Journey in a Tarantasse--Monotony of Scenery--Description of
Population in Russia--The Mujicks or Peasants--Their Habitations and
Mode of Life--The Religion of Russia--The Priests--The Landed
Proprietors and their Habits and Characteristics--Civil Officers of
Government--The Army and its Organisation--Russian Officers--A
Breakdown--A Russian Inn--The City of Vladimir--Nishni-Novogorood--Its
Great Fair--Addressed by a Stranger--His Mysterious Conduct.
Away rattled the tarantasse, with our travellers inside, through the
gates of the Holy City of Moscow towards the town of Nishni-Novogorood,
where the great annual fair of Russia was then taking place. The rough
vehicle bumped and thumped and jumbled along at a rapid rate over the
uneven road, in a way to try the nerves and bones and tempers of those
inside; but none of the tumblifications they endured had the effect of
disturbing the equanimity of their tempers, or of dislocating their
joints, each bump of unusual violence only making them laugh more
heartily than ever. Once clear of Moscow, the road was tolerably smooth
in most places, and the body of the carriage moved easily along between
the two long poles to which it was slung. Such is the principle of the
tarantasse. The body of the carriage may be of any form or size. It
may have come out of Long Acre, or it may be a little waggon covered in
with a tarpaulin. The important part is formed of the strongest and
roughest materials, so that it is not likely to break, or, if it does,
any peasant on the road can mend it. Cousin Giles had hired one of the
common sort. It was, in truth, a little waggon with a tilt over it, and
made very comfortable with a good supply of straw and leather cushions,
for which the Russians are famous. All travellers carry them. They
serve for their seats by day and their couches by night. Our friends
had brought a supply of provisions with them, so that they were entirely
independent of inns, which are very bad throughout the country.
The party in the tarantasse consisted of Cousin Giles and his two young
friends, of Mr Allwick, their interpreter, and of Mr Evergreen, who
had begged leave to join them. Cousin Giles would rather have had a
more sensible companion; but he was so good-natured and so ready to
sacrifice his own convenience to that of others, while his quaint and
simple observations afforded so much amusement, that he was more
desirable than many persons with superior pretensions.
The road was very unpicturesque, running chiefly between forests of
birch and fir-trees, with few or no hills to vary its monotony. The
journey, however, was far from uninteresting. They passed various
parties of traders with their waggons going to the fair; also a group of
exiles on their way to Siberia, already weary and footsore, though they
had performed but a short portion of their long journey. There were
woodcutters in the forests, and peasants in the few patches of
cultivated ground which here and there appeared. Mr Allwick, too, had
travelled over the greater part of Russia, and gave them much
information about the country.
"I divide the population of Russia into five classes," said he, "with
the Czar, forming a sixth, at their head. First come the _mujicks_ or
peasants, who form the great mass of the population; then come the
_svestchenniks_ or priests, who are mostly sprung from them, and are
often looked upon as but slightly their superiors; the third class are
the _pameshtchiks_, the landed proprietors and serf owners. In the
fourth class may be included the _chinovinks_ or civil functionaries;
and the _grajdanuns_ or citizens; while in the fifth may be reckoned the
military of all ranks.
"Of the mujicks or peasants, upwards of two-thirds are serfs or slaves.
The other portion have either purchased their liberty or have been
liberated by their masters. They are completely under the control of
their masters, who can flog them or imprison them, but may not take away
their lives nor remove them from the land on which they were born. An
owner may, however, let his serf out to some other master for hire. The
greater number of servants in Saint Petersburg and Moscow are serfs
belonging to landed proprietors, who receive a part of their wages.
Many serfs follow trades, and some have become wealthy merchants. Some
have purchased their freedom for large sums, but in other instances
masters have refused to grant their serfs their freedom, who thus,
though rolling in riches, remain with the chains of slavery round their
necks, liable at any moment to be called back and compelled to do their
lord's bidding, even in the most menial capacity. They have the general
faults of slaves, being cringing, cunning, and delighting in falsehood;
but they are intelligent, kind-hearted, and merry, and honest when
property is entrusted to their charge. Their dress consists of a cap, a
long sheepskin coat in winter, and a cotton one in summer, a red-striped
shirt, worn outside their very full breeches, and high leather boots on
grand occasions; but usually they wear on their feet willow or
birch-bark sandals, their legs being swathed in rags of all sorts. A
vest and sash of some gay colour is also worn; so that altogether their
costume is picturesque, though much less so than that of Swiss or
Spanish peasants. Their cottages are built of logs of pine, laid one
above the other, the ends being notched to fit into each other, exactly
like the log-huts of Canada, and having always a porch in front. They
are roofed with straw. They contain two apartments, with a huge stove
of brick built into the dividing wall. In each room there is a very
small window. In a conspicuous place is seen the picture of the saint
worshipped by the family, hung against the wall, sometimes glazed, and
always having a lamp burning before it. The first act of each person
who enters the cottage is to salute the image; indeed, the same
veneration is paid to it as was paid to the household gods of the
ancients. The temperature of these abodes ranges, both in summer and
winter, from 70 degrees to 80 degrees. They are lighted at night by a
pine stick stuck into the wall. As the interstices between the logs are
filled up with hemp and other combustible materials, fires are very
common, and whole villages are frequently burnt down. In order to
extinguish these conflagrations, each serf is bound to bring some
particular implement--a ladder, a pail, or an axe; and, that he may not
forget his duty, the implement he is charged to bring is painted on the
board with his name, which is placed in front of his hut. Thus, as soon
as the signal is given that a fire has broken out, so many serfs rush
forth with ladders, so many with pails, and so many with axes, towards
the scene of conflagration.
"The serfs on an estate are allowed a certain portion of ground and
materials for building their cottages. They labour three days in the
week for their owners, and three days for themselves; so that, when the
soil is good, they can easily provide themselves with the necessaries of
life. But, at the same time, they are entirely in the power of unjust
stewards or cruel masters, who can make their lives miserable, and
quickly bring them to ruin. It must be owned that when serfs are well
managed they are often contented and happy, and have no wish for
freedom.
"Some proprietors are anxious to free their serfs, so as to be able to
move them from one estate to another, or to get rid altogether of the
charge of keeping them. The well-known Count Sheremetieff, however, who
owns some of the richest merchants and shopkeepers in Saint Petersburg,
will not consent to emancipate any one of them, although some have
offered him large sums for their freedom. He is content with a small
annual payment as tribute. When he dies, however, if his successor is
avaricious, their condition may be very much changed.
"The Greek is the Established Church of Russia. The priests are as a
class illiterate, and but little removed above the mujicks in their
habits of life. A priest is expected to marry, but can only marry one
wife. When she dies, he enters the monastic order. His sons enter the
clerical seminaries, and his daughters marry priests, while another
takes his vicarage. When a priest dies, or becomes a widower, and
leaves a grown-up daughter, the living is generally given to some
candidate for holy orders who pleases the young lady, and who is willing
to marry her. Thus the clergy have become almost a separate class, the
office descending from father to son. The value of livings is very
small, seldom surpassing 15 pounds per annum. The priests are in
general held in very little respect by all classes, even by the
peasants, who, however, kiss their hands when they meet them, and often
have a feeling of regard for them. There are numerous dissenters, who
are frequently treated with the most bitter persecution by the orthodox
Church.
"The _Pameshtchiks_ or landed proprietors may be divided into two
classes,--those who have vast estates, and, honoured by titles, live
chiefly at courts, while they commit their affairs to the charge of
stewards; and those who reside on their property and look after it
themselves. The former are generally polished in their manners,
well-informed, and luxurious in their habits, and are courtiers,
diplomatists, or naval or military commanders. Though they occasionally
visit their estates, when they keep up considerable pomp and ceremony,
they reside chiefly in the capital.
"The landlord who lives entirely on his property is of a very different
character, and thoroughly unlike an old English gentleman of the same
social rank. Supremely indolent and unintellectual, he thinks of
nothing but how he can most easily kill time. When he awakes in the
morning, his attendant slave brings him his pipe, and he smokes till his
first meal of tea and rusks is prepared; his bailiff then comes and
makes his daily report, and serves as a vent for his ill-humour. Then
he eats a substantial and somewhat greasy meal, which enables him to
exist while he takes a drive round his estate till dinner-time. That
meal is even more coarse and greasy than the former one. He then sleeps
for a couple of hours, smokes, plays at cards, sups, and goes to bed,--
not a satisfactory way for a person with a soul to spend his time. His
wife spends her day much in the same way, smoking paper cigarettes
instead of a pipe, and managing the female domestic serfs instead of the
men. All matrimonial affairs come under the cognisance of the
_Pameshtchik_, as no serf can marry without his permission. This,
however, is rarely withheld, as it is his interest to have as large a
number of people as possible beneath his rule.
"Owners often treat their serfs kindly, and make their lives happy, but
a capricious or tyrannical master has the power of rendering every
person on his estate miserable.
"The above description refers to the Russian landowners as a class.
There are undoubtedly exceptions, and many very excellent, intelligent
men may be found, who, living entirely on their property, devote
themselves to its improvement, and to the amelioration of the condition
of those who have been placed in dependence on them.
"The worst class in Russia are the Tchinovniks, or those employed in the
civil service of the Government, of all grades, from the highest to the
lowest. They are badly paid, and thus indemnify themselves by every
description of peculation, and by endeavouring to wring bribes out of
all with whom they come in contact. The Emperors have at times
endeavoured to alter the system, but, although they have punished
delinquents, when discovered, with the greatest severity, they have
failed to put a stop to the evil.
"The mercantile class are considered generally respectable. No person
can trade unless he is a member of one of three guilds. The privileges
belonging to the first guild are purchased by an annual tax, calculated
on the declared capital, but which cannot be less than 150; and those of
the other guilds by sums in proportion to the smaller facilities for
trading which they afford.
"The Russians are certainly not a warlike race, though their governors
have endeavoured to make them so. The conscription presses most cruelly
on the peasants, and it is with the most painful reluctance that its
summons is obeyed. When they join, the officers may ill-treat them,
pull their hair, and strike them with impunity. The officers have
generally a fair supply of professional knowledge, and some are highly
educated. The men have a larger amount of passive courage than of
dashing bravery; yet they will usually follow where their officers lead
them. The private has a possibility of rising to the rank of an officer
after twelve years' probation, and even sooner by some dashing act of
bravery; and several even thus have become generals. There are numerous
military colleges in which cadets are educated, but a commission may
also be obtained by a youth of family by his serving two years in the
ranks. No officer may appear on any occasion without his uniform, nor
carry an umbrella. The cadets are exercised during the summer in camps,
as, indeed, is the greater part of the army, to prepare them for actual
warfare."
Mr Allwick had got thus far in his description of the people of Russia,
when, as the horses were galloping along at a great rate, a crash was
heard, and over went the carriage on its side;--one of the long poles of
the tarantasse had broken. The travellers got out in dismay, not
knowing how long this accident might delay them. As they looked out
they saw some cottages ahead. A peasant standing at the door of one of
them had observed the occurrence, and now came running up with his axe
in his hand to ascertain the amount of the damage. Two or three other
men followed. "Oh, it is nothing," said they; "we will soon put this
all right." They were as good as their word. While the travellers
stood at the roadside watching what they would do, they disappeared into
the forest, out of which they speedily issued with a young fir-tree,
which in an incredibly short space of time they stripped of its bark and
fitted to the carriage. A rouble amply satisfied them for their
trouble. They were merry fellows, evidently, for they laughed and joked
or sung all the time they were at work, so that Fred and Harry were
quite sorry that they could not understand what they were saying. The
tarantasse was soon moving on as before. In the evening they stopped at
a place with a name too difficult to pronounce, to take tea. The inn
was an unclean, straggling-looking mansion, with a long whitewashed
corridor, and whitewashed rooms, very scantily furnished, opening out of
it. The whole place was redolent of an odour which appears to be a
mixture of vodka, onions, or rather garlic, and stale tobacco smoke. No
house in Russia seems to be without it, of high or low degree, its
intensity only being greater in those of the lower orders. Evergreen
complained bitterly of it. His consumption of _eau-de-Cologne_ was
doubled, he said, and he declared that it alone would prevent him from
ever willingly taking up his abode in Russia, irrespective of his
dislike to the despotic system of government under which it was placed.
The travellers were ushered by a waiter into a room with a
straight-backed, leather-covered sofa, chairs with wooden seats, and an
old card-table; while the walls were ornamented with some coloured
prints of battles between the Circassians and Russians, in which a host
of the mountaineers were flying before a handful of their enemies. The
waiter would have astonished one of his brethren in England; for he wore
jack-boots, into which were tucked his full Oriental breeches, a pink
shirt, showing the tail outside, and a dirty, collarless, long coat,
like a dressing-gown, fastened round his waist by a sash. "_Tchai_,
_tchai_!" (tea, tea!), exclaimed Cousin Giles with as much dignity as
if he was thorough master of the Russian language. "_Si chasse, si
chasse_," replied the jack-booted waiter, meaning thereby that he would
bring it as suited his convenience. Mr Allwick, however, added a few
persuasive words, and in a short time the hissing _samovar_ made its
appearance, with a teapot and cups. The tea, which would anywhere be
considered excellent, the travellers had brought with them. The
principle of the _samovar_ is very simple. In the centre of a
common-shaped urn there is a cylinder with a grating at the bottom of
it. The urn is filled with water, and the cylinder with charcoal. A
brass chimney fits on to the top of the cylinder. A light is then
applied to the lower end, which soon ignites the charcoal from the
bottom to the top, and boils the water in three or four minutes. A
frame fixes on to the top of the cylinder, on which the teapot is placed
to keep it warm. There is a damper or cap, which can be placed on the
top of the cylinder when it is required to put out the fire. There is
no more convenient machine for travellers, as breakfast can thus be
prepared in a very few minutes. A sum amounting to little more than a
shilling was paid for the accommodation thus afforded. For a less sum
they might have slept all night, but then they would have had to wrap
themselves up in their cloaks and pick out a soft plank on the floor.
In an hour fresh horses were procured, and once more the tarantasse was
rattling along the road. About twenty-four hours after leaving Moscow,
the travellers reached the ancient city of Vladimir, with the Golden
Gate. It was once upon a time the capital of the Empire, and is still a
city of considerable size. It is picturesquely situated on a hill, on
which stand about twenty churches, overlooking a wide extent of wooded
country, with a magnificent river flowing through it. The Golden Gate,
which still rises in dignified solitude, a proud monument of the past,
is not an ungraceful building. It is no longer used as a gate.
The temptations held out by the hotel here did not induce our travellers
to stop, but, ordering fresh horses, they pushed on towards Nishni.
They were now entering a fertile tract of country; but, fertile as it
is, the population is not more dense than that of the most barren
districts of Scotland. Mile after mile of thick forest was passed
through, varied occasionally, as they approached the river Okka, by
large villages. These villages have a strong similarity to each other,
the houses being built of logs, and the gable-ends being turned to the
road, and being inhabited by people with a very great likeness to each
other. At length the town of Nishni-Novogorood appeared before them.
At most times of the year it contains but few inhabitants. It was now
crowded by persons from all parts of Russia and the provinces to the
south and east, who had assembled to dispose of the produce of their
respective districts, or to make purchases for exportation. Here
assemble merchants from all parts of Siberia, Tartars, Georgians,
Persians, and Armenians, to meet Russians and Germans, and even English
and French, from Saint Petersburg and Moscow, who come to buy their
produce or exchange them for manufactures from the West. Nishni stands
on a high promontory, whose base is washed on one side by the Volga, on
the other by its tributary the Okka. The Kremlin, or Citadel, with its
low, embattled walls, stands on the highest point, and overlooks a vast
plain, through which, at the base of the hill, the Volga flows proudly
past. On this plain, close to the banks of the river, was a whole city
of booths of various styles of architecture--those for the tea merchants
being in the shape of pagodas. Some of the booths are of considerable
size, being, in fact, storehouses for a large amount of valuable
merchandise. One of the most conspicuous buildings in this quarter is a
mosque, whose tall, pointed spire, surmounted by a glittering crescent,
towers above all others. This mosque is said to be the most northern
Mohammedan temple, with the exception of the humble little structure at
Moscow.
Our friends found the hotel in the upper part of the town far more
comfortable than they expected. The rooms and beds were tolerably
clean, and the eatables contained no larger amount of grease and garlic
than might reasonably be expected. Having refreshed themselves with a
quantity of fresh-water, which somewhat astonished the Russian
attendants, and partaken of a substantial meal, they sallied forth to
visit the fair. Mr Allwick, who had been there before, acted as their
guide. The upper part of the town presented no unusual bustle, but as
they descended to the plain they found themselves among dense crowds of
human beings in every variety of costume. Long-coated, long-bearded,
and high-booted Russians predominated. By listening attentively, our
friends thought they could distinguish very many different languages and
dialects; and all were speaking in an earnest, energetic way, showing
that they had met for business, and not for pleasure. There was, in
truth, no gaiety either in their manner or their costume; for their
dresses also were of somewhat grave, sombre colours, though here and
there gay sashes, or caps, or vests, or turbans were to be seen. They
walked up and down the long lanes of booths, in which the traders sat in
state ready to dispose of their merchandise. But the more interesting
part of their employment was the visit they paid to the various
storehouses. In some were packages upon packages of tea, done up in
skins, in which mode it is brought all the way from China by caravans;
in another were piles of hides, in another heaps of dressed leather, in
another bales of hemp and wool, brought by the Volga and its tributaries
from far-off regions. There were also less bulky manufactured
articles--leather work and embroidery, slippers and belts, from Kazan,
shawls and cloths from Persia, and saddles from Tartary; indeed, it
would be difficult to name one-half of the articles exposed for sale.
There were no means of amusement, such as are to be seen at an English
or German fair. No jugglers, or actors, or roundabouts, or swings,
though there were eating and drinking booths in abundance, where the
buyers and sellers and carriers might refresh themselves after the toils
of the day. The mighty Volga, even here a fine river, presented an
interesting scene. It was covered with a great variety of boats, some
of considerable size, which had brought to market the produce enumerated
above, and were ready to carry off what was taken in exchange for it.
There were steamers also, some going much above Nishni, and others
navigating from thence its whole length to its mouth.
While the travellers had been moving about the fair, Cousin Giles, who
had a great facility for remembering countenances, had observed a man in
the costume of a mujick continually following them. His dress was dusty
and travel-stained, but it was neither torn nor patched, nor had he the
appearance of a poor man. His countenance was frank, open, and
pleasant, though grave and somewhat careworn, so that it did not appear
to Cousin Giles that he had any sinister motive for his conduct. Our
friends were so much interested with all they saw, that quick-gathering
darkness alone reminded them that it was time to return to their hotel.
They had even then seen but a very small portion of the fair. Cousin
Giles had before this lost sight of the mujick. They were on their way
to the upper town, and were passing through a street, if so it might be
called, with high walls on either side, when, coming from under a dark
archway, the mujick presented himself before them.
He walked up at once to Cousin Giles, and took his hand, which he
pressed to his lips, and then spoke several sentences in a low, earnest
tone; but as the language was Russian, Cousin Giles could not understand
a word. Mr Allwick, however, came up to interpret.
"He tells you," said he, "that he knows some of our countrymen; that he
has always found them honourable, kind, and religious, and able to
sympathise with the afflicted; and that, after watching you, he feels
that he may put perfect confidence in you and your companions."
"What does he want us to do?" asked Cousin Giles. "I shall be very
happy to assist the poor man if a few roubles will be of consequence to
him; but I do not see how otherwise I can help him."
"He says that, if you will let him call on you at the hotel in a short
time, he will tell you what he has got to say, but that now he dare not
remain longer talking to you, lest he should be observed. He says that
he will not appear as he now does, and he hopes you will allow whoever
asks for you to be admitted," replied Mr Allwick.
"Very mysterious," said Cousin Giles. "It may perhaps be a device of
the police to entrap us."
"I do not think that, sir," replied Mr Allwick. "The man is, I
believe, honest; at the same time I cannot advise you to have anything
to do with him. In this country one cannot be too wary. With the best
of intentions, we may easily be brought into trouble."
"Very shocking, indeed, to be taken up and sent off to Siberia,"
observed Mr Evergreen. "Tell the good man that I will give him ten
roubles if that will help him, but that I do not want to see his face
again--in case of accident, you know. Tell him that."
"It is not pecuniary assistance that he requires," said Mr Allwick, who
had again been speaking with the stranger. "He says that he will
explain everything by and by if he is allowed to visit us. He throws
himself on our charity. He thinks the risk to us will be slight, and
the gain to him great. He entreats that you will give him a reply, for
he dare not remain longer."
Mr Evergreen's curiosity was aroused, and he forgot his fears. After
consulting a minute, Cousin Giles replied: "Tell him that I will see him
if he thinks fit to call, but I cannot promise to help him."
Mr Allwick translated what had been said into Russian, and the
stranger, bowing low, retired into the retreat from which he had come
forth, while the travellers returned to their inn.