan tribes, and at the present day the greater part of it
is occupied by peasants who speak the language of Moscow, profess the
Orthodox faith, present in their physiognomy no striking peculiarities,
and appear to the superficial observer pure Russians. And we have
no reason to suppose that the former inhabitants were expelled or
exterminated, or that they gradually died out from contact with the
civilisation and vices of a higher race. History records no
wholesale Finnish migrations like that of the Kalmyks, and no war of
extermination; and statistics prove that among the remnants of those
primitive races the population increases as rapidly as among the Russian
peasantry.* From these facts I concluded that the Finnish aborigines had
been simply absorbed, or rather, were being absorbed, by the Slavonic
intruders.
* This latter statement is made on the authority of Popoff
("Zyryanye i zyryanski krai," Moscow, 1874) and
Tcheremshanski ("Opisanie Orenburgskoi Gubernii," Ufa,
1859).
This conclusion has since been confirmed by observation. During my
wanderings in these northern provinces I have found villages in every
stage of Russification. In one, everything seemed thoroughly Finnish:
the inhabitants had a reddish-olive skin, very high cheek-bones,
obliquely set eyes, and a peculiar costume; none of the women, and very
few of the men, could understand Russian, and any Russian who visited
the place was regarded as a foreigner. In a second, there were already
some Russian inhabitants; the others had lost something of their pure
Finnish type, many of the men had discarded the old costume and spoke
Russian fluently, and a Russian visitor was no longer shunned. In a
third, the Finnish type was still further weakened: all the men spoke
Russian, and nearly all the women understood it; the old male costume
had entirely disappeared, and the old female costume was rapidly
following it; while intermarriage with the Russian population was no
longer rare. In a fourth, intermarriage had almost completely done its
work, and the old Finnish element could be detected merely in certain
peculiarities of physiognomy and pronunciation.*
* One of the most common peculiarities of pronunciation is
the substitution of the sound of ts for that of tch, which I
found almost universal over a large area.
The process of Russification may be likewise observed in the manner of
building the houses and in the methods of farming, which show plainly
that the Finnish races did not obtain rudimentary civilisation from the
Slavs. Whence, then, was it derived? Was it obtained from some other
race, or is it indigenous? These are questions which I have no means of
answering.
A Positivist poet--or if that be a contradiction in terms, let us say
a Positivist who wrote verses--once composed an appeal to the fair sex,
beginning with the words:
"Pourquoi, O femmes, restez-vous en arriere?"
The question might have been addressed to the women in these Finnish
villages. Like their sisters in France, they are much more conservative
than the men, and oppose much more stubbornly the Russian influence.
On the other hand, like women in general, when they do begin to change,
they change more rapidly. This is seen especially in the matter of
costume. The men adopt the Russian costume very gradually; the women
adopt it at once. As soon as a single woman gets a gaudy Russian dress,
every other woman in the village feels envious and impatient till she
has done likewise. I remember once visiting a Mordva village when this
critical point had been reached, and a very characteristic incident
occurred. In the preceding villages through which I had passed I had
tried in vain to buy a female costume, and I again made the attempt.
This time the result was very different. A few minutes after I had
expressed my wish to purchase a costume, the house in which I was
sitting was besieged by a great crowd of women, holding in their hands
articles of wearing apparel. In order to make a selection I went out
into the crowd, but the desire to find a purchaser was so general and
so ardent that I was regularly mobbed. The women, shouting "Kupi! kupi!"
("Buy! buy!"), and struggling with each other to get near me, were so
importunate that I had at last to take refuge in the house, to prevent
my own costume from being torn to shreds. But even there I was not
safe, for the women followed at my heels, and a considerable amount of
good-natured violence had to be employed to expel the intruders.
It is especially interesting to observe the transformation of
nationality in the sphere of religious conceptions. The Finns remained
pagans long after the Russians had become Christians, but at the present
time the whole population, from the eastern boundary of Finland proper
to the Ural Mountains, are officially described as members of the
Greek Orthodox Church. The manner in which this change of religion was
effected is well worthy of attention.
The old religion of the Finnish tribes, if we may judge from the
fragments which still remain, had, like the people themselves, a
thoroughly practical, prosaic character. Their theology consisted not of
abstract dogmas, but merely of simple prescriptions for the ensuring
of material welfare. Even at the present day, in the districts not
completely Russified, their prayers are plain, unadorned requests for
a good harvest, plenty of cattle, and the like, and are expressed in a
tone of childlike familiarity that sounds strange in our ears. They
make no attempt to veil their desires with mystic solemnity, but ask, in
simple, straightforward fashion, that God should make the barley ripen
and the cow calve successfully, that He should prevent their horses from
being stolen, and that he should help them to gain money to pay their
taxes.
Their religious ceremonies have, so far as I have been able to discover,
no hidden mystical signification, and are for the most part rather
magical rites for averting the influence of malicious spirits,
or freeing themselves from the unwelcome visits of their departed
relatives. For this latter purpose many even of those who are officially
Christians proceed at stated seasons to the graveyards and place an
abundant supply of cooked food on the graves of their relations who have
recently died, requesting the departed to accept this meal, and not to
return to their old homes, where their presence is no longer desired.
Though more of the food is eaten at night by the village dogs than
by the famished spirits, the custom is believed to have a powerful
influence in preventing the dead from wandering about at night and
frightening the living. If it be true, as I am inclined to believe, that
tombstones were originally used for keeping the dead in their graves,
then it must be admitted that in the matter of "laying" ghosts the
Finns have shown themselves much more humane than other races. It
may, however, be suggested that in the original home of the Finns--"le
berceau de la race," as French ethnologists say--stones could not easily
be procured, and that the custom of feeding the dead was adopted as a
pis aller. The decision of the question must be left to those who know
where the original home of the Finns was.
As the Russian peasantry, knowing little or nothing of theology, and
placing implicit confidence in rites and ceremonies, did not differ very
widely from the pagan Finns in the matter of religious conceptions, the
friendly contact of the two races naturally led to a curious blending of
the two religions. The Russians adopted many customs from the Finns,
and the Finns adopted still more from the Russians. When Yumala and the
other Finnish deities did not do as they were desired, their worshippers
naturally applied for protection or assistance to the Madonna and the
"Russian God." If their own traditional magic rites did not suffice to
ward off evil influences, they naturally tried the effect of crossing
themselves, as the Russians do in moments of danger. All this may seem
strange to us who have been taught from our earliest years that religion
is something quite different from spells, charms, and incantations, and
that of all the various religions in the world one alone is true, all
the others being false. But we must remember that the Finns have had a
very different education. They do not distinguish religion from magic
rites, and they have never been taught that other religions are less
true than their own. For them the best religion is the one which
contains the most potent spells, and they see no reason why less
powerful religions should not be blended therewith. Their deities are
not jealous gods, and do not insist on having a monopoly of devotion;
and in any case they cannot do much injury to those who have placed
themselves under the protection of a more powerful divinity.
This simple-minded eclecticism often produces a singular mixture of
Christianity and paganism. Thus, for instance, at the harvest festivals,
Tchuvash peasants have been known to pray first to their own deities,
and then to St. Nicholas, the miracle-worker, who is the favourite
saint of the Russian peasantry. Such dual worship is sometimes
even recommended by the Yomzi--a class of men who correspond to the
medicine-men among the Red Indians--and the prayers are on these
occasions couched in the most familiar terms. Here is a specimen given
by a Russian who has specially studied the language and customs of this
interesting people:* "Look here, O Nicholas-god! Perhaps my neighbour,
little Michael, has been slandering me to you, or perhaps he will do
so. If he does, don't believe him. I have done him no ill, and wish him
none. He is a worthless boaster and a babbler. He does not really honour
you, and merely plays the hypocrite. But I honour you from my heart;
and, behold, I place a taper before you!" Sometimes incidents occur
which display a still more curious blending of the two religions. Thus
a Tcheremiss, on one occasion, in consequence of a serious illness,
sacrificed a young foal to our Lady of Kazan!
* Mr. Zolotnitski, "Tchuvasko-russki slovar," p. 167.
Though the Finnish beliefs affected to some extent the Russian
peasantry, the Russian faith ultimately prevailed. This can be
explained without taking into consideration the inherent superiority
of Christianity over all forms of paganism. The Finns had no organised
priesthood, and consequently never offered a systematic opposition to
the new faith; the Russians, on the contrary, had a regular hierarchy in
close alliance with the civil administration. In the principal villages
Christian churches were built, and some of the police-officers vied with
the ecclesiastical officials in the work of making converts. At the same
time there were other influences tending in the same direction. If
a Russian practised Finnish superstitions he exposed himself to
disagreeable consequences of a temporal kind; if, on the contrary, a
Finn adopted the Christian religion, the temporal consequences that
could result were all advantageous to him.
Many of the Finns gradually became Christians almost unconsciously. The
ecclesiastical authorities were extremely moderate in their demands.
They insisted on no religious knowledge, and merely demanded that the
converts should be baptised. The converts, failing to understand the
spiritual significance of the ceremony, commonly offered no resistance,
so long as the immersion was performed in summer. So little repugnance,
indeed, did they feel, that on some occasions, when a small reward
was given to those who consented, some of the new converts wished the
ceremony to be repeated several times. The chief objection to receiving
the Christian faith lay in the long and severe fasts imposed by the
Greek Orthodox Church; but this difficulty was overcome by assuming that
they need not be strictly observed. At first, in some districts, it was
popularly believed that the Icons informed the Russian priests against
those who did not fast as the Church prescribed; but experience
gradually exploded this theory. Some of the more prudent converts,
however, to prevent all possible tale-telling, took the precaution of
turning the face of the Icon to the wall when prohibited meats were
about to be eaten!
This gradual conversion of the Finnish tribes, effected without any
intellectual revolution in the minds of the converts, had very important
temporal consequences. Community of faith led to intermarriage, and
intermarriage led rapidly to the blending of the two races.
If we compare a Finnish village in any stage of Russification with a
Tartar village, of which the inhabitants are Mahometans, we cannot fail
to be struck by the contrast. In the latter, though there may be many
Russians, there is no blending of the two races. Between them religion
has raised an impassable barrier. There are many villages in the eastern
and north-eastern provinces of European Russia which have been for
generations half Tartar and half Russian, and the amalgamation of
the two nationalities has not yet begun. Near the one end stands the
Christian church, and near the other stands the little metchet, or
Mahometan house of prayer. The whole village forms one Commune, with one
Village Assembly and one Village Elder; but, socially, it is composed
of two distinct communities, each possessing its peculiar customs and
peculiar mode of life. The Tartar may learn Russian, but he does not on
that account become Russianised.
It must not, however, be supposed that the two races are imbued with
fanatical hatred towards each other. On the contrary, they live in
perfect good-fellowship, elect as Village Elder sometimes a Russian
and sometimes a Tartar, and discuss the Communal affairs in the Village
Assembly without reference to religious matters. I know one village
where the good-fellowship went even a step farther: the Christians
determined to repair their church, and the Mahometans helped them to
transport wood for the purpose! All this tends to show that under a
tolerably good Government, which does not favour one race at the expense
of the other, Mahometan Tartars and Christian Slavs can live peaceably
together.
The absence of fanaticism and of that proselytising zeal which is one of
the most prolific sources of religious hatred, is to be explained by
the peculiar religious conceptions of these peasants. In their
minds religion and nationality are so closely allied as to be almost
identical. The Russian is, as it were, by nature a Christian, and the
Tartar a Mahometan; and it never occurs to any one in these villages
to disturb the appointed order of nature. On this subject I had once an
interesting conversation with a Russian peasant who had been for some
time living among Tartars. In reply to my question as to what kind of
people the Tartars were, he replied laconically, "Nitchevo"--that is to
say, "nothing in particular"; and on being pressed for a more definite
expression of opinion, he admitted that they were very good people
indeed.
"And what kind of faith have they?" I continued.
"A good enough faith," was the prompt reply.
"Is it better than the faith of the Molokanye?" The Molokanye are
Russian sectarians--closely resembling Scotch Presbyterians--of whom I
shall have more to say in the sequel.
"Of course it is better than the Molokan faith."
"Indeed!" I exclaimed, endeavouring to conceal my astonishment at this
strange judgment. "Are the Molokanye, then, very bad people?"
"Not at all. The Molokanye are good and honest."
"Why, then, do you think their faith is so much worse than that of the
Mahometans?"
"How shall I tell you?" The peasant here paused as if to collect his
thoughts, and then proceeded slowly, "The Tartars, you see, received
their faith from God as they received the colour of their skins, but
the Molokanye are Russians who have invented a faith out of their own
heads!"
This singular answer scarcely requires a commentary. As it would be
absurd to try to make Tartars change the colour of their skins, so it
would be absurd to try to make them change their religion. Besides this,
such an attempt would be an unjustifiable interference with the designs
of Providence, for, in the peasant's opinion, God gave Mahometanism to
the Tartars just as he gave the Orthodox faith to the Russians.
The ecclesiastical authorities do not formally adopt this strange
theory, but they generally act in accordance with it. There is little
official propaganda among the Mahometan subjects of the Tsar, and it is
well that it is so, for an energetic propaganda would lead merely to
the stirring up of any latent hostility which may exist deep down in the
nature of the two races, and it would not make any real converts. The
Tartars cannot unconsciously imbibe Christianity as the Finns have done.
Their religion is not a rude, simple paganism without theology in
the scholastic sense of the term, but a monotheism as exclusive as
Christianity itself. Enter into conversation with an intelligent man
who has no higher religious belief than a rude sort of paganism, and you
may, if you know him well and make a judicious use of your knowledge,
easily interest him in the touching story of Christ's life and teaching.
And in these unsophisticated natures there is but one step from interest
and sympathy to conversion.
Try the same method with a Mussulman, and you will soon find that all
your efforts are fruitless. He has already a theology and a prophet of
his own, and sees no reason why he should exchange them for those which
you have to offer. Perhaps he will show you more or less openly that he
pities your ignorance and wonders that you have not been able to ADVANCE
from Christianity to Mahometanism. In his opinion--I am supposing that
he is a man of education--Moses and Christ were great prophets in their
day, and consequently he is accustomed to respect their memory; but he
is profoundly convinced that however appropriate they were for their own
times, they have been entirely superseded by Mahomet, precisely as
we believe that Judaism was superseded by Christianity. Proud of his
superior knowledge, he regards you as a benighted polytheist, and may
perhaps tell you that the Orthodox Christians with whom he comes in
contact have three Gods and a host of lesser deities called saints, that
they pray to idols called Icons, and that they keep their holy days by
getting drunk. In vain you endeavour to explain to him that saints
and Icons are not essential parts of Christianity, and that habits of
intoxication have no religious significance. On these points he may make
concessions to you, but the doctrine of the Trinity remains for him a
fatal stumbling-block. "You Christians," he will say, "once had a great
prophet called Jisous, who is mentioned with respect in the Koran, but
you falsified your sacred writings and took to worshipping him, and
now you declare that he is the equal of Allah. Far from us be such
blasphemy! There is but one God, and Mahomet is His prophet."
A worthy Christian missionary, who had laboured long and zealously among
a Mussulman population, once called me sharply to account for having
expressed the opinion that Mahometans are very rarely converted to
Christianity. When I brought him down from the region of vague general
statements and insisted on knowing how many cases he had met with in his
own personal experience during sixteen years of missionary work, he was
constrained to admit that he had know only one: and when I pressed him
farther as to the disinterested sincerity of the convert in question his
reply was not altogether satisfactory.
The policy of religious non-intervention has not always been practised
by the Government. Soon after the conquest of the Khanate of Kazan in
the sixteenth century, the Tsars of Muscovy attempted to convert their
new subjects from Mahometanism to Christianity. The means employed were
partly spiritual and partly administrative, but the police-officers
seem to have played a more important part than the clergy. In this way
a certain number of Tartars were baptised; but the authorities were
obliged to admit that the new converts "shamelessly retain many horrid
Tartar customs, and neither hold nor know the Christian faith." When
spiritual exhortations failed, the Government ordered its officials to
"pacify, imprison, put in irons, and thereby UNTEACH and frighten from
the Tartar faith those who, though baptised, do not obey the admonitions
of the Metropolitan." These energetic measures proved as ineffectual
as the spiritual exhortations; and Catherine II. adopted a new
method, highly characteristic of her system of administration. The new
converts--who, be it remembered, were unable to read and write--were
ordered by Imperial ukaz to sign a written promise to the effect that
"they would completely forsake their infidel errors, and, avoiding all
intercourse with unbelievers, would hold firmly and unwaveringly the
Christian faith and its dogmas"*--of which latter, we may add, they had
not the slightest knowledge. The childlike faith in the magical efficacy
of stamped paper here displayed was not justified. The so-called
"baptised Tartars" are at the present time as far from being Christians
as they were in the sixteenth century. They cannot openly profess
Mahometanism, because men who have been once formally admitted into
the National Church cannot leave it without exposing themselves to
the severe pains and penalties of the criminal code, but they strongly
object to be Christianised.
* "Ukaz Kazanskoi dukhovnoi Konsistorii." Anno 1778.
On this subject I have found a remarkable admission in a semiofficial
article, published as recently as 1872.* "It is a fact worthy of
attention," says the writer, "that a long series of evident apostasies
coincides with the beginning of measures to confirm the converts in
the Christian faith. There must be, therefore, some collateral cause
producing those cases of apostasy precisely at the moment when the
contrary might be expected." There is a delightful naivete in this
way of stating the fact. The mysterious cause vaguely indicated is not
difficult to find. So long as the Government demanded merely that the
supposed converts should be inscribed as Christians in the official
registers, there was no official apostasy; but as soon as active
measures began to be taken "to confirm the converts," a spirit of
hostility and fanaticism appeared among the Mussulman population, and
made those who were inscribed as Christians resist the propaganda.
* "Zhurnal Ministerstva Narodnago Prosveshtcheniya." June,
1872.
It may safely be said that Christians are impervious to Islam, and
genuine Mussulmans impervious to Christianity; but between the two there
are certain tribes, or fractions of tribes, which present a promising
field for missionary enterprise. In this field the Tartars show much
more zeal than the Russians, and possess certain advantages over their
rivals. The tribes of Northeastern Russia learn Tartar much more easily
than Russian, and their geographical position and modes of life
bring them in contact with Russians much less than with Tartars. The
consequence is that whole villages of Tcheremiss and Votiaks, officially
inscribed as belonging to the Greek Orthodox Church, have openly
declared themselves Mahometans; and some of the more remarkable
conversions have been commemorated by popular songs, which are sung
by young and old. Against this propaganda the Orthodox ecclesiastical
authorities do little or nothing. Though the criminal code contains
severe enactments against those who fall away from the Orthodox Church,
and still more against those who produce apostasy,* the enactments are
rarely put in force. Both clergy and laity in the Russian Church are,
as a rule, very tolerant where no political questions are involved. The
parish priest pays attention to apostasy only when it diminishes his
annual revenues, and this can be easily avoided by the apostate's paying
a small yearly sum. If this precaution be taken, whole villages may be
converted to Islam without the higher ecclesiastical authorities knowing
anything of the matter.
* A person convicted of converting a Christian to Islamism
is sentenced, according to the criminal code (§184), to the
loss of all civil rights, and to imprisonment with hard
labour for a term varying from eight to ten years.
Whether the barrier that separates Christians and Mussulmans in Russia,
as elsewhere, will ever be broken down by education, I do not know; but
I may remark that hitherto the spread of education among the Tartars
has tended rather to imbue them with fanaticism. If we remember that
theological education always produces intolerance, and that Tartar
education is almost exclusively theological, we shall not be surprised
to find that a Tartar's religious fanaticism is generally in direct
proportion to the amount of his intellectual culture. The unlettered
Tartar, unspoiled by learning falsely so called, and knowing merely
enough of his religion to perform the customary ordinances prescribed by
the Prophet, is peaceable, kindly, and hospitable towards all men; but
the learned Tartar, who has been taught that the Christian is a kiafir
(infidel) and a mushrik (polytheist), odious in the sight of Allah, and
already condemned to eternal punishment, is as intolerant and fanatical
as the most bigoted Roman Catholic or Calvinist. Such fanatics are
occasionally to be met with in the eastern provinces, but they are
few in number, and have little influence on the masses. From my own
experience I can testify that during the whole course of my wanderings
I have nowhere received more kindness and hospitality than among the
uneducated Mussulman Bashkirs. Even here, however, Islam opposes a
strong barrier to Russification.
Though no such barrier existed among the pagan Finnish tribes, the work
of Russification among them is still, as I have already indicated, far
from complete. Not only whole villages, but even many entire districts,
are still very little affected by Russian influence. This is to be
explained partly by geographical conditions. In regions which have a
poor soil, and are intersected by no navigable river, there are few or
no Russian settlers, and consequently the Finns have there preserved
intact their language and customs; whilst in those districts which
present more inducements to colonisation, the Russian population is more
numerous, and the Finns less conservative. It must, however, be admitted
that geographical conditions do not completely explain the facts. The
various tribes, even when placed in the same conditions, are not
equally susceptible to foreign influence. The Mordva, for instance,
are infinitely less conservative than the Tchuvash. This I have often
noticed, and my impression has been confirmed by men who have had more
opportunities of observation. For the present we must attribute this to
some occult ethnological peculiarity, but future investigations may some
day supply a more satisfactory explanation. Already I have obtained
some facts which appear to throw light on the subject. The Tchuvash have
certain customs which seem to indicate that they were formerly, if not
avowed Mahometans, at least under the influence of Islam, whilst we have
no reason to suppose that the Mordva ever passed through that school.
The absence of religious fanaticism greatly facilitated Russian
colonisation in these northern regions, and the essentially peaceful
disposition of the Russian peasantry tended in the same direction.
The Russian peasant is admirably fitted for the work of peaceful
agricultural colonisation. Among uncivilised tribes he is good-natured,
long-suffering, conciliatory, capable of bearing extreme hardships, and
endowed with a marvellous power of adapting himself to circumstances.
The haughty consciousness of personal and national superiority
habitually displayed by Englishmen of all ranks when they are brought
in contact with races which they look upon as lower in the scale of
humanity than themselves, is entirely foreign to his character. He has
no desire to rule, and no wish to make the natives hewers of wood and
drawers of water. All he desires is a few acres of land which he and his
family can cultivate; and so long as he is allowed to enjoy these he is
not likely to molest his neighbours. Had the colonists of the Finnish
country been men of Anglo-Saxon race, they would in all probability have
taken possession of the land and reduced the natives to the condition of
agricultural labourers. The Russian colonists have contented themselves
with a humbler and less aggressive mode of action; they have settled
peaceably among the native population, and are rapidly becoming blended
with it. In many districts the so-called Russians have perhaps more
Finnish than Slavonic blood in their veins.
But what has all this to do, it may be asked, with the aforementioned
Volkerwanderung, or migration of peoples, during the Dark Ages? More
than may at first sight appear. Some of the so-called migrations were,
I suspect, not at all migrations in the ordinary sense of the term, but
rather gradual changes, such as those which have taken place, and are
still taking place, in Northern Russia. A thousand years ago what is now
known as the province of Yaroslavl was inhabited by Finns, and now it is
occupied by men who are commonly regarded as pure Slavs. But it would be
an utter mistake to suppose that the Finns of this district migrated to
those more distant regions where they are now to be found. In reality
they formerly occupied, as I have said, the whole of Northern Russia,
and in the province of Yaroslavl they have been transformed by Slav
infiltration. In Central Europe the Slavs may be said in a certain
sense to have retreated, for in former times they occupied the whole of
Northern Germany as far as the Elbe. But what does the word "retreat"
mean in this case? It means probably that the Slays were gradually
Teutonised, and then absorbed by the Teutonic race. Some tribes, it
is true, swept over a part of Europe in genuine nomadic fashion, and
endeavoured perhaps to expel or exterminate the actual possessors of the
soil. This kind of migration may likewise be studied in Russia. But I
must leave the subject till I come to speak of the southern provinces.