Travels in the Steppes of the Caspian Sea, the Crimea, the Caucasus Part 3

Otchakof was founded at the close of the fifteenth century, by Mengli Chere, khan of the Crimea, on the ruins of Alektor, a little town belonging to a queen of the Sauromatians, and which was destroyed probably by the Getae at the same time as Olvia, 100 B.C.

Alektor must have possessed specimens of Greek workmans.h.i.+p, but they disappeared under the hands of the Turks, who employed them in building Otchakov.

Kherson, where we arrived in the evening, retains no relics of its ancient opulence, or of the importance it derived scarcely fifty years ago from its commerce, its port, and its admiralty; at present, it exhibits the melancholy spectacle of a town entirely ruined; its population does not exceed 6000 or 8000 souls. Odessa and Nicolaef have dealt it mortal blows, and it now subsists only by its entrepot for the various productions of the empire, which are conveyed to it by the Dniepr, and forwarded by lighters to Odessa. It has even lost its custom-house for imports, retaining only the privilege of exporting; and beside this, the vessels which take in cargo at Kherson, must first perform quarantine in Odessa. Fevers and the Jews are likewise formidable foes to its prosperity. Expelled from Nicolaef and Sevastopol, the Israelites swarm like locusts in Kherson, and form almost its whole population. Nothing can be more hideous than the appearance of the Russian Jews. Dressed in a uniform garb, consisting of a long robe of black calico, fastened with a woollen girdle, canva.s.s drawers, and a broad-brimmed black hat, they all present so degraded a type of humanity, that the eye turns from them with deep disgust. Their filthiness is indescribable; the entrance of a single Jew into an apartment is enough suddenly to vitiate the atmosphere.

We had already had occasion in Odessa to see into what an abject state this people is fallen in Russia; but it was not until we came to Kherson that we beheld them in all their vileness. What a contrast between their sallow faces, disgusting beards, and straggling locks, plastered flat on the skin, their brutified air, and crawling humility, and the easy, dignified bearing, the n.o.ble features, and the elegant costume of the Jews of Constantinople! It is impossible to bring oneself to believe there is any thing in common between them, that they belong to the same race, and have the same rules and usages, the same language and religion. But the cause which has produced such a difference between two branches of one people, is a question involving political and philosophical considerations of too high an order, to be discussed here; all we can say, is that, in seeing the Jews of Kherson, and comparing them with their brethren of the East, we had evidence before us of the depth to which governments and inst.i.tutions can debase mankind.

The streets of Kherson are thronged with these miserable Israelites, who carry on every kind of trade, and recoil from no species of occupation, provided it be lucrative. Their penury is so great, that they will run from one end of the town to the other for a few kopeks, and in this respect they are of much use to the stranger, who would be greatly embarra.s.sed if they were not at hand, ready to render him every possible service. The moment a traveller arrives at an inn, in New Russia, he is beset and persecuted without ceasing by these officious agents, who place at his disposal their goods, their persons, all they have and all they have not. It is to no purpose he threatens them and turns them out a hundred times; they care little for abuse; and do what you will, they sit themselves down on the ground opposite your door, and remain there with imperturbable phlegm, waiting their opportunity to walk in again, and renew their offer. Many a time have we seen Jews thus spend four or five hours consecutively, without evincing the least impatience, or seeming to regret the waste of time they might have employed more profitably, and go away at last satisfied with having gained a few kopeks.

It was in the government of Kherson that the plan of forming Jewish colonies was first tried. Several were established in the districts of Kherson and Bobrinetz, and in 1824 these contained nine villages, with a population of 8000 souls, settled on 55,333 _hectares_ of land. All the new colonists are wholly exempt from taxation for ten years; but after the lapse of that time, they are placed on the same footing as the other crown peasants, except that they remain free from military service for fifty years.

The colonisation of these Jews was no easy matter; at first, it was necessary to keep the most rigorous watch over them, to prevent them from leaving their villages. The colonists are all dependent on the governor-general of New Russia, and each of their villages is under the control of a non-commissioned officer of the army. I have not the least idea of the object for which the government founded these colonies, which, as far as agriculture is concerned, can be of no use to the country. Was its motive one of a philanthropic kind? I do not think so.

I should rather suspect that the prospective advantages in a military point of view may have been the inducement, an opinion, which seems justified by the fact, that the Russian government has found it necessary, for some years past, to enrol the Jews by force in the naval service. The unfortunate men are chiefly employed as workmen, and I have seen great numbers of them in the a.r.s.enals of Sevastopol and Nicolaef.

The aspect of Kherson is as dismal as that of Nicolaef is brilliant and lively. Nothing is to be seen but dilapidated houses and abandoned sites, which give it the appearance of a town devastated by war. But viewing it from a distance, as it rises in an amphitheatre on the banks of the Dniepr, with its numerous belfries, its barracks, and its gardens, one would be far from suspecting the sort of spectacle its interior presents. Above all, one cannot conceive why a town in such a position, with a river close at hand, navigable for s.h.i.+ps of war, should have been thus abandoned; but such has been the imperial will, and Kherson, completely sacrificed to Odessa, now shows scarcely any signs of life, excepting its great wool was.h.i.+ng establishments, which employ hundreds of workmen, and its retail trade, which the Jews monopolise.

The only remains of its past greatness the town has preserved, are its t.i.tle as capital of the government, and its tribunals. The governor resides in it, no doubt much against his will; but many great families have forsaken it on account of the fevers prevailing in it during a part of the year, with more fatal violence than in any other region. They are occasioned by the wide sheets of water left behind by the inundations of the Dniepr, and which, finding no issue when the river returns to its bed, stagnate among the reeds, until the rays of the sun are strong enough to make them evaporate. Fetid and pestilential exhalations then rise, and produce malignant and typhoid fevers that almost always prove mortal.

The population of Kherson, like that of all the other towns in Southern Russia, is a medley of Jews, Armenians, Russians, Greeks, Italians, &c.; a few French have been long settled there, and have acquired some wealth; some deal in wood, others are at the head of the wool-was.h.i.+ng establishments I have already mentioned. Among the latter, there is a Parisian, who, by dint of was.h.i.+ng and rewas.h.i.+ng wool, and that too on another's account, has managed to ama.s.s nearly 12,000_l._ in less than eight years. The _lavoirs_ of MM. Va.s.sal and Potier are the most considerable in Kherson, giving daily employment to more than 600 men.

The Dniepr seen from Kherson, resembles a vast lake studded with islands; the views it presents are very beautiful, and partake very much of the character of maritime scenery. The estate we were going to lay on the other side of the river, and we had the pleasure of travelling about fifteen versts by water, through the labyrinth of islands, and a constant succession of the most enchanting views. We found horses waiting for us on the opposite bank, and in less than four hours we were at Clarofka, our journey's end.

M. Potier, the proprietor of Clarofka, is an ex-pupil of the Polytechnic School, who was sent to St. Petersburg by Napoleon, with three colleagues, to establish a school of civil engineering. In 1812, the government fearing lest they should join the French, sent them away to the confines of China, where they were detained more than two years.

When our troops had evacuated Russia, and the presence of these young men was no longer to be feared, the Emperor Alexander recalled them, and gave them each a pension of 6000 rubles, to indemnify them for their exile. From that time forth, they all made rapid progress in fortune and in honours. M. Potier was for a long while director of the civil engineering inst.i.tution. He is highly esteemed by the Emperor Nicholas, who wished to attach him completely to his court, by conferring on him a post of the highest importance, but M. Potier always refused, and at last succeeded in obtaining permission to retire. He is the son-in-law of M. Rouvier, who made himself popular in Russia and even in France, by being the first to introduce the breed of Merino sheep into Southern Russia. M. Potier followed his father-in-law's example, and has more than 20,000 sheep on his estate.

The estate of M. Va.s.sal, another son-in-law and successor of M. Rouvier, is but a dozen versts from Clarofka. It is larger than many a German duchy; but instead of the fertile fields and thriving villages that adorn Germany, it presents to view only a vast desert with numerous tumuli, salt lakes, and a few sheep folds. These tumuli exact models of mole-hills, from ten to fifteen yards high, are the only hills in the country, and appear to be the burial-places of its old masters, the Scythians. Several of them have been opened, and nothing found in them but some bones, copper coins of the kings of Bosphorus, and coa.r.s.e earthen utensils. Similar tombs in the Crimea have been found to contain objects of more value, both as regards material and workmans.h.i.+p. This difference is easily accounted for; the Milesian colonies that occupied part of the Crimea 200 years ago, spread a taste for opulence and the fine arts all through the peninsula; their tombs would, therefore, bear token of the degree of civilisation they had reached. They had a regular government, princes, and all the elements and accessories of a kingdom; whilst our poor Scythians, divided into nomade tribes like the Kirghises and Kalmucks of the present day, led a rude life in the midst of the herds of cattle that const.i.tuted their sole wealth.

Agriculture could never have yielded much in these steppes, where rain is extremely rare in summer, where there are neither brooks nor wells for irrigation, and where hot winds scorch up every thing during the greater part of the fine season. It is only on the banks of the rivers that vegetation makes its appearance and the eye rests on cultivated fields and green pastures. There are indeed here and there a few depressions, where the gra.s.s retains its verdure during a part of the year, and some stunted trees spread their meagre branches over a less unkindly soil than that of the steppe; but these are unusual circ.u.mstances, and one must often travel hundreds of versts to find a single shrub. Such being the general configuration of the country, it may easily be imagined how cheerless is the aspect of those vast plains with nothing to vary their surface except the tumuli, and with no other boundaries than the sea. No one who is unaccustomed to that monotonous nature can long endure its influence. Those dreary wastes seem to him a boundless prison in which he vainly exerts himself without a hope of escape. And yet that flat and barren soil from which the eye turns away so contemptuously, has become a source of wealth to its present proprietors by the great success of the first experiments in Merino sheep-breeding. It was M. Rouvier, who first conceived the happy idea of turning the unproductive steppes into pasture. The Emperor Alexander, always ready to encourage liberal ideas, not only advanced the projector a sum of a hundred thousand rubles, but gave him even a man-of-war to go and make his first purchases in Spain, and on his return, granted him an immense extent of land, where the flocks, increasing rapidly, brought in a considerable fortune to M. Rouvier in a few years. His sons-in-law, General Potier and M. Va.s.sal inherited it, and formed those great establishments of which we have spoken. Thenceforth the stock of merinos increased with incredible rapidity in New Russia; but an enormous fall in the price of wool soon occurred, and many proprietors have now reason to regret their outlay in that branch of rural economy, and are endeavouring to get rid of their flocks. The rams which fetched 500 or 600 francs in 1834 and 1835, were not worth more than 250 or 300 in 1841. In 1842, a landowner of our acquaintance had made up his mind to part with his best thorough-bred rams for 140 and even 100 francs a head. The exportation of wool increased, nevertheless, during the last years of our stay in Russia; but this was only because the landowners, after holding out a long while, found themselves at last constrained to accept prices one-half lower than those current a few years before, and to dispose of the wools they had long kept in their warehouses. Here was another instance of the disastrous consequences of the Russian prohibitive system; it has been as fatal to the wool-trade as to that in corn.

Clarofka is a village consisting of fifteen or twenty houses, each containing two families of peasants. It is some distance from the farm, which alone contains more dwellings and inmates than the whole village.

The steward resides in a very long, low house, with small windows in the Russian fas.h.i.+on, and an earthen roof, and standing at the edge of a large pond, the fetid exhalations from which are very unwholesome during the hot season. A few weeping-willows wave their branches over the stagnant water, and increase still more the melancholy appearance of the spot. The pond is frequented by a mult.i.tude of water-fowl, such as teal, gulls, ducks, pelicans, and kourlis, that make their nests in the thick reeds on the margin. Beside the house, according to the Russian custom, stand the kitchens and other offices, the icehouse, poultry-yard, wash-house, cellar for fruit and vegetables, &c. A little further on are the stables and coach-houses, containing a great number of carriages, caleches, droshkies, and a dozen horses; other buildings, including the workmen's barracks, the forge, the gardener's and the miller's dwellings are scattered irregularly here and there. Two great wind-mills lift their huge wings above the road leading to the village. All this is not very handsome; but there is one thing indicative of princely sumptuousness, namely, an immense garden that spreads out behind the house, and almost makes one forget the steppes, so thick is the foliage of its beautiful alleys. One is at a loss to conceive by what miracle this park, with its large trees, its fine fruit, and its charming walks, can have thus sprung up out of the scorched and arid soil, that waits whole months for a few drops of water to clothe it in transient verdure.

And indeed to create such an oasis in the heart of so barren a land, there needed not one miracle, but a series of miracles of perseverance, toil, and resolution, seconded by all the means at the disposal of a Russian lord. All kinds of fruit are here collected together; we counted more than fifty varieties of the pear in one alley. Grapes of all kinds, strawberries, beds of asparagus of incomparable flavour, every thing in short that the most capricious taste can desire, grows there in such abundance, that seeing all these things one really feels transported into the midst of regions the most favoured by nature.

No one but a Russian lord could have effected such metamorphoses. Master of a whole population of slaves, he has never to pay for labour; and whims which would be ruinous to others, cost him only the trouble of conceiving them. In the dry season, which often lasts for more than five months, chain pumps worked by horses supply water to every part of this extensive garden, and thus afford what the unkind skies deny it. The work to be done in the spring season generally requires the labour of more than 200 pair of hands daily, and during the rest of the year three-score peasants are constantly employed in pruning the trees, plucking up the weeds that rapidly spring up in the walks, training the vines, and attending to the flowers. In return for all this expenditure the general has the satisfaction of seeing his table covered with the finest fruits and most exquisite preserves; and for one who inhabits a desert these things unquestionably have their value. On the whole Clarofka is a real _pays de cocagne_ for good cheer: the steppes abound with game of every kind, from grouse to the majestic bustard. A hunter is attached to the farm, and daily supplies the table with all the delicacies of this sort which the country affords. The sea also contributes abundance of excellent fish. It is evident, therefore, that in a gastronomic point of view it would be difficult to find a more advantageous residence; but this merit, important as it is, fails to make amends for the intolerable ennui one labours under in Clarofka.

Thanks to the garden, one may forget the steppe during the fine season; and then there is the amus.e.m.e.nt of fis.h.i.+ng, and of picking up sh.e.l.ls on the sea-sh.o.r.e, so that one may contrive to kill time pa.s.sably well. But what are you to do in winter, when the snow falls so thickly that you cannot see the houses, particularly when the _metel_ turns the whole country topsy-turvy? No language can give an idea of these _metels_ or hurricanes. They come down on the land with such whirling and driving gusts, such furious and continuous tempests, such whistlings and groanings of the wind, and a sky so murky and threatening, that no hurricane at sea can be more alarming. The snow is now piled up like a mountain, now hollowed into deep valleys, and now spread out into rus.h.i.+ng and heaving billows; or else it is driven through the air like a long white veil expanding and folding on itself until the wind has scattered its last shreds before it. In order to pa.s.s from one house to another, people are obliged to dig paths through the snow often two yards deep. Whole flocks of sheep, surprised by the tempest not far from their folds, and even herds of horses, have been driven into the sea and drowned. When beset by such dangers their instinct usually prompts them to cl.u.s.ter together in a circle and form a compact ma.s.s, so as to present less surface to the _metel_. But the force of the wind gradually compelling them forwards, they approach the sh.o.r.e, the ground fails them, and finally they all disappear beneath the waves. These tempests are generally succeeded by a dead calm, and an intense cold that soon changes the surface of the Dniepr and the sea-sh.o.r.e into a vast mirror.

This is the most agreeable part of the winter. The communications between neighbours are renewed; sporting expeditions on a great scale, excursions in sledges, and entertainments within doors follow each other almost without interruption. Despite the intensity of the cold, the Russians infinitely prefer it to a milder temperature, which would put a stop to their business as well as to their pleasures. The great fairs of the empire generally take place in winter; for then the frozen lakes and rivers serve the inhabitants as a safe and rapid means of communication.

In this way they traverse immense distances without quitting their sledges, and even without perceiving whether they are on land or water.

Wrapped up in their furs they encounter with impunity a temperature of 35 for several consecutive days, without any other auxiliaries than brandy and tea, which they consume in fearful quant.i.ties. During our winter residence in Clarofka, we had an opportunity of convincing ourselves that people suffer much less from cold in northern than in southern countries.

In Constantinople, where we had pa.s.sed the preceding winter, the cold and the snow appeared to us insupportable in the light wooden houses, open to every wind, and furnished with no other resource against the inclemency of the weather than a manghal, which served at best only to roast the feet and hands, whilst it left the rest of the body to freeze.

But in Russia even the mujik has constantly a temperature of nearly 77 in his cabin in the very height of winter, which he obtains in a very simple and economical manner. A large brickwork stove or oven is formed in the wall, consisting of a fireplace and a long series of quadrangular flues ending in the chimney and giving pa.s.sage to the smoke. The fire is made either of _kirb.i.t.c.h_[2] or of reeds. When these materials are completely consumed, the pipe by which the flues communicate with the chimney is hermetically closed, and the hot air pa.s.ses into the room by two openings made for that purpose. Exactly the same apparatus is used in the houses of the wealthy. The stoves are so contrived that one of them serves to heat two or three rooms. The halls, staircases, and servants' rooms, are all kept at the same temperature. But great caution is necessary to avoid the dangers to which this method of warming may give rise. I myself was saved only by a providential chance from falling a victim to them. I had been asleep for some hours one night, when I was suddenly awakened by my son, who was calling to me for drink. I got up instantly, and without waiting to light a candle I was proceeding to pour out a gla.s.s of water, but I had scarcely moved a few steps when the gla.s.s dropped from my hand and I fell, as if struck with lightning, and in a state of total insensibility. I had afterwards a confused recollection of cries that seemed to me to have come from a great distance; but for two minutes I remained completely inanimate, and only recovered consciousness after my husband had carried me into an icy room and laid me on the floor. My son suffered still more than myself, but it happened most strangely that my husband was not in the smallest degree affected, and this it was that saved us. The cause of this nocturnal alarm was the imprudence of a servant who had closed the stove before all the kirb.i.t.c.h was consumed; this was quite enough to make the atmosphere deadly. All the inmates of the house were more or less indisposed.

The hothouse temperature kept up in all the apartments cannot fail to act injuriously on the health. For more than ten months the outer air is never admitted into the house, and foreigners are affected in consequence with an uneasy sense of oppression and a sort of torpor that almost incapacitates them for thinking. As for the Russians, who are habituated to the thing from their childhood, they suffer little inconvenience from it; nevertheless many maladies probably owe their origin to this artificial warmth, which is equally enervating for body and mind. To this cause, no doubt, we must attribute the utter absence of blooming freshness from the cheeks of the Russian ladies. Incapable of enduring the slightest change of temperature, they have not the least idea of the pleasure derived from inhaling the fresh air, and braving the cold by means of brisk exercise. But for dancing, of which they are pa.s.sionately fond, their lives would pa.s.s away in almost absolute immobility, for lolling in a carriage is not what I call putting oneself in motion. There is scarcely any country where women walk less than in Russia, and nowhere do they lead more artificial lives. We had a Russian family for two months at Clarofka, returning from the waters of the Caucasus, and waiting until the sledging season was fully set in, to get back to Moscow. This family, consisting of a husband and wife and the sister of the latter, was a great G.o.dsend for us during part of the winter. Madame Bougainsky is a very clever young woman, equally well acquainted with our literary works as with our Parisian frivolities. But dress and play are for her the two grand concerns of life, and all the rest are but accessories. I do not think she went out of doors three times during her two months' stay in Clarofka. The habit of living in the world of fas.h.i.+on and in a perpetual state of parade had taken such inveterate hold on her, that, without thinking of it, she used to dress three or four times a day, just as if she were among the salons of Moscow. I learned from her that the Russian ladies are as fond of play as of dancing, and that many ruin themselves thereby. On the whole, there is little poetry or romance in the existence of Russian women of fas.h.i.+on. The men, though treating them with exquisite politeness and gallantry, in reality think little about them, and find more pleasure in hunting, smoking, gaming, and drinking, than in lavis.h.i.+ng on them those attentions to which they have many just claims. The Russian ladies have generally little beauty; their bloom, as I have said, is gone at twenty; but if they can boast neither perfect features nor dazzlingly fair complexions, there is, on the other hand, in all their manners remarkable elegance, and an indescribable fascination that sometimes makes them irresistible. With a pale face, a somewhat frail figure, careless att.i.tudes, and a haughty cast of countenance, they succeed in making more impression in a drawing-room than many women of greater beauty.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] _Liman_, a Tartar word signifying harbour, is the name given to the gulfs formed by the princ.i.p.al rivers of Southern Russia before their entrance into the sea.

[2] Kirb.i.t.c.h consists of dung kneaded into little bricks, and dried in summer. Along with straw and reeds, it forms the only firing used for domestic purposes. At Odessa, however, they procure firewood from Bessarabia, but it costs as much as ninety francs the cube fathom.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VII.

A propensity to sedentary habits is not peculiarly a female failing in Russia, as will appear from the following extract: "The Russian has as little taste for promenading on foot as any Oriental. Hence, with the exception of the two capitals, and the north-west provinces, in which German usages prevail, there are no public walks or gardens for recreation. True enjoyment, according to the notions of the genuine Muscovite, consists in sitting down to a well-furnished table, either in his own house or a neighbour's, and indulging after the repast in some game which requires the least possible exertion of body. Soon after my arrival in Kasan, I was glad to employ the early days of summer, which there begins at the end of May, in making pedestrian excursions in the neighbourhood, to the great and general surprise of my new friends, who could not conceive why I thus roamed like an idiot about the country, in which I had no business, as they very well knew. It was conjectured that I was ill, and had adopted this laborious discipline as a mode of cure; but even under this interpretation my proceedings seemed very strange to them, for their own invariable practice when they feel unwell, is to go to bed immediately. In one of my walks I fell in with an acquaintance, who asked me what took me to the village, to which he supposed I was going. On my replying, that I had nothing whatever to do there, and that as yet I had neither seen the village nor any of its inhabitants, he said then of course I was going to look at it. No, I told him, that was not my intention, for I knew very well I should see nothing there different from any of the other villages in the vicinity. 'Well, then, Daddy (_batiushka_),' said my puzzled and curious friend, 'do tell me, what is it you are afoot for?' 'I am afoot, simply for the sake of being afoot,' was my answer, 'for the pleasure of a little exercise in the open air.' My friend burst into a loud fit of laughter at this explanation of my rambling habits, which had so long been an enigma to himself and every body else. To walk for walking sake! He had never heard any thing like that in all his life, and it was not long before this most novel and extraordinary phrase ran the round of the whole town, so that even to the following year it remained a standing joke against me in every company I entered."--_Von Littrow._

_Suffocating vapours._--Accidents like that which befel Madame Hommaire, are unavoidably frequent under such a system of warming, and with servants so negligent as those in Russia; but happily they do not often end fatally. The worst result of them is generally a violent headache, all trace of which disappears the following day. Incredible as it may appear, the common people take pleasure in the sort of intoxication produced by the inhalation of diluted carbonic acid, and purposely procure themselves that strange enjoyment on leisure days. "They close the stoves before the usual time, and lie down on them; for in the peasants' houses the stoves are so constructed as to present a platform, on which the family sleep in winter. On entering a cabin on these occasions, you see the inmates lying close together on their bellies, chatting pleasantly with one another. Their faces are tumid and of a deep red hue, from the effects of the noxious gas. There is an unusual l.u.s.tre in their protruding eyeb.a.l.l.s, and in short, they have all the outward appearance of intoxication, though the intellectual functions are not affected by the gas. The headache they suffer may, indeed, be a drawback to their pleasure, but the increased warmth thus obtained, is so delightful to them, that they are content to purchase it even at that price. There is no mistaking their evident enjoyment and satisfaction, though one may not be tempted to partake in their joy."

Another mode of obtaining artificial heat is practised in what the Russian peasants call their smoke-rooms. These rooms have but a few very small windows, just large enough to pa.s.s the head through, and seldom glazed, except with talc, where that mineral is abundant and cheap.

Where this is not the case they are stopped up, in winter only, with moss and rags. When the fire is lighted, the chimney is closed, and the smoke escapes through the stove-door into the room. Being lighter than the cold air, it ascends at first, and hangs overhead in a thick cloud.

But as its ma.s.s increases, it gradually descends, until there is no standing upright in the room without danger of suffocation. As the smoke approaches the floor, so too do the inmates, first stooping, then kneeling, sitting, and at last lying p.r.o.ne. If the smoke threatens quite to reach the ground, they open the windows or air-holes, which are not quite level with a man's head, and the black vapour rushes out. The under part of the room is thus left free, the prostrate inmates gradually rise, and set about their occupations in the clear warm s.p.a.ce below. The first time I entered one of these dark sooty dens, I was so disgusted with it, that I should not have hesitated in my choice between a prison and so horrible an abode. I was, therefore, not a little surprised when I saw the inmates lying on the floor, gossiping quite at their ease, and bandying about jokes that will hardly bear repeating, but which manifested a degree of mirthfulness in these people I had, until then, thought quite impossible."--_Idem._

CHAPTER VIII.

AN EARTHQUAKE--LUDICROUS ANECDOTE--SLEDGING--SPORTING-- DANGEROUS Pa.s.sAGE OF THE DNIEPR--THAW; SPRING-TIME--MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE LITTLE RUSSIANS--EASTER HOLIDAYS--THE CLERGY.

That same winter at 10 P.M. on the 11th of January, we had a smart shock of earthquake, but which happily did no mischief in that part of the steppes. We were seated at the whist table, when we were suddenly startled by a loud rolling noise, that seemed rapidly approaching us, and the cards dropped from our hands. The sound was like that of a large heavily-laden waggon rattling over the pavement.

Scarcely two seconds after our first surprise the whole house received a sudden shock, that set all the furniture in motion, before the idea of an earthquake had occurred to our minds. This first shock was followed by another of longer duration, but less alarming character; it was like the undulation of the waves when they are seeking to recover their equilibrium. The whole house was filled with dismay, except the party in the drawing-room; with us surprise prevailed over fear, and we remained motionless as statues, whilst every one else was running out of doors.

The earthquake, of which mention has been made in several journals, gave occasion to a ludicrous story that was related to us some days after.

One of the general's peasants, an old fellow whose conscience was no doubt burthened with some weighty sin, imagined when he felt his house dancing like a boat on the waves, that the devil in person was come to bid him prepare to accompany him to the bottomless pit. Tearing out his hair by the roots, bawling, roaring, and crossing himself, he begins to confess his sins aloud, and gives himself up to the most violent terror and despair. His wife, who was no less alarmed, accused her husband of all sorts of wickedness; the husband retorted on the wife, and the whole night was pa.s.sed in unspeakable confusion. The day dawned, but brought no comfort to the unfortunate sinner, whose spirits were all in a ferment, like new wine. Fully a.s.sured that the devil would soon come and lay his claws on him, he had no thought of going to his daily work. His wife was equally regardless of her household cares; what was the use of her preparing the porridge, when she and her husband were sure of breakfasting with Lucifer? So there they sat, waiting the fatal moment, with an anxiety that would have petrified them at last, but for an unexpected incident. All the other peasants, probably having less on their consciences, had been a-field since dawn. The head man of the village missed Petrovitch and his wife; he waited for them some hours, and at last bent his steps towards their cabin, calculating as he went how many stripes of the knout he should administer to them for their unpardonable neglect of duty. He steps in, but no one seems to notice his presence. Petrovitch sits huddled together in a corner, staring before him with gla.s.sy eyes; whilst his wife, on her knees before a picture of St. Nicholas, never for a moment interrupts her crossings and lamentations. "Hallo! what's all this?" cries the overseer, "have you lost your wits, and don't you know that you ought to have been at work hours ago?" "Oh Ivan Ivanovitch, it's all over; I shall never work again." "Not work again, wont you? we shall see. Come, start, b.o.o.by!"

And down comes the knout on the back of the peasant, who receives the blows with the most stoical composure. "O beat me if you like; it's all the same. What signify a few blows more or less, when a body is going to be roasted with the fiends?" "What on earth do you mean?" said the puzzled overseer; "what has happened to you to make you talk such nonsense?" "Nonsense here, or nonsense there, I have had a warning in the night." Ivan now recollected the earthquake, and suspecting he had found a clue to the mystery, burst into a hearty fit of laughter. "Oh, you may laugh; but you don't know that I am a great sinner, and that the devil came last night to claim my soul." After amusing himself sufficiently with the man's terrors, the overseer had the utmost difficulty in convincing him that all the other houses had been shaken like his own, and that the devil had nothing to do with the matter.

Sledge driving is one of the greatest amus.e.m.e.nts of the Russian winter.

The horses, stimulated by the cold, sweep with you over the plain with the most mettlesome impetuosity. In the twinkling of an eye, you have left behind you the whole surface of a frozen lake, measuring several versts in length. It is a downright steeplechase: the keenness of the air, the rapid motion, the shouts of the driver urging the willing steeds, the vast plain that seems to enlarge as you advance, all produce an intense excitement, and pleasurably dispel the torpor caused by the indolent life of the steppes. We frequently crossed the Dniepr in this manner, to drive about the streets of Kherson, where all the fas.h.i.+on of the neighbourhood rendezvous from noon to two o'clock. It is an exercise which has as much charm for the Russians as for foreigners; the smallest landowner, or the lowest clerk in a public office, though he earns but a few rubles a year, must have his sledge and his two horses, if he starves for it half the year. At the usual hour you may reckon more than a hundred sledges of every form, most of them covered with rich rugs and furs, chasing each other through the streets, and each containing a gentleman and lady, and a driver furred from head to foot. This sort of amus.e.m.e.nt is an admirable aid to coquetry. Nothing can be more fascinating than those female figures wrapped up in pelisses, and with their faces dimly seen through their blonde veils; appearing for an instant, and then vanis.h.i.+ng into the vaporous atmosphere, followed by many a tender glance.

I must say a few words as to the field sports of the steppes. Shooting parties use a very long low carriage called a _dolgushka_, and accommodating more than fifteen persons seated back to back. The feet rest on a board on each side about a foot from the ground. Behind the driver is a large box for holding provisions and all the accoutrements of the sportsmen; and the game is received in another box fixed at the end of the carriage. Nothing can be more convenient for country parties.

The _dolgushka_ is drawn by four horses yoked abreast; birds are much less afraid of it than of a man on foot, and come near enough to allow the sportsman to shoot without alighting. Parties often amounting to many hundreds, both n.o.bles and peasants, a.s.semble for the pursuit of wolves, foxes, and hares. The usual scene of these hunts is a desert island belonging to General Potier. They begin by a general beating of the steppes, whereupon the wild animals cross the ice to the little island, thinking to be safe there from the b.a.l.l.s of their pursuers; but their retreat is soon invaded. The hunters form a circle round the island, and then begins a slaughter that for some time clears the country of those sheep devourers. Two or three battues of this kind take place every year, chiefly for the purpose of destroying the wolves that come in flocks and carry dismay into the sheep-folds.

Among the peculiarities presented by the plains of the Black Sea, I must not omit to mention the extensive conflagrations that regularly take place in winter, and remind one of the scenes witnessed by many travellers in the prairies of America. In Russia, it is the inhabitants themselves who set fire to the steppes, thinking that by thus clearing away the withered herbage from the surface, they favour the growth of the new gra.s.s. But the flames being often driven by the winds in all directions, and over immense surfaces, now and then occasion great disasters; and there have been instances in which sheep-folds and whole flocks have been consumed.

The thaw begins on the Dniepr, about the end of March. It is preceded by dull cracklings and m.u.f.fled sounds, giving token that the river is awakening from its long icy sleep, and is about to burst its prison. All communication between the farms and Kherson is interrupted for more than six weeks; posts of Cossacks stationed along the banks, give notice of the danger of crossing; but as the temperature is continually changing at that season, the final break-up does not take place for a long while.

At the beginning of the thaw we persisted in going to Kherson, in opposition to all advice. When we came to the banks of the Dniepr and manifested our intention of crossing, all the boatmen stared at us in amazement, and not one of them would let us hire his sledge. We were therefore about to give up our project, when we saw two or three gentlemen coming towards us on foot across the Dniepr, followed by an empty sledge. They told us that the river was partially clear of ice opposite Kherson, and that it would be extremely dangerous to attempt crossing in a sledge. They had left Kherson at six in the morning, (it was then ten) and had been all that time engaged in effecting their pa.s.sage. They united with the boatmen in dissuading us from undertaking such a journey, the danger of which was now the greater, inasmuch as the sun had acquired much power since the morning; but all was of no avail; their sledge which they placed at our disposal decided the business, and we embarked gaily, preceded by a boatman, whom our example had encouraged, and who was to sound the ice before us. A glowing sun streamed over the vast sheet of ice, raising from it a bluish vapour, which the driver and the guide watched with lively anxiety.

Notwithstanding their looks of uneasiness we pushed on rapidly, and the boatman was oftener on the sledge than in advance of it. By and by, however, the sounds of cracking ice growing more and more frequent, rather cast a gloom over our imaginations, and made us begin to fear that we should meet with more serious obstacles further on. We saw the ice melting in some degree beneath the rays of the sun, and gradually parting from the sh.o.r.es of the islands we were coasting; and what still more augmented our uneasiness, was the elasticity of the ice, which bent very visibly under the motion of our sledge. Its gradual rise and fall seemed like the breathing of the river, becoming more and more distinct as the ice diminished in thickness. As our guide still continued to advance, we had no other course than to follow him, and so we came to an arm of the Dniepr, which is much dreaded on account of its current, the rapidity of which does not allow the ice to acquire much solidity even in the most intense frosts. We all proceeded to cross it on foot, each maneuvering as best he could on a surface as smooth as a mirror. At last, notwithstanding our zigzags, our tumbles, and the splitting of the ice, we found ourselves safe over the perilous pa.s.sage, very much delighted at having escaped so well, and at feeling solid ground under our feet. We had then more than two versts to travel over an island, before we came to the branch of the river opposite Kherson. With the utmost confidence, then, we seated ourselves once more in the sledge, and bounded away at full speed over a soft surface of snow melting rapidly in the sun. But it is always when the mind is most at ease, that accidents seem to take a malicious pleasure in surprising us. A wide crevice, which the driver had not time to avoid, suddenly yawned athwart our course; the sledge was immediately upset, and we were all pitched out. My husband, who was seated on the top of the baggage, was quite stunned by the blow; the driver and the guide, who were thrown a considerable distance from the sledge, remained motionless likewise; and as for me, I found myself rolled up in my pelisse in the middle of a bush. When I cast a look on my companions in misfortune, they were beginning to stir and to feel themselves all over. They seemed in no hurry to get up, and they cut such piteous figures, that I could not help laughing most heartily. Notwithstanding our bruises we were soon on our legs, with the certainty that none of our bones were broken. The driver limped back to his seat, in great amazement at not receiving a severe castigation for his awkwardness. Had this mishap occurred to Russians, the poor fellow would not have escaped with less than a sound drubbing. We were more magnanimous, and imputed wholly to fortune an accident which, indeed, could not easily have been avoided.

Our journey continued without much to alarm us, until we were just about to commit ourselves to the wide arm of the Dniepr, that still lay between us and the town. Its surface presented an appearance that was really frightful. Enormous banks of ice were beginning to move, and had already left a great part of the river exposed. Besides this, the ice that still remained fixed, was so intersected with clefts, that we could not advance without serious danger. Our position was becoming more and more critical, and we were thinking of returning to the island we had just left, and waiting until a boat could take us across to Kherson; but as there would probably have been as much risk in returning as in proceeding, we continued our route but with the utmost caution. The first glow of exulting boldness was over, and we sorely regretted our temerity. The floor that separated us from the waters seemed so treacherous, that we every moment despaired of escape. This state of perplexity lasted more than an hour; but at last we reached the vessels that were ice-locked at some distance from the harbour. We were now in safety, and we finished our perilous expedition in a boat.

Two days afterwards a southerly wind had almost completely swept away the immense sheet of ice that for so many months had imprisoned the waters of the Dniepr. The thaw took place so rapidly, that the river was free before any one could have noted the progress of its deliverance. In eight days there was not a vestige of ice, and we returned to Clarofka, without experiencing any of the emotions we had felt on our first rash and picturesque expedition. But this mild weather, very unusual in the month of March, soon gave place to sharp frosts, which renewed the winter mantle of the Dniepr, and did not entirely cease until the beginning of April. At this season the steppes begin to be clothed with a magnificent vegetation, and in a few days they have the appearance of a boundless meadow, full of thyme, hyacinths, tulips, pinks, and an infinity of other wild flowers of great sweetness and beauty. Thousands of larks nestle in the gra.s.s, and carol everywhere over the traveller's head. The sea, too, partakes in the common gladness of the general season. Its sh.e.l.ls are more beautiful and more numerous; its hues are more varied, and its murmurs gentler. Plants and animals seem all in haste to live and reproduce their kind, as if they foresaw the brief duration of these pleasant days. Elsewhere, summer is often but a continuation of spring; fresh blossoms come forth, and nature retains her vital power for a long period; but here a fortnight or three weeks are enough to change the vernal freshness of the landscape into a sun-burnt waste. In all these countries there are really but two seasons; you pa.s.s from intense cold to a Senegal heat; without the body having time to accustom itself to this sudden change of temperature. The sea-breezes alone make it possible to endure the heat which in July and August almost always amounts to 94 or 95.

The thing to which the stranger finds it most difficult to accustom his eyes in Russia, is the horrible sheep-skins in which men, women, and children are m.u.f.fled at all times of the year. These half-tanned skins, which are worn with the wool inwards, give them a savage appearance, which is increased in the men by the long beard and moustaches they invariably wear. Yet there are handsome faces to be seen among the Russian peasants, and in this respect Nature has been much more liberal to the men than to the women, who are generally very ugly. The dress of the latter consists in a s.h.i.+ft with wide sleeves, fitting tight round the throat, and trimmed with coloured cotton, and a petticoat fastened below the bosom. Instead of a petticoat, girls commonly wear a piece of woollen stuff, which laps across in front, without forming a single plait, and is fastened by a long, narrow scarf, embroidered at the ends.

Their legs are quite bare, and any rather sudden movement may open their singular garment more than is consistent with decorum. On holidays they add to their ordinary attire a large muslin cap, and an ap.r.o.n of the same material, adorned with a wide flounce. Their hair is tied up with ribands, into two tresses, that fall on their shoulders, or are twisted into a crown on the top of the head. When they marry, they cease to wear their hair uncovered; a handkerchief of a glaring colour is then their usual head-dress. We are now speaking only of the women of Little Russia; but those of Great Russia retain the national costume called _serafine_, which is very picturesque, and is still worn at court on special occasions.