_FROM KRASNOIARSK TO ALEXANDREFFSKY._
Situation of Krasnoiarsk.--Our hotel.--Dr. Peacock.--Visit to
prison, hospital, and madhouse.--Cathedral.--Drive in “Rotten
Row.”--Shoeing horses.--Bible affairs at Krasnoiarsk.--Consignment
to Governor for provinces of Yeneseisk and Yakutsk.--Departure
from Krasnoiarsk.--Change of scenery.--Kansk _Okrug_.--Our
arrival anticipated.--Visit to Ispravnik.--Statistics of
crime.--The Protopope of Kansk.--Parochial information.--Demand
for Scriptures.--A travelling companion.--Further posting
help.--Butterflies and mosquitoes.--Nijni Udinsk.--Telma
factory.--A _détour_.--Alexandreffsky.
Siberia, immense as it is, has only 17 towns with a population of more
than 5,000 inhabitants, and of these large towns Krasnoiarsk, with a
population of 13,000, is a fair specimen. It derives its name from
the Russian words _krasnoi_, red, and _yar_, a cliff, in allusion to
the red-coloured marl of the banks on which the town is situated;
its houses being built on the tongue of land at the confluence of
the Yenesei and the Kacha. On the south the plain stretches away for
nine versts, and on the south-west a range of blue hills is descried,
which betray their rocky character by sharp and picturesque outlines.
The opposite bank, too, of the Yenesei has, amidst forest scenery,
some fine rocks, one of which, of curious formation, called the
Tokmak, rises to the dignity of a mount. The Siberians, therefore, are
justified, to a considerable degree, in claiming for Krasnoiarsk that
it is picturesquely situated. It was certainly the prettiest spot we
had thus far seen; and since we made there some pleasant acquaintances,
and received much kindness from the people, it naturally lingers in the
memory as one of the bright spots of our journey.[1]
Having arrived early on the morning of the 24th June, we drove to what
is called an hotel, kept by one “Shlyaktin,” where we engaged the best
room in the house for two shillings a day, with two bedsteads, for
which, as usual in Russia, we provided our own pillows and linen. Other
things were proportionately cheap: turkeys 3_s._ a pair; a whole calf,
nine months old, from 3_s._ to 4_s._; geese from 1_s._ 8_d._ to 2_s._
6_d._ a couple; but pheasants, brought hundreds of miles from Tashkend,
cost 6_s._ a brace.
We had not entered many minutes before several beggars came to the
window to solicit alms, which seemed to be their method of honouring
all newcomers; and if they received anything they crossed themselves,
and no doubt blessed us.[2]
Krasnoiarsk boasts of a Lutheran chapel, though it is without a
resident pastor. We made it our business to go there first, thinking
to find a catechist, Mr. Adamson, for whom we had a letter. He was
away, however, and was represented by an old German woman. Whether she
recognized in us kindred spirits, I know not, but she cried as she
shook our hands and bade us God-speed.
We then accompanied Dr. Peacock, who took us first to see the
prison,[3] and afterwards the large hospital, through which pass
annually about 2,500 patients. A part of it serves as a madhouse, in
which were 48 inmates, 42 of whom were exiles, 28 being pronounced
incurable. From inquiries I made, I did not gather that medical opinion
went so far as to say that banishment drove people mad; but it seemed
that many so afflicted were exiled as prisoners who ought rather to
have been in lunatic asylums as idiots; such, for instance, was the
case of one man who had been sent to Siberia for setting houses on
fire, and who, on arriving, repeated his offence, saying that he did it
“for fun.”[4]
The hospital building had been originally erected as a private
residence by a rich gold-seeker.[5] How far, in its altered condition,
the house suits the purpose of a hospital, I could not judge; for in
Russia they have a habit, in summer, of turning the patients out under
temporary sheds and tents whilst the buildings are being repaired for
the winter; and this was the state of affairs at Krasnoiarsk during
our inspection. But I am afraid the building is not all that could be
desired. At Tomsk we had seen a summer tent-hospital for 20 men with
typhus fever.
Krasnoiarsk has a cathedral, presided over by the Bishop of Yeneseisk,
and four or five churches, one of which was built at a cost of £70,000
by a rich gold-seeker, by name, I think, Kusnitzoff, which, be it known
to English readers, means “Smith.” We made the acquaintance of two of
his daughters during our voyage on the Obi. They had been spending the
winter in Petersburg, and were then travelling a distance of 3,000
miles to spend the summer in Siberia. This was their usual practice.
One of these ladies had travelled to England, had even crossed the
Atlantic to America, and we were glad to renew our acquaintance at
Krasnoiarsk. Theirs was one of the best of the private houses, on
entering which a broad flight of steps led to the upper storey, where
was a drawing-room, or rather a ball-room, containing two grand
pianos, the walls being hung with European oil-paintings, and where,
among other curiosities, we were shown three nuggets of gold, each of
which must have weighed several pounds, but serving no purpose but to
be looked at, save that a natural indentation in one had been used on
certain grand occasions as a cigar-boat. In front of the house was an
enclosure, full of shrubs, dahlias, and flowers; but it was manifest
that horticultural operations were carried on with difficulty. The
Siberians do more with flowers in their rooms, thus adding much to
their beauty.
We dined at this house, and afterwards were taken for a drive. The
plain running south of the town is the “Rotten Row” of Krasnoiarsk;
and here we saw a fair Amazon, of good position, and the mother,
by-the-bye, of three children, with hair cut short behind, sitting
astride her horse, in knickerbockers and high boots. It was the only
instance we saw of this, however; and further east, on the Amur, I met
with a lady in a riding-habit that would have been becoming enough even
in Hyde Park.
We drove some distance up the bank of the Yenesei, intending to visit a
monastery a few miles distant, but were stopped by the unusual height
of the floods, and returned to pass through the two handsome squares
in the middle of the town, and the smaller streets which cross the
principal roads at right angles. We passed a public garden, also given
by Mr. Kusnitzoff to the town. We walked there in the evening, leaving
the carriages at the gates, as did several fashionables, and found
inside a place for refreshments, rooms for cards, and a promenade. As
we strolled about among the trees and shrubs I asked how long they
had been there, and found they were self-planted, and that the garden
was an adaptation from nature. Close at hand were blacksmiths’ forges,
where they were shoeing horses in a curious manner.[6]
Before leaving our lady friends, their hospitality took a very
practical turn, as Siberian hospitality generally does, for they gave
us some excellent fresh butter and a jar of marmalade. Both these were
of great value, and I was particularly thankful to get the latter.
In order to prevent the possibility of being reduced to black bread
between Krasnoiarsk and Irkutsk, we ordered to be baked a pile, three
feet high, of large, flat, white loaves, with a little butter added to
prevent their getting dry; and these lasted us for 600 miles.
I was anxious to open at Krasnoiarsk a depôt or an agency for the sale
of the Scriptures, and, with that intent, presented an introduction
at the shop of one of the principal tradesmen. We found a large store
full of all manner of wares, among which, however, it was difficult to
see anything small that was particularly Siberian, though I bought a
string of beads, worn round the neck by Russian peasant girls, called
a _gaitan_. Unfortunately the merchant was away, and I could not hear
of another house of business suitable for what I wanted. Dr. Peacock,
however, seemed to feel so strongly the importance of making the most
of an opportunity to get the Scriptures circulated in the neighbourhood
that he purchased 250 copies, intending to dispense them far and near.
I gave him also a supply of reading matter for his hospital patients.[7]
Having thus spent four agreeable days at the capital of the Yeneseisk
province, we left on the evening of the 27th June, with a journey
before us of 600 miles to Irkutsk.[8] We met with an early adventure on
reaching the opposite bank of the river; for we had omitted to get a
special note from the post-master, without which the post-boys, waiting
with their horses, would not take us on. Mr. Interpreter, therefore, at
a cost of 8_s._, and not without danger, had to spend half the night in
recrossing the river and returning, whilst I “camped out” alone in the
tarantass on the river’s bank. I was so stiff and tired, however, with
the previous night’s journey to the gold-mine, that I slept soundly
till, at early dawn, horses were procured, and we jogged onwards.
We had now entered a land of valleys and hills instead of a country of
marshes or plains, and the scenery improved vastly. Not so, however,
the roadside fare; for milk was less abundant, and consequently we
could not so easily get curds or such diet, nor even milk to drink. But
we were so anxious to get forward that we became somewhat impatient
of the long time spent in heating the _samovar_ and preparing for a
meal. The consequence was that if, on arriving at a station, horses
were to be had at once, we did as best we could about food, eating in
the tarantass as we went along, and sometimes not having more than one
“square meal” a day.
For a time we travelled well. We continued to go up and down hills,
some of which we estimated at about 500 feet in height; and though
there was usually a sufficiency of horses, yet for the first two stages
they failed us. We paid a little more than post fares, and hired
private steeds instead. The peasants sometimes took advantage of the
occasion, when post-horses failed, to ask double fares; but as this
exorbitant demand amounted to only about 2_d._ a mile for each horse,
it seemed better to do this for a stage than to be detained, perhaps
for several hours, and then to get tired animals.
Having left Krasnoiarsk late on Friday night, we reached Kansk
in good time on Sunday morning, where we spent the rest of the
day, considerably fatigued with the combined effect of the recent
horse-riding, tarantass driving, and insufficient rest and food. Kansk
is the chief town of an _okrug_, or district, and the residence of
an intelligent _Ispravnik_; and, as it possessed a small prison and
hospital, we washed, dressed in our “Sunday best,” and called upon this
dignitary to present our letters. He told us, to our surprise, that he
had received a telegram the day before from the acting Governor-General
of Irkutsk, directing him to help us forward as much as possible;
and consequently he had sent east and west to all the stations in his
district--a distance of nearly 200 miles--telling them to let us have
horses quickly. We were rather at a loss to account for such unexpected
kindness, and the more so as the Ispravnik thought the instructions had
originally been sent from Petersburg. It served, however, to remind
us that we were not lost sight of at head-quarters. The Ispravnik
accompanied us to the prison, in which were 146 prisoners in 29
rooms, which had a Sunday look about them. Things were brushed up and
“settled,” as a housekeeper would say, and we distributed papers to
the prisoners to read. We also gave the Ispravnik some copies of the
New Testament and other reading material for the prison, for the town
hospital, and for the schools of the neighbourhood; after which he
invited us to his house to drink tea.
His wife was a German, which accounted for certain foreign tastes
visible about the room, and for some of the pictures. We learned that
the Ispravnik holds a similar position in his district or _okrug_, or
circle, that a Governor does in his province,--the pay of an Ispravnik
being from £100 to £150 per annum; that of a Governor from £600 to
£1,000 per annum; and of a Governor-General about £3,000, the latter
two having also furnished houses. The _okrug_ of Kansk was 200 miles
in diameter, and had a population of 40,000, with upwards of 900 miles
of roads. These were kept in order by 9,000 men, each of whom was
responsible for 90 fathoms of way; and it is only fair to say that we
found the roads of Yeneseisk the best in Siberia. Nearly all the crime
in the district, we were told, is traceable to drink; and that which
ended in murder commonly arose from love affairs.[9]
Prisoners of all sorts were allowed to hold correspondence with their
friends; but the prison chief, or the Ispravnik, might object to any
part of what was written, and send it back to the writer, though even
then the latter might appeal to the Governor-General. Letters usually
came, we found, by every post, so that the prisoners evidently availed
themselves to a considerable extent of their privilege.
After leaving the Ispravnik, we called on the Protopope, or head
priest of the place. His house had a superior look about it, and so
had the Protopope himself. He gave us a hearty reception, and we asked
a few questions concerning his parish. It appeared that he had 2,000
parishioners, living in Kansk and four surrounding villages. He thought
about 100 could read, and for these he very readily accepted papers
and tracts. He had an elementary boys’ school, which was supported
by the community, the scholars paying nothing. I asked about his
congregations, and found that from 300 to 400 usually came to church
on Sundays, but that on festivals the number rose to 1,000 or 1,500,
and of these about 300 or 400 in the course of the year received the
Communion.[10]
This chief pastor of the place told us he had often bestowed books on
the prisoners, but that the books had disappeared. He gave us some idea
of the desire there is for the Scriptures in remote parts of Siberia,
by saying that on one occasion he bought 200 New Testaments and took
them to Minusinsk, where he sold them in a single day at a rouble
each.[11]
In further illustration of the demand for Scriptures in this part of
the country, I may mention that, on the way from Tomsk, I made it a
practice to go into the post-stations; and whilst my companion was
arranging about the horses, I took some pamphlets and Scriptures,
and, having nailed up an illustration of the “Prodigal Son,” I next
distributed some tracts, saying, as I did so, “_darom_,” which means
“gratis”; and then, showing a New Testament, I said “_dvatzat-piat
kopeck_,” which means 25 kopecks; or I showed a copy of the Gospels,
and said “_dve-natzat kopeck_,” or 12 kopecks. Usually this offer was
jumped at; sometimes three or four were bought by one person; and it
not unfrequently happened that the first purchaser would run off to
tell others of his good fortune, and bid them lose no time in following
his example. This was usually done whilst the horses were being
changed; but if we stopped for a meal, and it was noised abroad in the
village that tracts were being given away, we were taken by storm, and
sometimes could hardly eat in peace for the numbers who came to ask for
our gifts.
We had barely reached the post-station, after seeing the priest, before
he came driving close on our heels for his return visit. He wore the
violet velvet hat of a protopope, was dressed in a black silk cassock,
with a gold chain and crucifix about his neck, and with a loose white
overcoat to protect him from the dust of the road. He cordially wished
us success in our work, and asked us to call again on our homeward
journey. We then went to the evening service in his church, after
which the Ispravnik and his wife came to return our call, bringing with
them their son, a boy of 13 years of age, who was to go to a military
school at Irkutsk. The father said that he did not like to send him
with just any one, but that he should be thankful to be allowed to
place the boy under my care, offering at the same time to pay the cost
of one horse to Irkutsk, which amounted to 25 roubles.
It is a common thing in Siberian travel, when one person does not
wish to occupy the whole of his vehicle, to share the expense with
a fellow-passenger. I therefore consented, and stowed the boy away
among the tracts and books in the second tarantass, where he seemed
happy enough. His joining us was rather a help, for his father gave
us an open letter to all the post-masters of his district, requesting
them, if there were not a sufficiency of post-horses, to hire some
immediately from the peasants. He also added a _blanco_ letter,
which enabled us, in case of need, to take those reserved at the
post-stations for the use of the Ispravnik or his police. This is
called, I believe, “_Zemski_” post, applying only to Siberia, and
the horses of which, when not wanted, are sometimes lent to private
travellers.
The combined result of these letters was that we got on famously,
and occasionally made 200 versts in the 24 hours. This for summer
travelling is good--so good, in fact, that we hardly wished to do
better, as it had now become very hot, and the dust of the way rendered
the journey very fatiguing.
We were still passing through an undulating country, with delightful
weather; on either side of the way grass, and in it grew a large yellow
flower, similar in form to our common white garden lily. On passing
the frontier from the Yeneseisk to the Irkutsk governments, it soon
became apparent that our new roads were not so good as those we had
left behind. We crossed many rivers, on the banks of one of which we
drove through an extraordinary swarm of white butterflies. The shrubs
in the neighbourhood were evidently eaten bare by their _larvæ_, the
_imagines_, or perfect insects, being assembled in troops on the
ground. We were now drawing near a district famous for a small kind of
mosquito, the bite of which is very virulent, and is so dreaded by the
people that the men working at the roadside protect themselves about
the head with horsehair veils. Another place in Siberia famous for
these insects is the Barabinsky steppe, where horses persecuted by them
sometimes break loose, and do so to certain death. We, however, were
not incommoded by them.
On the 1st of July the weather was hotter than we had hitherto
experienced it, and very oppressive, though at night it became chilly.
The greatest heat registered in the province of Irkutsk in 1877 was
during the month of August, when it rose to 90·3, the greatest cold
registered being in January, and descending to 40·2 below zero.
On the second day after leaving Kansk we were somewhat hindered by a
superabundance of fellow-travellers, with whom it was very pleasant to
chat over a cup of tea in the post-house, though matters were not quite
so smooth when it was discovered that less than the required number
of horses were forthcoming, and the question arose as to who should
be first served. At one station we had to stay five hours, yet it is
only fair to add that, thanks to our excellent recommendations, this
was the longest delay of the kind that fell to our lot. Travellers are
sometimes obliged to wait a whole day.
On the evening of the same day, at dusk, we reached Nijni Udinsk, and,
as there was a small prison in the place, I was anxious to give a few
books to the Ispravnik, and pass on without stopping; the latter,
however, was away, so we went to his assistant. After knocking pretty
lustily at his door, a servant appeared, who informed us that his
master was asleep; and to awaken a man out of sleep is in Russia no
venial sin. An Anglo-Russian friend informs me that she has frequently
been told, on asking for a servant, that he was asleep, and could not
be waked, because _a sleeping man’s soul is before his God_! We told
this servant, however, that we had a letter from Petersburg; and before
we left the town a messenger came to the post-house, giving me the
particulars I desired, and took back a sufficiency of books for the 98
prisoners under detention.
We then started off about midnight, and on the afternoon of the
following day reached a station called Telma, which in previous years
has been famous as possessing a factory in which cloth, paper, glass,
and soap were made, besides which they produced rough linen woven from
Yeneseisk hemp, and dark unbleached cloth, spun from the wool of the
Buriat sheep. The peasants generally make a rough cloth of this last
material. Manufactures do not flourish in Siberia, as the raw material
is grown at enormous distances from the establishments, and, when
manufactured, must often be taken enormous distances to be sold; so
it is found cheaper to buy the goods imported from other countries.
A suit of tweed clothes costs, I heard, £6 at Krasnoiarsk, and on the
Amur I met with a gentleman ordering his clothes from Petersburg, and
having them sent by post to Blagovestchensk, a distance of 5,000 miles.
The factory at Telma is still standing, and is not absolutely idle, but
I gathered that it is not in a flourishing condition.[12]
We were now only about 50 versts from Irkutsk, which, under ordinary
circumstances, we ought to have reached late the same night. Another
project had, however, entered into my mind. About 70 versts north
of Irkutsk is the largest prison in Eastern Siberia, called the
Alexandreffsky Central Prison, the normal way of visiting which would
have been for us to proceed to Irkutsk, present our letters, and so
drive out and return, making a journey of 90 miles. Hearing at Telma
that we could reach the place from thence in two hours by going across
country, spend two hours inspecting the prison, and another two hours
in returning to Telma, I calculated we should get back to the main
road about midnight, and so reach Irkutsk on Saturday afternoon, and
be ready for a quiet Sunday. The first difficulty in the way was that
the law permitted no post-horses to be employed off the high-roads;
but, thanks to the obliging post-master at Telma, this obstacle was
overcome by his providing others, and I determined accordingly to try
and save time by taking the prison on my way. How much was involved in
that decision I little thought at the moment, but it proved afterwards
highly important.
The first object of interest we passed was a large salt-factory, which,
like that at Telma, had in years gone by been worked by convicts
under the management of the State. This kind of labour is no longer
enforced there, and free workmen are employed instead. These were the
only salt-works we heard of in Siberia, but we were told of some about
40 miles from Orenburg, in the Urals. Leaving the factory behind, we
struck off through the woods, and were enjoying the drive thoroughly
when it occurred to our _yemstchik_ that he had taken the wrong
direction. Accordingly, he went a long way back, but had to retrace his
steps. This caused considerable delay, as did the crossing of the river
Angara. At length, through a forest of pine, we reached the summit of
a hill, and were able to take in at a glance the surroundings of the
large prison, which we reached at dusk. On the road we met some Polish
ladies, wives of officials, to whom I explained in French our object in
coming. The Director, however, was gone to Irkutsk, and his deputy said
it was too late that night, but that we might inspect the prison as
early as we chose in the morning. I therefore named the hour of seven,
and went to the post-house to sleep.
The keepers of the post-house in this out-of-the-way place appeared
somewhat perturbed at the arrival of visitors who wished to spend the
night under their roof. However, in this matter Siberian post-masters
have no choice, for they are bound to find accommodation for
travellers, and may not charge them for it; their profits are the small
sums paid for the use of the _samovar_, and for such refreshments as
may be provided. Our quarters were better and more comfortable than
usual, as also was our supper, and we lay down for a quiet night. Early
in the morning the officer in charge of the prison came to say that
when he had made us the promise on the previous evening he had intended
to telegraph to Irkutsk for permission, but that there was a fire in
Irkutsk, and telegraphic communication was stopped. He must therefore
ask us to wait until the return of the chief, who was expected hourly.
Accordingly, on his arrival we were conducted to the house of the
Director; and though he had been travelling all night he received us at
once, accorded us a hearty reception, and introduced us to his wife and
friends. He was a Pole--by name Pavolo Schwekofsky--and his house was
elegantly furnished, all his servants, however, being convicts. There
was an appearance of comfort, not to say of luxury, about the place;
and he had in a side room a turning-lathe and English tools. To this
we called attention. “Ah, yes,” said he, “we could not do without the
English.” And then, after drinking a glass of tea, we started to see
the prison.
[Illustration: THE ALEXANDREFFSKY CENTRAL PRISON NEAR IRKUTSK.]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Owing to the formation of the hills about the town, Krasnoiarsk is
more than ordinarily favoured with abundance of wind, which in winter
blows the snow off the ground and stops sledging. One night during our
stay it rained, and the streets were in a condition next morning such
as I have never seen before or since. To speak of “puddles” would be
a mockery, and “ponds” is barely the word to use; whilst to cross the
street was to run imminent risk of losing one’s boots. Fortunately,
however, there were droshkies at hand, and in these we waded through
water nearly up to the horses’ knees.
[2] We saw beggars here and at Tomsk, but I do not recollect that they
were numerous or particularly importunate. The Russians are, however,
in this sense, very charitable. It is customary not only to give a
few kopecks to such as these, but also to the old men posted at the
entrances of the villages, who have charge of the gates placed across
the roads to keep cattle from straying in or out.
[3] It was one of the _perisylnie_ character, having 46 wards, and a
hospital with sixteen rooms. There were 26 murderers in the place, and
the number of persons committing this crime yearly in the district
seemed to me, from the round numbers they gave, to be very high. The
sentences of murderers, they said, varied from five or six to 20 years’
hard labour, after which time they were free as exiles. The general
arrangements of the prison appeared to be fairly good. I thought it
clean and well ordered; and we were struck, in the bake-house, with the
enormous size of their loaves of bread, some of them weighing from 40
to 50 lbs.
[4] In the Tomsk hospital we had seen two persons mad from the effects
of alcoholic drink; and I was sorry to hear it asserted afterwards,
by a Russian medical man, that the proportion of those in Siberia who
went mad from _delirium tremens_ was greater than in England; and he
further remarked of his countrymen, that though for a long time they
indulge in no intoxicating liquor, yet when they once drink they do so
furiously. A friend of mine had more than one man-servant who acted in
this manner. They did _not_ drink for months, and then all of a sudden
did so without ceasing, and would be mad drunk for a week or ten days.
At last, exhausted, they slept for a day or two, and woke up abashed,
promising to do so no more; but, alas! it was only till the next time.
[5] It is the same, I suspect, as that mentioned by Mr. Hill in his
“Travels in Siberia,” 30 years ago, the dimensions of which he gives as
131 feet long by 98 broad and 52 high. It is of two storeys, and in Mr.
Hill’s time was furnished after the most elegant mode of Petersburg.
The articles brought from that capital alone cost its owner from £6,000
to £7,000.
[6] Outside the smithy stood four stout posts, fixed in the ground at
the four corners, as it were, of an oblong figure, which posts were
connected at the top by cross-pieces. Into the midst of these the
horse was led. Girths were then put under him by which he could be all
but lifted off the ground, suspended to the cross-beams. To prevent
his kicking unadvisedly, two of his legs were bound with rope to the
nearest of the posts; and thus rendered helpless, and standing on
tiptoe with his remaining legs he was shod. They said that Siberian
horses are too wild to allow of their being treated in English fashion,
and it may be so, but the animals seemed to be equally averse to the
other plan.
[7] The Governor was away, but the Vice-Governor informed us that there
were six prisons in the province, for which we left him upwards of 200
New Testaments and Scripture portions, and about the same number of
tracts, papers, and broad-sheets. We subsequently saw the Governor at
Irkutsk, and I have since heard from him that these Scriptures, etc.,
have been distributed as I wished, as also a further quantity I left
with him to be forwarded to the prisons and hospitals of the immense
province of Yakutsk.
[8] Since this chapter was written, Krasnoiarsk has been almost
entirely destroyed by fire.
[9] The statistics of crime in the _okrug_, in the year 1878, revealed
that, of 182 criminals, not one was less than 17 years of age; 26
men and 5 women were between 17 and 21; but the greatest number of
criminals--63 men and 20 women.--were of ages ranging from 21 to 33;
after which the numbers of men became fewer as they grew older, but
there was not a similar decrease in the number of older women. Below
the ages of 45 and 70 there were more women criminals than men. It
appeared, too, that there were 129 married criminals as against 53
unmarried. Again, 112 were of the Russian Church, 19 of other Christian
denominations, 34 were Jews, and 17 of other non-Christian religions.
Further, 157 were criminals for the first offence, 22 for the same
offence once repeated, and 3 for the same offence twice repeated. This
last fact compares favourably with our English criminal statistics,
which show many who go in and out of prison a hundred times. I have
spoken elsewhere of the long-period prisoners having sometimes to wait
in durance for their trial. This may often be avoided by furnishing
bail. In 1878 there were in Kansk 415 on bail as against 96 under
detention. Of these, 88 were found innocent, 93 were dismissed as
“not proven,” and 147 sent elsewhere for trial; whilst of those found
guilty, 7 only were condemned to the mines, 26 to hard labour in
prison, and the remaining 149 to a “house of detention.”
[10] A lady on the Obi told me that all were bound to confess and
receive the Communion once a year. If any special reason required it,
they might receive oftener, always confessing, however, beforehand,
in a standing posture at the side of the priest, and then kneeling at
the absolution. The priest said that 200 times in the year, at Kansk,
children were participants in the sacred rite; and in connection with
this remark he made a curious statement, to the effect that, there
being few doctors in the district, it was common for mothers, when
their babies were ill, to bring them to receive the Sacrament, under
the impression that it did them physical as well as spiritual good. He
said, too, that mothers thought it their duty to bring their children
frequently to Communion till they were seven years of age, after which
period they came with them once a year for confession, communion, and
instruction.
[11] This compared favourably with the sales at the Bible Society’s
depôt at Tomsk, which is the only one in Siberia, though I had hoped
to be able to establish others at Tobolsk, Omsk, Krasnoiarsk, and
especially Irkutsk. The depôt at Tomsk had been opened about three
years, the annual sales having amounted to about 300 Bibles, 200
New Testaments, and 500 copies of the four Gospels in Sclavonic and
Russian. They had also sold a few Hebrew Bibles and the Psalms, the
latter chiefly in Sclavonic. The Protopope said he would gladly become
a depositary for the Bible Society; and would purchase at once 50
copies from me of the New Testament, but Kansk had not been mentioned
as one of the places at which a depôt was desired. Moreover, I had
been instructed, in opening a depôt, to require the depositary to sign
an agreement to abide by certain terms, after which I might take an
order to the value of £30. But I did not gather that our friend wished
altogether to turn merchant; and therefore I thought it better to let
him have the 50 copies out of hand, rather than to put him into more
complicated mercantile transactions with Petersburg.
[12] Manufacturing industry, properly speaking, has no real importance
in Siberia, except in distilling from grain and potatoes the alcohol
which is sold in numberless taverns. Reckoning factories and
distilleries together, there were, in 1876, according to Réclus, 1,100
factories and 4,000 workmen, which produced manufactures to the value
of £800,000.