Volume One—Chapter Sixteen.The principal place of resort of that singular race of people, the Zingani, or Gipsies, or as they universally call themselves the Rommany; of whom there are several thousands in and about Moscow; is the Marina Rochte, lying about two versts distant from the city.Most of these people obtain their livelihood in Moscow, either by keeping taverns, or by dealing in horses and by various other like kinds of traffic, bearing in general but an indifferently good character. The class, however, to which we now allude, are of the lowest order; whose females sing at the taverns and different public gardens in the neighbourhood, and are not of the best repute, as to modesty of behaviour. Here they congregate in great numbers, their countenances resembling those of their race who are to be met with in England; of brown complexions, and for the most part having beautiful and regular features; their eyes fiery and intelligent; their hair, somewhat coarse, of coal black hue; and all having the same free and independent bearing.There is, however, another class of Zingani, whose very existence will surprise those who have been accustomed to consider these people as mere wandering barbarians, incapable of civilisation, and unable to appreciate the blessings of a quiet and settled life; for many of them inhabit large and handsome houses in Moscow, appear abroad in elegant equipages, and are scarcely to be distinguished from the upper classes of the Russians, unless, indeed by possessing superior personal advantages and mental accomplishments. Of this singular social phenomenon at Moscow, the female Gipsies are the principal cause, having from time immemorial cultivated their vocal powers, with such effect, that although in the heart of a country in which the vocal art has arrived at a greater perfection than perhaps in any other part of the world, the principal gipsy choirs in that city are, by universal consent, allowed to be unrivalled.The sums obtained by these singers, are very large, enabling them to live in luxury of every description, and to maintain their husbands in almost princely magnificence. Many are married to Russian gentlemen of consideration. The lovely, talented, and domestic wife of a Count, well-known in the highest, circles of Moscow, is by birth a Gipsy, and was formerly the chief pride of a Rommany choir at Moscow, as she is now one of the principal ornaments of refined society.In no other part of the world do the gipsies flourish as they do in Russia, affording a great contrast to the wretched hordes steeped in penury and vice, who infest the Peninsula; and to the low thieving trampers of England and Scotland, existing by petty pillage; such bands often being indeed but a collection of the lowest vagabonds of every description intermingled with the original race.There are many opinions as to the land from whence the Zingani have sprung; it is generally supposed, that they originally came from Hindostan, being of the lowest class of Indians, called Suders, or those who have lost caste; that they migrated from thence in great numbers in 1409, when Timour Beg ravaged India, to spread with fire and sword the tenets of the Mahomedan religion. It seems probable that in their way towards Egypt, where we first hear of them, that they resided for a time in the country called Zinganen, at the mouth of the Indus, from whence they may perhaps have gained the name of Zingani. By what route they reached Egypt from thence, is not known, but they had fixed themselves there in great numbers in 1517, when Sultan Selim conquered the country. They revolted from his rule, under a leader who has assumed the name of Zinganeus, probably from being chosen chief of that people; but were completely worsted, being again compelled to seek safety in flight, and made their appearance in Europe in large bands about the year 1520. Some of their leaders, who with their followers found their way to the northern parts of Europe, called themselves dukes and lords of Lower Egypt, endeavouring to impose on the people, among whom they came, with pretentions of rank and dignity; in this, however, they were not very successful, soon sinking into a class considered no better than rogues and vagabonds.In Russia, on the contrary, among an ignorant and barbarous population, their various talents and acuteness enabled them to sustain a superior station; nor have they, at any time, been there subject to the persecutions and indignities which they have had to endure in other countries of Europe. Though some, as we have said, have taken up their abode in cities, others still retain their primitive and wandering habits, living in tents; and roving from place to place, as may suit their fancy; or as they find it convenient to carry on the pursuits by which they exist.The tribe or family to which Azila belonged, was under the guidance of a sagacious leader, and was compelled by him to refrain from all marauding habits. Though the Zingani chief was possessed of considerable wealth, he was of too free and independent a disposition to confine himself to the trammels and restraint of the social life of a city, preferring the more varied and roving existence enjoyed in a camp. He had, however, numerous connexions of every rank in the city; among the most superior of whom, his daughter Azila, had in truth been educated, and when her own inclinations led her to return to her father’s camp, she was still regarded by them with the greatest affection; and it was by their aid, assisted by her own talent and penetration, that she was able to collect the varied information, which as we have seen, was of so much importance to the conspirators.It is towards the close of one of the few bright and balmy days which cheer the hearts of the Russians in their short-lived summer, that we must again introduce our readers to the camp of our friend, the Zingani chief. It had lately been pitched on the confines of a wood, at a short distance from Marina Rochte; and it was evident, from fewer people than usual being seen about the encampments, that many had joined their brethren in the village, to enjoy their constant amusements of dancing, singing, and other sports.At a short distance from the tented circle, the Zingani chief was slowly pacing the grass, with his arms crossed on his bosom, and lost in thought. At length he soliloquised aloud:“This is the baneful effect of departing from our ancient laws and customs, by taking part in the affairs of the people with whom we dwell; losing our freedom and independence, by becoming subject to their cruel and unjust laws. Ought not I to have prevented that loved girl from trammelling herself with the affairs of others, who would show but little gratitude for her exertions, even if successful; and now too, probably, she herself may be in danger: and if so, what resource have I but to declare her parentage. That would save her: but the so doing would bring ruin on one who still lives. If she falls into the power of the tyrannical dispensers of the law, her fate would be dreadful. Should I not then save her? Yes, I must, even at the expense of the oath I so thoughtlessly took. It provided not for such an emergency. It must be done; and even thus, it would well nigh break my heart to part from her; to see her subject to all the deceit and treachery to which her station would expose her—to see her free-born spirit oppressed by the strict rules and absurd etiquette of society; to see her governed by one who could not appreciate her qualities, and shrinking before his stern and savage glance; confined too within walls, and no longer allowed to wander in free and unrestrained liberty. And yet, some will say that I am acting wrongly; that I am depriving her of the enjoyment of luxuries and of wealth, which are her due. Fools—fools! who value worthless gold, outward pomp, and idle, debilitating effeminacy, to health, and the free air of heaven.”As he again turned, he saw the object of his thoughts approaching, at a quick pace, from the direction of the city. Azila appeared hurried and eager in manner; and after holding a short conference with her father, they entered together within the circle of tents. The gipsy chief then summoned round him the men who yet remained in the encampment—persons in whom he could place the utmost reliance in cases of emergency.“Men of Rommany!” he said, addressing them in that style of language which they most love to hear, “there is an arduous and dangerous task to be performed, which will require the utmost sagacity and care. I have, therefore, summoned you around me, to select one who will swear to undertake it; but whoever offers himself, must know, that he risks his liberty, and perhaps his life.”As he finished speaking, a youth stepped forward from the circle of his companions, exclaiming:“I am ready to undertake whatever you propose, if it be within the power of man!”The keen, lustrous, dark eye; handsome and intelligent countenance; and well-knit limbs of the youth, were powerful recommendations in his favour; and the chief, without hesitation, selected him.“I well know that I can trust you,” said the chief; “the task will require all your sagacity and courage. Its main object is to ensure the freedom of the young stranger. But remember, Javis, that if your attempt be discovered, chains, imprisonment, and banishment, will infallibly be your lot: and for your reward, if you succeed, the utmost I can give, are my own and Azila’s grateful thanks. More she cannot give,” he added, as a blush rose, for a moment, on the youth’s dark cheek.“I ask not for reward,” answered the youth. “It is but a debt of gratitude each man of the tribe owes to the young stranger; and I should be base if I were not ready to pay it: I will save him, or perish in the attempt.”“I trust you fully, Javis,” said the chief; “and now we will call Azila to our conference.”He beckoned his daughter to approach; and for a considerable time they held an earnest consultation together.As they finished speaking, a boy ran in, to inform the chief that a stranger was approaching the encampment.“I will speak with him,” said the chief.In a few minutes the boy returned, accompanied by a peasant, whose weary and sorrowful appearance seemed to demand compassion.“Who are you?” said the chief, eyeing him narrowly, and apparently satisfied with his scrutiny. “Who are you, who come uninvited among the people of Rommany? What do you seek with us?”“If you are the person I take you to be, you shall presently know,” answered the peasant; “tell me, are you not that kind, honest Gipsy, who was once very civil to my master; my poor young master, whom I have been seeking all over the city, and can hear nothing of. Alas! alas! I fear that he is in great peril.”“Who is your master?” asked the Gipsy; “when I know that, I may perhaps answer some of your questions.”“My poor young master,” replied the peasant, who proved to be our old friend Karl, “is the son of Baron Galetzoff. Well, I was sent to Moscow to-day, and venturing to pay a visit to my young Lord, I heard that he had disappeared, nobody knows where. I have been seeking for him all day, in every place I could think of, and have now come to ask you, if you know any thing of him?”“It is not my custom to answer the questions of those whom I do not know,” said the Gipsy. “Tell me, how came you to suppose, that I could tell you any thing of your master?”“Why, for this reason,” said Karl; “I once heard my poor young master, and his friend Thaddeus Stanisloff, speak of a Zingani chief, who had promised to assist them, if they got into any difficulties. Well, as I was wandering about, and looking in search of my master, I saw some of the Rommany people; and I bethought me that I would come out here, and learn if their chief was in the neighbourhood, and if he knew any thing of my dear master.”“Well, my good friend,” said the Gipsy, who was pleased with poor Karl’s simplicity and sincerity, “go back now to the city, and say not a word more of your master; but return here to-morrow, at day-break, and be careful that you are unobserved, and perhaps you may then see him.”“Thanks, most kind and worthy Sir,” answered Karl, “you have made my heart light and happy again.”He then took his leave, as desired, and returned to Moscow; where, as he was wandering about, looking into various shops, to pass the time, he met an acquaintance, to whom he could not resist giving the gratifying intelligence, that he had heard of his young master, the son of the Baron Galetzoff, as he still persisted in calling Ivan. He did not observe that a stranger was standing within ear-shot, at the time; but he soon found, to his cost, the effects of his thoughtless communication; for, within, an hour, he was seized by some of the police, and dragged immediately before a magistrate.He was at first mildly interrogated respecting Ivan, in the hope of extracting some voluntary information from him. The magistrate then pressed him more severely, but discovered that the prisoner was a most difficult subject to exert his authority upon, and when sternly ordered to confess all he knew, he stoutly denied ever having received any information of the person in question.Unfortunately, however, for poor Karl, his perseverance was of no avail to himself, for his acquaintance, who had confessed all he knew, was confronted with him. Another person was found, who proved that he was a serf of the Baron Galetzoff, and consequently must have known the son of that noble. His denial was therefore of no further service to him, and the next day, he was ordered before a criminal court then sitting, where for his contumacy in refusing to answer any questions, he was condemned forthwith to receive the punishment of the knout.Poor Karl turned pale when he heard his sentence pronounced, but his courage did not forsake him, and he determined to undergo any torture, rather than betray his young master. He was dragged off, therefore, to receive his punishment, with two other criminals convicted of heinous crimes, and whose pallid countenances and trembling limbs, betokened their dread of the coming torture.The place of execution and punishment is in an open space, outside one of the barriers of the city; and there a mob of skin-clad labourers and peasants had collected, as they saw the prisoners approach, conducted by their guards and the officers, whose duty it was to see that punishment was duly inflicted.Even in Russia, the executioner or Palatch, as he is called, is looked upon with the same opprobrium and dislike as in most other countries, and he is always some criminal, still considered as a prisoner, but lodges by himself in a solitary house outside the gates of the city. Instances have occurred of criminals actually refusing the odious office, preferring, rather than undertake its cruel duties, the weary and toilsome journey to Siberia, with all the miseries and wretchedness incident to it, and an eternal banishment from their country.The Palatch, on the present occasion, was a criminal sentenced for life to hard labour in the Siberian mines for murder. The mere appearance of this man, bespoke that savage disposition, which could find gratification in the exercise of his horrid occupation. Underneath his red tangled locks, a scowling forehead protruded, exhibiting beneath his rough eye-brows, a pair of bleared eyes; a flattish, turned up nose, was the only other feature to be seen on his face, his mouth being concealed by a mass of grizzly red hair, which covered the lower part of his face. Even the yoke-necked, slavish multitude, set up a shout of disgust, as the hated inflictor of cruelty appeared; but he seemed callous to their feelings, commencing the preparations for his loathsome office, with cool indifference.The two real criminals were to suffer first, all three being stationed ready for punishment, in a conspicuous place. The first culprit was placed before an upright board, shaped like an inverted cone; in the upper or broad end of which are hollowed out three notches, the middle one being contrived to receive the neck of the culprit, and the other two the arms, which are securely bound; the legs being fastened to the bottom of the board. The upper part of the body is then stripped quite bare. These preparations being completed, the brutal executioner flourishes the knout round his head, and with tremendous force it descends on the back of the victim, horribly lacerating the flesh. The handle of the knout, is a thick stick eighteen inches long, to the end of which is fastened a twisted thong of leather, twice the length of the stick; and to the end of the thong again, there is a copper ring, through which is passed, with a slip knot, a double strap of leather, an inch broad near the ring, and tapering to a point near the running end; the straps being boiled in milk, to swell and harden them.Poor Karl looked at this formidable weapon, in the hands of the executioner, with feelings of the most intense hatred; but even the shrieks of his precursors in suffering, as the lash descended on their backs, did not make him waver in his constancy. He was doomed to a still greater trial; for just before it became his turn to suffer, he heard a voice, calling out his name, proceeding apparently from a telga, which, with some others, had just left the gates of the city, and was quickly passing by. He turned round for an instant; and a glance of pleasure lit up his countenance, as he fancied that he recognised the voice: but instantly recollecting himself, he again hung down his head, and appeared to observe nothing around him, till the telga had driven rapidly away.At length he was also lashed up for punishment; but he uttered not a groan, until nature almost gave way before the executioner had finished his hideous work, which he seemed to go through with greater zest, from the practice he had already had; as the wild beast, which has once tasted human blood, feels insatiate until he has gorged himself with it. Karl knew that at one moment he might have saved himself the torture inflicted upon him; but he willingly suffered without a complaint—a true specimen of the Russian national character, displaying sturdy fidelity and passive endurance, without an expectation or hope of reward.As yet, he had not half expiated the crime he was charged with, and justice still retained him in her clutches. He was carried back to prison till his wounds were healed, at which period he was compelled to serve the Emperor as a soldier. The constant draft, which an unhealthy climate and the Circassian sabres made in the army of the Caucasus, necessitated the frequent incorporation of criminals in its ranks. With manacles on his hands and feet, he was marched off with others, formed into large bands, containing many volunteers, who were, however, treated in the same way, to prevent their escaping, lest they should change their minds.Karl knew that it was useless to complain; and as he was of a contented and happy disposition, not much addicted to thinking, he determined to make the best of his lot. Fortunately for themselves, his companions also were blind to the hardships and miseries they would probably be compelled to undergo; although thus loaded like culprits with heavy chains, they passed their time in singing and laughter. As they marched on, their shouts of merriment rose to the skies, amid the clank of their chains, as if to mock the cruelty of their oppressors: the poor wretches being entirely ignorant of the blessings of freedom, and incapable of feeling their degradation, perhaps even incapacitated for thought! Such are now the only people in Europe who can securely be governed by despotism; and such are the senseless tools with which the mighty Czar of Russia works out his imperial will. What care they how many freemen they bring to a like state of bondage as their own? The yoke has so long pressed on their necks, that they heed not its galling weight; but like the patient oxen, they are content to be goaded on to their work, at their master’s will. This vast, soulless engine, is indeed of tremendous force; and has but too often been used to crush and overwhelm freedom, and to plant the banner of tyranny amid lands, where the flag of liberty has hitherto waved bright and unsullied.
The principal place of resort of that singular race of people, the Zingani, or Gipsies, or as they universally call themselves the Rommany; of whom there are several thousands in and about Moscow; is the Marina Rochte, lying about two versts distant from the city.
Most of these people obtain their livelihood in Moscow, either by keeping taverns, or by dealing in horses and by various other like kinds of traffic, bearing in general but an indifferently good character. The class, however, to which we now allude, are of the lowest order; whose females sing at the taverns and different public gardens in the neighbourhood, and are not of the best repute, as to modesty of behaviour. Here they congregate in great numbers, their countenances resembling those of their race who are to be met with in England; of brown complexions, and for the most part having beautiful and regular features; their eyes fiery and intelligent; their hair, somewhat coarse, of coal black hue; and all having the same free and independent bearing.
There is, however, another class of Zingani, whose very existence will surprise those who have been accustomed to consider these people as mere wandering barbarians, incapable of civilisation, and unable to appreciate the blessings of a quiet and settled life; for many of them inhabit large and handsome houses in Moscow, appear abroad in elegant equipages, and are scarcely to be distinguished from the upper classes of the Russians, unless, indeed by possessing superior personal advantages and mental accomplishments. Of this singular social phenomenon at Moscow, the female Gipsies are the principal cause, having from time immemorial cultivated their vocal powers, with such effect, that although in the heart of a country in which the vocal art has arrived at a greater perfection than perhaps in any other part of the world, the principal gipsy choirs in that city are, by universal consent, allowed to be unrivalled.
The sums obtained by these singers, are very large, enabling them to live in luxury of every description, and to maintain their husbands in almost princely magnificence. Many are married to Russian gentlemen of consideration. The lovely, talented, and domestic wife of a Count, well-known in the highest, circles of Moscow, is by birth a Gipsy, and was formerly the chief pride of a Rommany choir at Moscow, as she is now one of the principal ornaments of refined society.
In no other part of the world do the gipsies flourish as they do in Russia, affording a great contrast to the wretched hordes steeped in penury and vice, who infest the Peninsula; and to the low thieving trampers of England and Scotland, existing by petty pillage; such bands often being indeed but a collection of the lowest vagabonds of every description intermingled with the original race.
There are many opinions as to the land from whence the Zingani have sprung; it is generally supposed, that they originally came from Hindostan, being of the lowest class of Indians, called Suders, or those who have lost caste; that they migrated from thence in great numbers in 1409, when Timour Beg ravaged India, to spread with fire and sword the tenets of the Mahomedan religion. It seems probable that in their way towards Egypt, where we first hear of them, that they resided for a time in the country called Zinganen, at the mouth of the Indus, from whence they may perhaps have gained the name of Zingani. By what route they reached Egypt from thence, is not known, but they had fixed themselves there in great numbers in 1517, when Sultan Selim conquered the country. They revolted from his rule, under a leader who has assumed the name of Zinganeus, probably from being chosen chief of that people; but were completely worsted, being again compelled to seek safety in flight, and made their appearance in Europe in large bands about the year 1520. Some of their leaders, who with their followers found their way to the northern parts of Europe, called themselves dukes and lords of Lower Egypt, endeavouring to impose on the people, among whom they came, with pretentions of rank and dignity; in this, however, they were not very successful, soon sinking into a class considered no better than rogues and vagabonds.
In Russia, on the contrary, among an ignorant and barbarous population, their various talents and acuteness enabled them to sustain a superior station; nor have they, at any time, been there subject to the persecutions and indignities which they have had to endure in other countries of Europe. Though some, as we have said, have taken up their abode in cities, others still retain their primitive and wandering habits, living in tents; and roving from place to place, as may suit their fancy; or as they find it convenient to carry on the pursuits by which they exist.
The tribe or family to which Azila belonged, was under the guidance of a sagacious leader, and was compelled by him to refrain from all marauding habits. Though the Zingani chief was possessed of considerable wealth, he was of too free and independent a disposition to confine himself to the trammels and restraint of the social life of a city, preferring the more varied and roving existence enjoyed in a camp. He had, however, numerous connexions of every rank in the city; among the most superior of whom, his daughter Azila, had in truth been educated, and when her own inclinations led her to return to her father’s camp, she was still regarded by them with the greatest affection; and it was by their aid, assisted by her own talent and penetration, that she was able to collect the varied information, which as we have seen, was of so much importance to the conspirators.
It is towards the close of one of the few bright and balmy days which cheer the hearts of the Russians in their short-lived summer, that we must again introduce our readers to the camp of our friend, the Zingani chief. It had lately been pitched on the confines of a wood, at a short distance from Marina Rochte; and it was evident, from fewer people than usual being seen about the encampments, that many had joined their brethren in the village, to enjoy their constant amusements of dancing, singing, and other sports.
At a short distance from the tented circle, the Zingani chief was slowly pacing the grass, with his arms crossed on his bosom, and lost in thought. At length he soliloquised aloud:
“This is the baneful effect of departing from our ancient laws and customs, by taking part in the affairs of the people with whom we dwell; losing our freedom and independence, by becoming subject to their cruel and unjust laws. Ought not I to have prevented that loved girl from trammelling herself with the affairs of others, who would show but little gratitude for her exertions, even if successful; and now too, probably, she herself may be in danger: and if so, what resource have I but to declare her parentage. That would save her: but the so doing would bring ruin on one who still lives. If she falls into the power of the tyrannical dispensers of the law, her fate would be dreadful. Should I not then save her? Yes, I must, even at the expense of the oath I so thoughtlessly took. It provided not for such an emergency. It must be done; and even thus, it would well nigh break my heart to part from her; to see her subject to all the deceit and treachery to which her station would expose her—to see her free-born spirit oppressed by the strict rules and absurd etiquette of society; to see her governed by one who could not appreciate her qualities, and shrinking before his stern and savage glance; confined too within walls, and no longer allowed to wander in free and unrestrained liberty. And yet, some will say that I am acting wrongly; that I am depriving her of the enjoyment of luxuries and of wealth, which are her due. Fools—fools! who value worthless gold, outward pomp, and idle, debilitating effeminacy, to health, and the free air of heaven.”
As he again turned, he saw the object of his thoughts approaching, at a quick pace, from the direction of the city. Azila appeared hurried and eager in manner; and after holding a short conference with her father, they entered together within the circle of tents. The gipsy chief then summoned round him the men who yet remained in the encampment—persons in whom he could place the utmost reliance in cases of emergency.
“Men of Rommany!” he said, addressing them in that style of language which they most love to hear, “there is an arduous and dangerous task to be performed, which will require the utmost sagacity and care. I have, therefore, summoned you around me, to select one who will swear to undertake it; but whoever offers himself, must know, that he risks his liberty, and perhaps his life.”
As he finished speaking, a youth stepped forward from the circle of his companions, exclaiming:
“I am ready to undertake whatever you propose, if it be within the power of man!”
The keen, lustrous, dark eye; handsome and intelligent countenance; and well-knit limbs of the youth, were powerful recommendations in his favour; and the chief, without hesitation, selected him.
“I well know that I can trust you,” said the chief; “the task will require all your sagacity and courage. Its main object is to ensure the freedom of the young stranger. But remember, Javis, that if your attempt be discovered, chains, imprisonment, and banishment, will infallibly be your lot: and for your reward, if you succeed, the utmost I can give, are my own and Azila’s grateful thanks. More she cannot give,” he added, as a blush rose, for a moment, on the youth’s dark cheek.
“I ask not for reward,” answered the youth. “It is but a debt of gratitude each man of the tribe owes to the young stranger; and I should be base if I were not ready to pay it: I will save him, or perish in the attempt.”
“I trust you fully, Javis,” said the chief; “and now we will call Azila to our conference.”
He beckoned his daughter to approach; and for a considerable time they held an earnest consultation together.
As they finished speaking, a boy ran in, to inform the chief that a stranger was approaching the encampment.
“I will speak with him,” said the chief.
In a few minutes the boy returned, accompanied by a peasant, whose weary and sorrowful appearance seemed to demand compassion.
“Who are you?” said the chief, eyeing him narrowly, and apparently satisfied with his scrutiny. “Who are you, who come uninvited among the people of Rommany? What do you seek with us?”
“If you are the person I take you to be, you shall presently know,” answered the peasant; “tell me, are you not that kind, honest Gipsy, who was once very civil to my master; my poor young master, whom I have been seeking all over the city, and can hear nothing of. Alas! alas! I fear that he is in great peril.”
“Who is your master?” asked the Gipsy; “when I know that, I may perhaps answer some of your questions.”
“My poor young master,” replied the peasant, who proved to be our old friend Karl, “is the son of Baron Galetzoff. Well, I was sent to Moscow to-day, and venturing to pay a visit to my young Lord, I heard that he had disappeared, nobody knows where. I have been seeking for him all day, in every place I could think of, and have now come to ask you, if you know any thing of him?”
“It is not my custom to answer the questions of those whom I do not know,” said the Gipsy. “Tell me, how came you to suppose, that I could tell you any thing of your master?”
“Why, for this reason,” said Karl; “I once heard my poor young master, and his friend Thaddeus Stanisloff, speak of a Zingani chief, who had promised to assist them, if they got into any difficulties. Well, as I was wandering about, and looking in search of my master, I saw some of the Rommany people; and I bethought me that I would come out here, and learn if their chief was in the neighbourhood, and if he knew any thing of my dear master.”
“Well, my good friend,” said the Gipsy, who was pleased with poor Karl’s simplicity and sincerity, “go back now to the city, and say not a word more of your master; but return here to-morrow, at day-break, and be careful that you are unobserved, and perhaps you may then see him.”
“Thanks, most kind and worthy Sir,” answered Karl, “you have made my heart light and happy again.”
He then took his leave, as desired, and returned to Moscow; where, as he was wandering about, looking into various shops, to pass the time, he met an acquaintance, to whom he could not resist giving the gratifying intelligence, that he had heard of his young master, the son of the Baron Galetzoff, as he still persisted in calling Ivan. He did not observe that a stranger was standing within ear-shot, at the time; but he soon found, to his cost, the effects of his thoughtless communication; for, within, an hour, he was seized by some of the police, and dragged immediately before a magistrate.
He was at first mildly interrogated respecting Ivan, in the hope of extracting some voluntary information from him. The magistrate then pressed him more severely, but discovered that the prisoner was a most difficult subject to exert his authority upon, and when sternly ordered to confess all he knew, he stoutly denied ever having received any information of the person in question.
Unfortunately, however, for poor Karl, his perseverance was of no avail to himself, for his acquaintance, who had confessed all he knew, was confronted with him. Another person was found, who proved that he was a serf of the Baron Galetzoff, and consequently must have known the son of that noble. His denial was therefore of no further service to him, and the next day, he was ordered before a criminal court then sitting, where for his contumacy in refusing to answer any questions, he was condemned forthwith to receive the punishment of the knout.
Poor Karl turned pale when he heard his sentence pronounced, but his courage did not forsake him, and he determined to undergo any torture, rather than betray his young master. He was dragged off, therefore, to receive his punishment, with two other criminals convicted of heinous crimes, and whose pallid countenances and trembling limbs, betokened their dread of the coming torture.
The place of execution and punishment is in an open space, outside one of the barriers of the city; and there a mob of skin-clad labourers and peasants had collected, as they saw the prisoners approach, conducted by their guards and the officers, whose duty it was to see that punishment was duly inflicted.
Even in Russia, the executioner or Palatch, as he is called, is looked upon with the same opprobrium and dislike as in most other countries, and he is always some criminal, still considered as a prisoner, but lodges by himself in a solitary house outside the gates of the city. Instances have occurred of criminals actually refusing the odious office, preferring, rather than undertake its cruel duties, the weary and toilsome journey to Siberia, with all the miseries and wretchedness incident to it, and an eternal banishment from their country.
The Palatch, on the present occasion, was a criminal sentenced for life to hard labour in the Siberian mines for murder. The mere appearance of this man, bespoke that savage disposition, which could find gratification in the exercise of his horrid occupation. Underneath his red tangled locks, a scowling forehead protruded, exhibiting beneath his rough eye-brows, a pair of bleared eyes; a flattish, turned up nose, was the only other feature to be seen on his face, his mouth being concealed by a mass of grizzly red hair, which covered the lower part of his face. Even the yoke-necked, slavish multitude, set up a shout of disgust, as the hated inflictor of cruelty appeared; but he seemed callous to their feelings, commencing the preparations for his loathsome office, with cool indifference.
The two real criminals were to suffer first, all three being stationed ready for punishment, in a conspicuous place. The first culprit was placed before an upright board, shaped like an inverted cone; in the upper or broad end of which are hollowed out three notches, the middle one being contrived to receive the neck of the culprit, and the other two the arms, which are securely bound; the legs being fastened to the bottom of the board. The upper part of the body is then stripped quite bare. These preparations being completed, the brutal executioner flourishes the knout round his head, and with tremendous force it descends on the back of the victim, horribly lacerating the flesh. The handle of the knout, is a thick stick eighteen inches long, to the end of which is fastened a twisted thong of leather, twice the length of the stick; and to the end of the thong again, there is a copper ring, through which is passed, with a slip knot, a double strap of leather, an inch broad near the ring, and tapering to a point near the running end; the straps being boiled in milk, to swell and harden them.
Poor Karl looked at this formidable weapon, in the hands of the executioner, with feelings of the most intense hatred; but even the shrieks of his precursors in suffering, as the lash descended on their backs, did not make him waver in his constancy. He was doomed to a still greater trial; for just before it became his turn to suffer, he heard a voice, calling out his name, proceeding apparently from a telga, which, with some others, had just left the gates of the city, and was quickly passing by. He turned round for an instant; and a glance of pleasure lit up his countenance, as he fancied that he recognised the voice: but instantly recollecting himself, he again hung down his head, and appeared to observe nothing around him, till the telga had driven rapidly away.
At length he was also lashed up for punishment; but he uttered not a groan, until nature almost gave way before the executioner had finished his hideous work, which he seemed to go through with greater zest, from the practice he had already had; as the wild beast, which has once tasted human blood, feels insatiate until he has gorged himself with it. Karl knew that at one moment he might have saved himself the torture inflicted upon him; but he willingly suffered without a complaint—a true specimen of the Russian national character, displaying sturdy fidelity and passive endurance, without an expectation or hope of reward.
As yet, he had not half expiated the crime he was charged with, and justice still retained him in her clutches. He was carried back to prison till his wounds were healed, at which period he was compelled to serve the Emperor as a soldier. The constant draft, which an unhealthy climate and the Circassian sabres made in the army of the Caucasus, necessitated the frequent incorporation of criminals in its ranks. With manacles on his hands and feet, he was marched off with others, formed into large bands, containing many volunteers, who were, however, treated in the same way, to prevent their escaping, lest they should change their minds.
Karl knew that it was useless to complain; and as he was of a contented and happy disposition, not much addicted to thinking, he determined to make the best of his lot. Fortunately for themselves, his companions also were blind to the hardships and miseries they would probably be compelled to undergo; although thus loaded like culprits with heavy chains, they passed their time in singing and laughter. As they marched on, their shouts of merriment rose to the skies, amid the clank of their chains, as if to mock the cruelty of their oppressors: the poor wretches being entirely ignorant of the blessings of freedom, and incapable of feeling their degradation, perhaps even incapacitated for thought! Such are now the only people in Europe who can securely be governed by despotism; and such are the senseless tools with which the mighty Czar of Russia works out his imperial will. What care they how many freemen they bring to a like state of bondage as their own? The yoke has so long pressed on their necks, that they heed not its galling weight; but like the patient oxen, they are content to be goaded on to their work, at their master’s will. This vast, soulless engine, is indeed of tremendous force; and has but too often been used to crush and overwhelm freedom, and to plant the banner of tyranny amid lands, where the flag of liberty has hitherto waved bright and unsullied.
Volume One—Chapter Seventeen.It was towards the close of the day, when a young and active peasant, who, contrary to the usual character of his class, was rather intelligent-looking, was slowly driving a small telga or wagon, filled apparently with hides and merchandise, at the end of a bye-way or narrow lane, at a point where it joined one of the principal roads leading from the south towards Moscow. Observing a cloud of dust rising in the distance, in a southerly direction, he drew up his telga, anxious to ascertain the cause of it. He presently found it to proceed from a long train of wagons, about twenty in number, mostly drawn by oxen, but others, of the same description as the vehicle he himself drove, drawn by horses. The drivers of the wagons were short, ugly-looking fellows, with sandy moustaches and beards, black woolly caps, sheep-skin jackets, the woolly side next the skin. Many of them were half asleep on the tops of their vehicles, trusting to the sagacity of their beasts; but it was now time to rouse themselves into activity, for they were approaching the end of their journey, on which perhaps they had come several hundred miles. Moscow, their bourne, was at hand.The young peasant joined in the line of the caravan, driving between the carts as if apparently he belonged to their party.Laughter and joking soon arose among the easily pleased wagoners, caused by his jests and stories; and, searching, under the hides which covered his cart, he produced a case of vodka, and a glass, which he filled with the much-prized liquor, handing it about to the people nearest to him. By this means, and from time to time also singing a song, he soon won all their hearts; the Russian peasants being as passionately fond of music, as they are addicted to vodka.“Jump up, my friend,” said he to one of the men trudging along-side, “you will find a better seat here than in your own wagon.”The man readily complied, and the young peasant began to ply him with a number of questions. In this way he learned that they were to remain only one day to rest their cattle, and to start on the following morning for the south. The information seemed to give him much satisfaction; and he intimated to his new friends, that he should wish to enter the city as one of their party, and to return at the same time with them, reminding them that he should not forget to fill his can of vodka.The lofty towers, and polished domes of Moscow now appeared in sight; and being allowed to pass the gates without hindrance, the caravan proceeded to the part of the city where that class of people chiefly congregate: the young peasant acting in every way like the rest of the party.After dark, however, giving his telga in charge to one of the wagoners, whom he had more particularly made his friend, he sallied forth into the still crowded and bustling streets, meeting parties of pleasure returning from the gardens in the neighbourhood. Rich nobles driving from one gay scene of dissipation to another; the military returning from relieving guard; drunken men of all classes, reeling home, attempting to support each other as they tottered against the door-posts; none of them, however, joining in bacchanalian songs, as in England and other countries; for the Russian, though a careless, light-hearted being, when sober, becomes when overpowered with liquor, a surly, morose animal, with all his worst passions aroused, and having no pretensions to enjoyment. This is too common a scene in Russia; but we should rather pity than blame such slavish beings, sunk so low in apathetic ignorance, and who are never taught to respect themselves.The peasant seemed well acquainted with the city; for without once deviating from his course, he quickly threaded its intricate streets. Whatever was his business, he soon performed it; and on his return, again joined the most convivial of his new friends, treating them from his can of vodka, and singing songs to them till late at night. The whole of the next day was spent by the carters in distributing the contents of their vehicles to their different destinations, and in reloading them with goods to convey to the south. The stranger peasant having likewise apparently disposed of his cargo, returned with a very light one, saying that he had a friend with a broken limb, whom he was anxious to convey to his home in the country.In the evening, he again unloaded his cart, leaving his goods under charge of his friend the carter, and drove away in the direction he had formerly taken; saying, before he went, that he should return with his maimed companion. He drove his light cart quickly along the streets, till he reached that part of the city before mentioned, as the neighbourhood of the place in which the conspirators held their meetings; when on his giving a low whistle, a lad sprang out from behind a wall, and taking the place of the peasant, drove slowly on, the other hastening to the door of the vault, in which Ivan had been so long concealed.“Is all safe?” he asked of the lad, who took his place. “Have you seen none of the cursed police in the neighbourhood?”“There is nothing to fear, and no one could pass near here, without my seeing or hearing them,” answered the boy.The peasant gave the peculiar knock at the door of the vault, which being opened by the old man, he immediately entered. No one appeared in sight, as the telga drove up to the nearest spot, by which the door could be approached; and without allowing it scarcely time to stop, the peasant and a gipsy were seen, bearing the body of a man, wrapped up in the folds of a peasant’s dress, his head bandaged so as completely to conceal his features. No sooner was he placed in the cart, reclining his whole length at the bottom, than the young peasant, again taking the reins, drove rapidly away. The old man was again left to his solitude, and the two gipsies hastened off in an opposite direction.The peasant proceeded quickly through the narrow and winding streets of the city; once or twice the police seeming inclined to stop him, but as he put on a careless air, whistling and singing as he drove along, they did not think it necessary to interrupt his progress. At length, however, an officer of police, in search of some of the conspirators, who had as yet escaped detection, ordered him in an authoritative tone to stop his telga. He instantly obeyed, uncovering the face of its occupant, and displaying a profusion of red shaggy locks, and large untrimmed beard; a cloth being bound round the head of the wounded man.The peasant’s volubility and frankness, seemed to convince the officer that there was no cause for suspicion, and he bid the former drive on, an order most promptly obeyed; until at length the peasant escaping all further impediments, reached the caravan party in safety.He was warmly welcomed by his friends, who were making merry over cans of their beloved quass and vodka; and having attended carefully to the comforts of his charge, whom he covered up in his wagon, he joined his comrades, and remained with them, until they stole off to rest in their carts, the young peasant rolling himself up beneath the shelter of his own telga.The next morning they were all astir; but it was some time before they were ready to begin their journey towards the south. The wounded man was able to sit up among the merchandise, with which the telga of the peasant was now loaded, the owner walking by its side; and as they passed the gates of the city, he had a joke for each of the guards, who after looking into each vehicle, allowed the caravan to pass on.At a short distance, outside the gates of the city, they observed a concourse of people assembled, when the wounded man inquired the cause of the crowd. “It is only because a few people are going to be knouted,” answered one of the drivers, taking it as a thing of course.As they passed close to the place of execution, the wounded man observed one of the unfortunate culprits standing in a conspicuous situation, just about to receive punishment. He uttered an exclamation, and seemed as if he would rush forward to the rescue of the criminal; but his weakness reminded him of his incapability even to walk, as with a look of indignant regret, he sank back on his seat. The young peasant, observing the movement, leaped quickly into the telga, urging on his horse at a faster speed.“Hist, Sir! hist! Would you spoil all, by want of caution?” he said, “nothing can save the poor fellow, and I know he would rather die than bring you into danger. The knowledge that you are safe will fully repay him.”The caravan had now proceeded on some way, clouds of dust obscuring the hateful scene from their eyes, and perchance, even among that servile band of drovers, many a breast might have heaved, indignant at the cruelty they had witnessed; for to their sorrow they knew, that the innocent too often suffered punishment, due alone to the guilty, yet none of them dared to utter their thoughts, even to their comrades. It was some time before the young peasant could resume his gaiety, as he returned to his post by the side of his telga; however, he at length began to talk and laugh as before, his light-hearted companions quickly dismissing all recollection of the scene they had witnessed.Some versts further on, after charging his comrades not to mention his having been with them, and receiving their cordial farewell, he drove away rapidly along the bye road which there presented itself.He was long remembered by that kind-hearted and simple race, in whose breasts enmity retains a slighter hold than gratitude and affection.The caravan had proceeded for about the space of an hour, along the road, when an alarm was given, that a party of mounted police were galloping after them. The emissaries of justice were soon among the wagoners, calling loudly to them to stop, striking at them with their thick whips, and demanding a culprit, who had escaped their vigilance. Though the sturdy carters could easily have overpowered their brutal assailants, not one attempted to make any resistance; but the young peasant reaped the reward of his address and wit, in conciliating them, for they one and all denied any knowledge of the person described, nor could additional blows gain any further information from them. The police, after bestowing a few parting stripes, returned the way they came; many a muttered curse followed them, the honest carters rejoicing that their friend had escaped, and piously crossing themselves, offered up many a hearty prayer for his ultimate escape.The peasant drove on, till he caught sight of the Gipsy encampment of our former friends, between whose tented walls he forthwith entered, and was received with a shout of congratulation by its swarthy inhabitants. The Zingani chief went forward to welcome the new-comers; a cry of pleasure escaping Azila, who timidly followed her father, as the wounded man was lifted from his conveyance; and he with the seeming peasant, throwing off their disguises, discovered to their assembled friends, Ivan and the young Gipsy Javis.The chief warmly welcomed Ivan, and congratulated Javis on the successful commencement of his undertaking, to which Azila added her own thanks. Ivan was then conducted to the principal tent, where the old crone Hagar, took the wounded man again under her surgical care, and from the effects of her healing remedies, he soon experienced relief.The chief took a seat by his side. “My daughter,” said he, “could not venture again into the city, to aid your escape as she wished, having as we have reason to know, been already suspected by the police of being concerned in the late conspiracy; and as you well know, suspicion is sufficient to condemn a person in this country, of a political crime.”“I trust, my friend, to be soon able to relieve you from the danger you run in sheltering me,” said Ivan.“Not until you are sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey, will we allow you to depart,” answered the Gipsy, “and then I have hopes, that by the talents and ingenuity of Javis, you will entirely escape from the power of your enemies.”While this conversation was going forward, a man who had been sent out as a scout, hastened into the tent, to say that he had seen a party of the police, galloping on the high road towards the south, in the direction the caravan had taken which Javis had just left.“Ah!” said the chief, “you have had a narrow escape, Sir, but I have my hopes that the police will lose their scent, and I trust that we are not yet suspected. We will, however, move our camp as quickly as possible towards the south, where we may be more secure from their interference.”
It was towards the close of the day, when a young and active peasant, who, contrary to the usual character of his class, was rather intelligent-looking, was slowly driving a small telga or wagon, filled apparently with hides and merchandise, at the end of a bye-way or narrow lane, at a point where it joined one of the principal roads leading from the south towards Moscow. Observing a cloud of dust rising in the distance, in a southerly direction, he drew up his telga, anxious to ascertain the cause of it. He presently found it to proceed from a long train of wagons, about twenty in number, mostly drawn by oxen, but others, of the same description as the vehicle he himself drove, drawn by horses. The drivers of the wagons were short, ugly-looking fellows, with sandy moustaches and beards, black woolly caps, sheep-skin jackets, the woolly side next the skin. Many of them were half asleep on the tops of their vehicles, trusting to the sagacity of their beasts; but it was now time to rouse themselves into activity, for they were approaching the end of their journey, on which perhaps they had come several hundred miles. Moscow, their bourne, was at hand.
The young peasant joined in the line of the caravan, driving between the carts as if apparently he belonged to their party.
Laughter and joking soon arose among the easily pleased wagoners, caused by his jests and stories; and, searching, under the hides which covered his cart, he produced a case of vodka, and a glass, which he filled with the much-prized liquor, handing it about to the people nearest to him. By this means, and from time to time also singing a song, he soon won all their hearts; the Russian peasants being as passionately fond of music, as they are addicted to vodka.
“Jump up, my friend,” said he to one of the men trudging along-side, “you will find a better seat here than in your own wagon.”
The man readily complied, and the young peasant began to ply him with a number of questions. In this way he learned that they were to remain only one day to rest their cattle, and to start on the following morning for the south. The information seemed to give him much satisfaction; and he intimated to his new friends, that he should wish to enter the city as one of their party, and to return at the same time with them, reminding them that he should not forget to fill his can of vodka.
The lofty towers, and polished domes of Moscow now appeared in sight; and being allowed to pass the gates without hindrance, the caravan proceeded to the part of the city where that class of people chiefly congregate: the young peasant acting in every way like the rest of the party.
After dark, however, giving his telga in charge to one of the wagoners, whom he had more particularly made his friend, he sallied forth into the still crowded and bustling streets, meeting parties of pleasure returning from the gardens in the neighbourhood. Rich nobles driving from one gay scene of dissipation to another; the military returning from relieving guard; drunken men of all classes, reeling home, attempting to support each other as they tottered against the door-posts; none of them, however, joining in bacchanalian songs, as in England and other countries; for the Russian, though a careless, light-hearted being, when sober, becomes when overpowered with liquor, a surly, morose animal, with all his worst passions aroused, and having no pretensions to enjoyment. This is too common a scene in Russia; but we should rather pity than blame such slavish beings, sunk so low in apathetic ignorance, and who are never taught to respect themselves.
The peasant seemed well acquainted with the city; for without once deviating from his course, he quickly threaded its intricate streets. Whatever was his business, he soon performed it; and on his return, again joined the most convivial of his new friends, treating them from his can of vodka, and singing songs to them till late at night. The whole of the next day was spent by the carters in distributing the contents of their vehicles to their different destinations, and in reloading them with goods to convey to the south. The stranger peasant having likewise apparently disposed of his cargo, returned with a very light one, saying that he had a friend with a broken limb, whom he was anxious to convey to his home in the country.
In the evening, he again unloaded his cart, leaving his goods under charge of his friend the carter, and drove away in the direction he had formerly taken; saying, before he went, that he should return with his maimed companion. He drove his light cart quickly along the streets, till he reached that part of the city before mentioned, as the neighbourhood of the place in which the conspirators held their meetings; when on his giving a low whistle, a lad sprang out from behind a wall, and taking the place of the peasant, drove slowly on, the other hastening to the door of the vault, in which Ivan had been so long concealed.
“Is all safe?” he asked of the lad, who took his place. “Have you seen none of the cursed police in the neighbourhood?”
“There is nothing to fear, and no one could pass near here, without my seeing or hearing them,” answered the boy.
The peasant gave the peculiar knock at the door of the vault, which being opened by the old man, he immediately entered. No one appeared in sight, as the telga drove up to the nearest spot, by which the door could be approached; and without allowing it scarcely time to stop, the peasant and a gipsy were seen, bearing the body of a man, wrapped up in the folds of a peasant’s dress, his head bandaged so as completely to conceal his features. No sooner was he placed in the cart, reclining his whole length at the bottom, than the young peasant, again taking the reins, drove rapidly away. The old man was again left to his solitude, and the two gipsies hastened off in an opposite direction.
The peasant proceeded quickly through the narrow and winding streets of the city; once or twice the police seeming inclined to stop him, but as he put on a careless air, whistling and singing as he drove along, they did not think it necessary to interrupt his progress. At length, however, an officer of police, in search of some of the conspirators, who had as yet escaped detection, ordered him in an authoritative tone to stop his telga. He instantly obeyed, uncovering the face of its occupant, and displaying a profusion of red shaggy locks, and large untrimmed beard; a cloth being bound round the head of the wounded man.
The peasant’s volubility and frankness, seemed to convince the officer that there was no cause for suspicion, and he bid the former drive on, an order most promptly obeyed; until at length the peasant escaping all further impediments, reached the caravan party in safety.
He was warmly welcomed by his friends, who were making merry over cans of their beloved quass and vodka; and having attended carefully to the comforts of his charge, whom he covered up in his wagon, he joined his comrades, and remained with them, until they stole off to rest in their carts, the young peasant rolling himself up beneath the shelter of his own telga.
The next morning they were all astir; but it was some time before they were ready to begin their journey towards the south. The wounded man was able to sit up among the merchandise, with which the telga of the peasant was now loaded, the owner walking by its side; and as they passed the gates of the city, he had a joke for each of the guards, who after looking into each vehicle, allowed the caravan to pass on.
At a short distance, outside the gates of the city, they observed a concourse of people assembled, when the wounded man inquired the cause of the crowd. “It is only because a few people are going to be knouted,” answered one of the drivers, taking it as a thing of course.
As they passed close to the place of execution, the wounded man observed one of the unfortunate culprits standing in a conspicuous situation, just about to receive punishment. He uttered an exclamation, and seemed as if he would rush forward to the rescue of the criminal; but his weakness reminded him of his incapability even to walk, as with a look of indignant regret, he sank back on his seat. The young peasant, observing the movement, leaped quickly into the telga, urging on his horse at a faster speed.
“Hist, Sir! hist! Would you spoil all, by want of caution?” he said, “nothing can save the poor fellow, and I know he would rather die than bring you into danger. The knowledge that you are safe will fully repay him.”
The caravan had now proceeded on some way, clouds of dust obscuring the hateful scene from their eyes, and perchance, even among that servile band of drovers, many a breast might have heaved, indignant at the cruelty they had witnessed; for to their sorrow they knew, that the innocent too often suffered punishment, due alone to the guilty, yet none of them dared to utter their thoughts, even to their comrades. It was some time before the young peasant could resume his gaiety, as he returned to his post by the side of his telga; however, he at length began to talk and laugh as before, his light-hearted companions quickly dismissing all recollection of the scene they had witnessed.
Some versts further on, after charging his comrades not to mention his having been with them, and receiving their cordial farewell, he drove away rapidly along the bye road which there presented itself.
He was long remembered by that kind-hearted and simple race, in whose breasts enmity retains a slighter hold than gratitude and affection.
The caravan had proceeded for about the space of an hour, along the road, when an alarm was given, that a party of mounted police were galloping after them. The emissaries of justice were soon among the wagoners, calling loudly to them to stop, striking at them with their thick whips, and demanding a culprit, who had escaped their vigilance. Though the sturdy carters could easily have overpowered their brutal assailants, not one attempted to make any resistance; but the young peasant reaped the reward of his address and wit, in conciliating them, for they one and all denied any knowledge of the person described, nor could additional blows gain any further information from them. The police, after bestowing a few parting stripes, returned the way they came; many a muttered curse followed them, the honest carters rejoicing that their friend had escaped, and piously crossing themselves, offered up many a hearty prayer for his ultimate escape.
The peasant drove on, till he caught sight of the Gipsy encampment of our former friends, between whose tented walls he forthwith entered, and was received with a shout of congratulation by its swarthy inhabitants. The Zingani chief went forward to welcome the new-comers; a cry of pleasure escaping Azila, who timidly followed her father, as the wounded man was lifted from his conveyance; and he with the seeming peasant, throwing off their disguises, discovered to their assembled friends, Ivan and the young Gipsy Javis.
The chief warmly welcomed Ivan, and congratulated Javis on the successful commencement of his undertaking, to which Azila added her own thanks. Ivan was then conducted to the principal tent, where the old crone Hagar, took the wounded man again under her surgical care, and from the effects of her healing remedies, he soon experienced relief.
The chief took a seat by his side. “My daughter,” said he, “could not venture again into the city, to aid your escape as she wished, having as we have reason to know, been already suspected by the police of being concerned in the late conspiracy; and as you well know, suspicion is sufficient to condemn a person in this country, of a political crime.”
“I trust, my friend, to be soon able to relieve you from the danger you run in sheltering me,” said Ivan.
“Not until you are sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey, will we allow you to depart,” answered the Gipsy, “and then I have hopes, that by the talents and ingenuity of Javis, you will entirely escape from the power of your enemies.”
While this conversation was going forward, a man who had been sent out as a scout, hastened into the tent, to say that he had seen a party of the police, galloping on the high road towards the south, in the direction the caravan had taken which Javis had just left.
“Ah!” said the chief, “you have had a narrow escape, Sir, but I have my hopes that the police will lose their scent, and I trust that we are not yet suspected. We will, however, move our camp as quickly as possible towards the south, where we may be more secure from their interference.”
Volume One—Chapter Eighteen.We must now refer back for a short period, to the morning on which the Count Erintoff learned, from public rumour, that a dreadful murder had been committed, on some one who could not be recognised, owing to the mangled state of his features, and to the absence of any papers or valuables upon the body by which it could be known.The Count congratulated himself that he had at length got rid of one, whom he most deeply hated; looking upon him as his rival in Azila’s love; and he now therefore anticipated an easy conquest of the beautiful Gipsy girl. He was however, not aware that she had been made fully acquainted, not only with his views towards herself, but with his intention of causing Ivan’s assassination.It will be remembered that there were two Gipsy boys, whom Groff had kept in the palace for the purpose of enticing Azila thither; these lads were, by the Count’s orders, afterwards allowed to remain, in the hope of again attracting her there. None of their tribe, however, seemed to take any notice of them; the wounded boy remaining in bed, and the other who appeared to be dull and heavy was suffered to wander about the house, at will. The Count little thinking at the time, that he was an active, intelligent spy, whom Azila, profiting by the accident which had introduced them to the palace, had purposely left there to discover and report all the Count’s movements.The Count being convinced of Ivan’s death, when Groff presented himself to claim the wages of blood, gladly paid the money, and then bethought himself of some plan, to make the most advantageous use of the papers he had become possessed of. They clearly proved the existence of some conspiracy, but of what nature or extent he could not tell; and he began to consider whether or no, he had not better make further discoveries, before he communicated it to the government. He ordered Groff, therefore, to watch the neighbourhood of the place, to learn if others assembled there; an office the wretch was very unwilling to perform; a horror seizing him as he approached the spot, where he had committed the murder, and driving him away, so that he brought back word to his master that he had seen no one.The Count’s rage and disappointment was excessive, when on the morning of Ivan’s return to Moscow, he heard, by chance, that it was suspected the Count Flatoff was the person murdered, and on making particular inquiries at Ivan’s hotel, he was informed that on the night of the murder, he suddenly departed for the country. This, it will be remembered, was the very time when he was summoned to attend the death-bed of his mother, owing to which he escaped the fate intended for him.He therefore stationed Groff to watch for his return, to bring him instant information, determining this time to glut his vengeance with his own hands. Groff had not long to wait before Ivan returned, when he hastened with the intelligence to his master.The Count ordered him to arm himself with a sword, and to return to watch Ivan’s movements, in case he should visit the place of meeting; then taking Kruntz with him, also well armed, he himself repaired to the neighbourhood. He then informed the chief officer of police, that he suspected some plot was on foot, desiring that some of the subordinates might accompany him, in case his suspicions proved correct. His plan was, to attack Ivan under the pretext of arresting him, and to kill him when he attempted to defend himself, as he had no doubt he would do. This purpose, he communicated to his two worthy followers, but it was fortunately overheard by the young Gipsy spy, who had concealed himself in the apartment, and as soon as the lad was able to make his escape, he communicated the information to Azila, who was waiting for him.The Count’s arrangements occupied some time, so that Ivan had left the place of meeting before the police had arrived, and the Count was but just in time to encounter him. His fury and disappointment were doubly increased at finding himself again foiled in his purpose; his only satisfaction being in the death of Groff, who was in possession of some rather dangerous secrets. How much greater was his rage, when on returning with the police, he found that his prey had escaped him altogether. He eagerly joined in the search, urging on the police to their work, but to no purpose, until baffled and enraged, he returned to his palace, resolving not to rest until he had discovered his rival, and obtained possession of Azila. In order to accomplish the first of these objects, he instituted inquiries in every direction, sending out spies with promises of rewards, if they should discover the traitor, he himself again joining in the search. On inquiring for the Gipsy boys, in order to ascertain where Azila was to be found, he learned that they had both escaped, no one could tell how or when. Of Azila, he could not hear anything, as she had not again appeared in the city.At all points, he seemed doomed to be disappointed in his vile purposes, when early one day, he heard that a telga had been seen on the previous evening, coming from the direction of the place where the conspirators had held their meetings; and taking the hint, he repaired thither with some of the police. They went directly to the vault of the old man, who had been previously suspected. The wretched inmate was dragged from his abode, and on refusing to answer the questions put to him, which might betray his late guest, he was sentenced to receive the punishment of the knout. The sentence was carried into execution. The old man sunk under it; he died unknown, and unmourned.The police, however, traced the telga to the place where Javis had passed the night, and finding that a caravan had set out that morning, some of their mounted comrades were sent in pursuit. As we have before stated, they arrived after Javis had driven away, and were again at fault, not knowing what course to pursue; for they were now persuaded that they had been led on a wrong scent.Count Erintoff at length almost despaired of wreaking his vengeance on Ivan, until, in his inquiries for Azila, he learned that she had been implicated in the conspiracy, and it then occurred to him, that she might have been the companion of his flight. He learned also, that the very tribe of gipsies, to which he knew Azila belonged, had lately been in the neighbourhood of Moscow, though the police were not aware of the fact, and that they had moved towards the south soon after the conspiracy had been discovered. Connecting all these circumstances together, his hopes of gaining possession of Azila, and of punishing his enemy, were again raised. On his giving, therefore, the information he had gained to the police, a party of that force was ordered to attend him. He now felt certain that they could no longer escape; indulging his mind with the thoughts of vengeance, and the success of his passion. He easily traced the route the Gipsies had taken, following up each of their day’s journeys, which he was enabled to accomplish in a much shorter time than they had done. With savage delight at his expected triumph, he caught sight of the tents of the Gipsy encampment; when ordering some of the police to watch well that none escaped, he with the rest, confiding in the power and terror of the legal authority they possessed, rushed into the centre of the encampment. The gipsies appeared to be completely taken by surprise, the women crowding together in alarm, and the men starting on their feet, and advancing to meet the intruders.The chief came out of his tent, as if just aroused from sleep.“On what account,” he demanded, “is the quiet and order of my camp thus suddenly broken into by the police? Who is it you seek here?”“The traitor Ivan Galetzoff, and a Gipsy female called Azila,” said the Count; “and if they are not delivered into our hands, you shall suffer.”“Ah!” exclaimed the chief, starting and eyeing the Count narrowly, “I have no one here among my people, of that name.”“You refuse then to deliver up those we are in search of,” said the Count. “Examine the tents,” he exclaimed to his followers; who immediately commenced pulling them down, strewing the contents in all directions on the ground. The Gipsies looked on at the work of destruction with sullen indifference; neither interfering, or offering any resistance to prevent the injury committed; for the police wantonly cut the ropes of the tents, broke open the chests, turned the animals adrift, as they examined the vehicles; so that in a few minutes from the time they entered the encampment, where the quiet circle of tents then stood, there was now a scene of confusion and disorder. Yet it was of no effect, for their intended prisoners could no where be found.“You have set at defiance the Emperor’s authority,” said the Count, addressing the Zingani chief, “and must take the consequences. I arrest you in the name of the Czar.”“What, has the noble Count Erintoff turned police officer, as well as assassin?” exclaimed the chief. “I fear you not, Count. Either let me go free, or take the consequences. The murderer of the Count Flatoff is known,” he added, stepping closer up to him. “I well know your motives, Count; but will not interfere, while you attempt not to injure me or mine. I am your prisoner if you wish.”The Count turned pale with rage and fear. He felt that he was entirely in the power of the bold Gipsy, should he not succeed in destroying him at once, and that he could not hope to do in the midst of his people, when no resistance was offered. The only alternative was to make him his friend, for he saw that terror was not likely to influence him. The Count, therefore, pretended to be satisfied that the people he sought were not among the Gipsies; hoping, by throwing them off their guard, to pounce upon them when unprepared, and intending to take the first opportunity of crushing: one who had a secret of such importance to him in his possession. He feared too, that the accusation would lead to further inquiries as to the means by which he became possessed of the papers, and how he gained his information of the conspiracy, for he knew there were already some causes of suspicion existing against him. Secretly vowing vengeance therefore, he ordered the police to remount, and accompany him in a further search he meditated making, being convinced that the fugitives were at no great distance.The Gipsies saw their enemies depart, with bitter feelings of vengeance towards them, as they set about repairing the wanton damage they had sustained, while the latter rode on their way; the Count being resolved to accuse the Gipsy of having, like his daughter, given his assistance to the late conspiracy, hoping thus to crush him, without danger to himself, knowing that the first accusation has always the greatest weight. How he succeeded will be seen hereafter.The Count did not gain the reward he expected for the discovery of the conspiracy; it being strongly suspected, that he would have kept it concealed completely, had he not been instigated by some motive advantageous to himself. Instead therefore of receiving some lucrative office, or of being raised to a higher dignity in rank, the Emperor fully appreciated his motives, and giving him the credit of believing that if it had been to his interest, he would have joined the conspiracy without scruple, appointed him to the command of a regiment in the army of the Caucasus, hoping thus to get rid of a troublesome and suspected subject. As the Count had a short time before reached the rank of Colonel; this order could not appear singular; and although he well understood the reasons of his appointment, he had no alternative but to obey.The regiment which the Count Erintoff commanded, was one of those forming a brigade under the orders of the Baron Galetzoff, destined for the army of the Caucasus, now marching towards the south, to embark for the opposite coast. Levies had been raised in all directions, the recruits as soon as collected being marched off to the depots in the south, to join an army with which the Emperor had determined to overwhelm and crush his mountain opponents of Circassia; and no one exulted more in the prospect of carrying fire and sword into the country of his detested enemies, than the Baron Galetzoff, as he reviewed his well-equipped though mostly newly raised troops.Under his standard were collected the short hardy natives of the north, Cossacks from the banks of the Don, and Volga; regiments of enslaved Poles, now fighting by the side of their conquerors; some few cavalry, whom the Russians called Circassians, but who were, in truth, men collected from the confines of the Caucasus; Georgians, Immeritians, Mingrelians; but not one who could boast of true Circassian descent.With these troops was also the regiment to which Thaddeus Stanisloff was attached, he being obliged to leave Moscow ignorant of the fate of his friend; and many a long day passed, without his receiving any tidings of him. Absence did not however diminish his friendship, or his regret at their separation. Though under the orders of the Baron Galetzoff, it was long before he came in contact with him; he heard it reported, that there was no one so bitter against the defection of his supposed son, or more eager in endeavouring to apprehend him, vowing that he should be punished as a traitor and renegade, if he fell into his power.
We must now refer back for a short period, to the morning on which the Count Erintoff learned, from public rumour, that a dreadful murder had been committed, on some one who could not be recognised, owing to the mangled state of his features, and to the absence of any papers or valuables upon the body by which it could be known.
The Count congratulated himself that he had at length got rid of one, whom he most deeply hated; looking upon him as his rival in Azila’s love; and he now therefore anticipated an easy conquest of the beautiful Gipsy girl. He was however, not aware that she had been made fully acquainted, not only with his views towards herself, but with his intention of causing Ivan’s assassination.
It will be remembered that there were two Gipsy boys, whom Groff had kept in the palace for the purpose of enticing Azila thither; these lads were, by the Count’s orders, afterwards allowed to remain, in the hope of again attracting her there. None of their tribe, however, seemed to take any notice of them; the wounded boy remaining in bed, and the other who appeared to be dull and heavy was suffered to wander about the house, at will. The Count little thinking at the time, that he was an active, intelligent spy, whom Azila, profiting by the accident which had introduced them to the palace, had purposely left there to discover and report all the Count’s movements.
The Count being convinced of Ivan’s death, when Groff presented himself to claim the wages of blood, gladly paid the money, and then bethought himself of some plan, to make the most advantageous use of the papers he had become possessed of. They clearly proved the existence of some conspiracy, but of what nature or extent he could not tell; and he began to consider whether or no, he had not better make further discoveries, before he communicated it to the government. He ordered Groff, therefore, to watch the neighbourhood of the place, to learn if others assembled there; an office the wretch was very unwilling to perform; a horror seizing him as he approached the spot, where he had committed the murder, and driving him away, so that he brought back word to his master that he had seen no one.
The Count’s rage and disappointment was excessive, when on the morning of Ivan’s return to Moscow, he heard, by chance, that it was suspected the Count Flatoff was the person murdered, and on making particular inquiries at Ivan’s hotel, he was informed that on the night of the murder, he suddenly departed for the country. This, it will be remembered, was the very time when he was summoned to attend the death-bed of his mother, owing to which he escaped the fate intended for him.
He therefore stationed Groff to watch for his return, to bring him instant information, determining this time to glut his vengeance with his own hands. Groff had not long to wait before Ivan returned, when he hastened with the intelligence to his master.
The Count ordered him to arm himself with a sword, and to return to watch Ivan’s movements, in case he should visit the place of meeting; then taking Kruntz with him, also well armed, he himself repaired to the neighbourhood. He then informed the chief officer of police, that he suspected some plot was on foot, desiring that some of the subordinates might accompany him, in case his suspicions proved correct. His plan was, to attack Ivan under the pretext of arresting him, and to kill him when he attempted to defend himself, as he had no doubt he would do. This purpose, he communicated to his two worthy followers, but it was fortunately overheard by the young Gipsy spy, who had concealed himself in the apartment, and as soon as the lad was able to make his escape, he communicated the information to Azila, who was waiting for him.
The Count’s arrangements occupied some time, so that Ivan had left the place of meeting before the police had arrived, and the Count was but just in time to encounter him. His fury and disappointment were doubly increased at finding himself again foiled in his purpose; his only satisfaction being in the death of Groff, who was in possession of some rather dangerous secrets. How much greater was his rage, when on returning with the police, he found that his prey had escaped him altogether. He eagerly joined in the search, urging on the police to their work, but to no purpose, until baffled and enraged, he returned to his palace, resolving not to rest until he had discovered his rival, and obtained possession of Azila. In order to accomplish the first of these objects, he instituted inquiries in every direction, sending out spies with promises of rewards, if they should discover the traitor, he himself again joining in the search. On inquiring for the Gipsy boys, in order to ascertain where Azila was to be found, he learned that they had both escaped, no one could tell how or when. Of Azila, he could not hear anything, as she had not again appeared in the city.
At all points, he seemed doomed to be disappointed in his vile purposes, when early one day, he heard that a telga had been seen on the previous evening, coming from the direction of the place where the conspirators had held their meetings; and taking the hint, he repaired thither with some of the police. They went directly to the vault of the old man, who had been previously suspected. The wretched inmate was dragged from his abode, and on refusing to answer the questions put to him, which might betray his late guest, he was sentenced to receive the punishment of the knout. The sentence was carried into execution. The old man sunk under it; he died unknown, and unmourned.
The police, however, traced the telga to the place where Javis had passed the night, and finding that a caravan had set out that morning, some of their mounted comrades were sent in pursuit. As we have before stated, they arrived after Javis had driven away, and were again at fault, not knowing what course to pursue; for they were now persuaded that they had been led on a wrong scent.
Count Erintoff at length almost despaired of wreaking his vengeance on Ivan, until, in his inquiries for Azila, he learned that she had been implicated in the conspiracy, and it then occurred to him, that she might have been the companion of his flight. He learned also, that the very tribe of gipsies, to which he knew Azila belonged, had lately been in the neighbourhood of Moscow, though the police were not aware of the fact, and that they had moved towards the south soon after the conspiracy had been discovered. Connecting all these circumstances together, his hopes of gaining possession of Azila, and of punishing his enemy, were again raised. On his giving, therefore, the information he had gained to the police, a party of that force was ordered to attend him. He now felt certain that they could no longer escape; indulging his mind with the thoughts of vengeance, and the success of his passion. He easily traced the route the Gipsies had taken, following up each of their day’s journeys, which he was enabled to accomplish in a much shorter time than they had done. With savage delight at his expected triumph, he caught sight of the tents of the Gipsy encampment; when ordering some of the police to watch well that none escaped, he with the rest, confiding in the power and terror of the legal authority they possessed, rushed into the centre of the encampment. The gipsies appeared to be completely taken by surprise, the women crowding together in alarm, and the men starting on their feet, and advancing to meet the intruders.
The chief came out of his tent, as if just aroused from sleep.
“On what account,” he demanded, “is the quiet and order of my camp thus suddenly broken into by the police? Who is it you seek here?”
“The traitor Ivan Galetzoff, and a Gipsy female called Azila,” said the Count; “and if they are not delivered into our hands, you shall suffer.”
“Ah!” exclaimed the chief, starting and eyeing the Count narrowly, “I have no one here among my people, of that name.”
“You refuse then to deliver up those we are in search of,” said the Count. “Examine the tents,” he exclaimed to his followers; who immediately commenced pulling them down, strewing the contents in all directions on the ground. The Gipsies looked on at the work of destruction with sullen indifference; neither interfering, or offering any resistance to prevent the injury committed; for the police wantonly cut the ropes of the tents, broke open the chests, turned the animals adrift, as they examined the vehicles; so that in a few minutes from the time they entered the encampment, where the quiet circle of tents then stood, there was now a scene of confusion and disorder. Yet it was of no effect, for their intended prisoners could no where be found.
“You have set at defiance the Emperor’s authority,” said the Count, addressing the Zingani chief, “and must take the consequences. I arrest you in the name of the Czar.”
“What, has the noble Count Erintoff turned police officer, as well as assassin?” exclaimed the chief. “I fear you not, Count. Either let me go free, or take the consequences. The murderer of the Count Flatoff is known,” he added, stepping closer up to him. “I well know your motives, Count; but will not interfere, while you attempt not to injure me or mine. I am your prisoner if you wish.”
The Count turned pale with rage and fear. He felt that he was entirely in the power of the bold Gipsy, should he not succeed in destroying him at once, and that he could not hope to do in the midst of his people, when no resistance was offered. The only alternative was to make him his friend, for he saw that terror was not likely to influence him. The Count, therefore, pretended to be satisfied that the people he sought were not among the Gipsies; hoping, by throwing them off their guard, to pounce upon them when unprepared, and intending to take the first opportunity of crushing: one who had a secret of such importance to him in his possession. He feared too, that the accusation would lead to further inquiries as to the means by which he became possessed of the papers, and how he gained his information of the conspiracy, for he knew there were already some causes of suspicion existing against him. Secretly vowing vengeance therefore, he ordered the police to remount, and accompany him in a further search he meditated making, being convinced that the fugitives were at no great distance.
The Gipsies saw their enemies depart, with bitter feelings of vengeance towards them, as they set about repairing the wanton damage they had sustained, while the latter rode on their way; the Count being resolved to accuse the Gipsy of having, like his daughter, given his assistance to the late conspiracy, hoping thus to crush him, without danger to himself, knowing that the first accusation has always the greatest weight. How he succeeded will be seen hereafter.
The Count did not gain the reward he expected for the discovery of the conspiracy; it being strongly suspected, that he would have kept it concealed completely, had he not been instigated by some motive advantageous to himself. Instead therefore of receiving some lucrative office, or of being raised to a higher dignity in rank, the Emperor fully appreciated his motives, and giving him the credit of believing that if it had been to his interest, he would have joined the conspiracy without scruple, appointed him to the command of a regiment in the army of the Caucasus, hoping thus to get rid of a troublesome and suspected subject. As the Count had a short time before reached the rank of Colonel; this order could not appear singular; and although he well understood the reasons of his appointment, he had no alternative but to obey.
The regiment which the Count Erintoff commanded, was one of those forming a brigade under the orders of the Baron Galetzoff, destined for the army of the Caucasus, now marching towards the south, to embark for the opposite coast. Levies had been raised in all directions, the recruits as soon as collected being marched off to the depots in the south, to join an army with which the Emperor had determined to overwhelm and crush his mountain opponents of Circassia; and no one exulted more in the prospect of carrying fire and sword into the country of his detested enemies, than the Baron Galetzoff, as he reviewed his well-equipped though mostly newly raised troops.
Under his standard were collected the short hardy natives of the north, Cossacks from the banks of the Don, and Volga; regiments of enslaved Poles, now fighting by the side of their conquerors; some few cavalry, whom the Russians called Circassians, but who were, in truth, men collected from the confines of the Caucasus; Georgians, Immeritians, Mingrelians; but not one who could boast of true Circassian descent.
With these troops was also the regiment to which Thaddeus Stanisloff was attached, he being obliged to leave Moscow ignorant of the fate of his friend; and many a long day passed, without his receiving any tidings of him. Absence did not however diminish his friendship, or his regret at their separation. Though under the orders of the Baron Galetzoff, it was long before he came in contact with him; he heard it reported, that there was no one so bitter against the defection of his supposed son, or more eager in endeavouring to apprehend him, vowing that he should be punished as a traitor and renegade, if he fell into his power.
Volume One—Chapter Nineteen.It was now the beautiful, balmy, and genial month of a Russian June, all nature rejoicing, clothed in one entire bright livery of green, fresh from the new bursting buds, yet unseared by the burning heats of summer, like the beauteous maiden just ripened into perfect womanhood, surrounded with a halo of freshness and purity, ere the blasts and scorching atmosphere of the cruel world have had time to obscure the one or sully the other.A few days had been passed by Ivan in the Gipsy camp, with but slow progress; each day, however, contributing to his strength. At length he declared himself sufficiently recovered to undertake the more difficult and dangerous part of his journey on foot; so eagerly burning was he with the desire of reaching the place of his destination, to fulfil the vow he had taken at the death-bed of his mother.Azila had been his constant attendant, enlivening him with her conversation, and soothing him with her attentions; but so completely were his thoughts occupied with the events which had occurred, and especially with those to which he was looking forward, that no other sentiment entered his heart. That lovely being, day by day, sat by his side, watching anxiously each look, listening eagerly to each word he uttered, yet he loved not. He felt sincere gratitude to her as the preserver of his life, he would have again risked his own to aid her; but no other feeling excited his bosom. And she—so proud, so indifferent as she had shewn herself to be, towards the Count Erintoff, could she give her love to one from whom she could scarce hope for a return. The hearts of women are uncertain, incomprehensible, inscrutable, and we will not venture to pronounce by what special agency Azila’s was influenced.Ivan was much indebted to old Hagar for his rapid recovery, though it was some time before she would give her consent to his eager wish to quit her care.On the last day’s journey, as he was riding among the Gipsies, dressed in the costume of the rest of the party, the chief unfolded the plan he had formed to enable him to make his further escape from the empire.“At this time of the year,” said the Zingani chief, “thousands of pilgrims flock from all parts of the empire, to what they superstitiously call their holy city of Chioff, and I propose that you should first repair thither with Javis, who is intimately acquainted with every part of the country, as your guide, both of you disguised as peasants performing the pilgrimage, for which I have provided every thing necessary. Should you, by any chance, be again followed, among the vast crowds who are now assembling at Chioff, you will find more facilities for preventing all clue of your route being discovered. After you have passed through the city, you and your guide may assume the character of pilgrims, returning from thence, towards their habitations on the confines of the country. I have sent forward a messenger to some friends of our people, who are now near the place where you will find the least danger in crossing the frontiers into Moldavia, to which Javis will lead you; and our people there, will afford you assistance should you require it. I must now ride forward to select a spot for our encampment; I wish to keep as much as possible concealed from all passers by, for we know not who may prove an enemy among them.” Saying which, the Gipsy chief rode on.We must observe that the Zingani party had been travelling as much as practicable across the country, keeping all the bye roads and lanes, and avoiding all communications with the villages, near which they were at times obliged to pass.As they journeyed on, Ivan rode up to the side of Azila, for the maiden seemed sad and dispirited. After some other conversation—“You go, Sir,” said she, “amid scenes of excitement and of wild strife, where all your thoughts and hopes are centered, and where you will soon forget those you leave behind, those who would have died to serve you; but believe me, there is one who will never forget your aid, nor your bravery in her defence; who—”“Neither can I ever forget one to whom I owe my life and liberty,” he exclaimed; “nay, much more: who will have enabled me to fulfil, I hope, a deep sworn vow, the accomplishment of which I have so rashly hazarded.”Their conversation was here interrupted by the return of the Zingani chief, who rode to Ivan’s side.Early the following day, Ivan and his guide sallied from a tent, so completely changed in appearance, that no one could possibly have recognised in the two old peasants, they now seemed to be, the dark featured, handsome young men they really were. Their very skin had been tinged of a reddish hue, with wrinkles on their brows and cheeks; while red shaggy locks sprinkled with white, covered their own dark hair, and long full beards of the same colour fell over their breasts to the waist, large low hats still more concealing their countenances. They wore long dark coloured gowns, and sheep-skin coats: rough boots of untanned leather protected their feet, and by their side hung wallets to contain their food. In their hands they bore thick sticks, ostensibly to support their tottering steps, but really to serve as a means of defence, in case of necessity.Thus equipped, when ready to depart, the Zingani chief embraced them both, bestowing on them the peculiar blessings of his people, and charging Javis with many injunctions for the guidance of his conduct on their journey. The whole tribe assembled to bid them farewell, the old crone Hagar calling down curses on all who should impede them in their progress, and blessings on the heads of all who favoured them.Azila alone was no where to be seen; and feelings which Ivan could scarcely acknowledge, even to himself, prevented him from asking for her, till the last moment. The chief, on missing Azila, sent in all directions to discover her, his alarm becoming considerable when she was not to be found. The travellers delayed their departure, in the hopes of gaining intelligence of her before they went; for fears began to be entertained, that by some means or other she had been entrapped either by the Count Erintoff or by the police, who might have feared to seize her by open force, among so large a band of defenders.While the whole camp was thus thrown into a state of alarm, one of the scouts, who were at all times kept on the watch, to give timely notice in case they might be pursued, came running hastily among them, to say that he had descried, at a distance, a party whom he took to be police, riding rapidly towards the camp. Without a moment’s delay, Javis seized Ivan’s hand, hurrying him away at perhaps a faster rate, than their apparent age would have warranted; but they were only just in time to escape, for before they lost sight of the encampment, they perceived the police ride into it. The delay which there occurred, as we have already seen, enabled them to make good their distance, though they were in momentary expectation of being pursued: no signs, however, of their enemies appearing, they continued their journey at a more moderate speed.On the second day, as they were about to repose by the road-side, the heat of the sun becoming oppressive, they heard the clattering of horses’ hoofs behind them, and perceived, on turning their heads, a party of the police galloping along the road, before they had time to attempt concealing themselves. Javis, however, with perfect presence of mind, begged Ivan to imitate his style of walking, when the police coming up, merely cast a glance at them, and rode on; but the travellers saw them stop at a short distance ahead, to interrogate a young peasant lad, whom they had just before observed. The lad appeared in no way disconcerted, pointing in answer to their questions, to a road across the country, which they followed at the same rapid speed.Quickening their own pace, they soon overtook the boy, who saluted them as they passed, in respect for their seeming age. They did not think it prudent to rest, until the evening was far advanced, when Javis led Ivan to a hut, with the inhabitants of which he exchanged a few words, and was instantly admitted.It is not necessary to give here a detail of each day’s journey, their adventures possessing but little interest, merely observing, that on some nights they rested in the cottages of the peasants, and at other times they found shelter beneath the shade of the thick leaved trees, or reposed during the heat of the day, and travelled at night while the moon shone brightly. Several times, Ivan felt almost confident, that he had caught sight of the same peasant lad they had passed on their second day’s journey, who seemed to be dogging their steps; but Javis declared that he had not seen him, so that he concluded he must have again been mistaken. Ivan had now perfectly recovered not only his strength, but his spirits, for trusting that his hopes might be realised of reaching the land of his birth, where all his thoughts and aspirations centered, he felt that nothing could press him down, or prevent him from accomplishing his much desired object.One day, towards the evening, a violent storm overtook them, obliging them to stop at a wretched hostelry on the road-side, the only house of public entertainment to be found for a considerable distance. The fierceness of the tempest made it impossible for them to proceed; in spite therefore, of the slight danger they perhaps ran in entering a house where a spy might already be, they agreed to remain there, till a clear sky should again allow them to prosecute their journey.While they were seated at the wretched repast the house was able alone to afford, in an apartment serving the purpose of kitchen and receiving room for the guests, for whose accommodation tables and benches were placed at one end of it, a boy entered, who started at seeing them, turning back as if he would retreat, when Ivan recognised in him the lad whom he had suspected of following their steps. He entered the house, throwing himself on a bench near the fire, and while he endeavoured to dry his wet garments, he seemed lost in a reverie, gazing at the burning embers on the hearth, speaking to no one, nor turning his head to look at the other guests.Ivan at length taking compassion on the youth’s disconsolate manner, forgetful of his suspicions about him, in his assumed character of an old man, approached to invite him to share their humble fare.The boy started as Ivan spoke, a blush mantling on his cheek, and he hesitated to accept the proffered offer, till Javis came to add his persuasions. At length, he yielded and took his seat at their table, when Ivan asked him, if he had not before seen him on the road. The boy acknowledged that they had passed him.“Are you then going to Chioff, boy, to worship at the shrines of the holy saints?” asked Ivan.“Yes, I go thither for that purpose,” answered the boy.“You are but a youthful pilgrim to attempt so long a journey alone and unprotected,” said Ivan. “It surprises me that your parents put you not under the care of older people travelling the same road, who might have guarded your youth from the dangers your inexperience may lead you into. Had you no friends from your neighbourhood, making the pilgrimage?”“Alas, I have no parents who are able to protect me, and few friends who love me; but for protection I need it not, I can protect myself.”“Do not say that you have no friends, boy,” interrupted Javis, “when perchance, there are some, who most likely, would be ready to shield you from the slightest harm.”The boy answered not, but hung down his head, nor did he venture to look towards Ivan, while he was speaking.Ivan, in compassion for the boy’s timidity, spoke to him a few kind words of encouragement, when Javis addressed him. “You are travelling the same road we go, boy, and may, perchance, require protection. You shall, if you wish, accompany us, and you shall have all that two old men can bestow. Will you accept our offer?”The boy again seemed to hesitate, until Ivan pressed him to accept their protection, when he gladly assented. “You seem, poor boy, weighed down by some secret sorrow; tell it to us, that we may, if possible, afford you all the consolation in our power.”“Not for worlds,” answered the boy, sadly; “it would but increase my sorrow to name it, nor would you have power to heal it.”“But tell me, boy,” said Ivan, “by what name shall we call you?”The boy hesitated for a moment, before he spoke. “They call me, Conrin, Sir.”“Forsooth, boy, the name is a pretty one,” said Ivan, “and Conrin will we call you. You seem fatigued and weary; and now that you have satisfied your hunger, lie down and rest, for you have yet many a weary mile to travel, ere you can reach the shrines of the holy saints.”The boy indeed seemed unwilling to enter into conversation, listening however with earnest attention to the words which fell from the seeming old men’s lips, and as they ceased speaking, he retired to a corner of the room, where throwing himself on a bench, and wrapping his cloak close around him, he placed his head on a bundle he carried, and composed himself to sleep. The poor boy was evidently weary, and unaccustomed to the fatigues he had undergone on his journey, and though dressed as a common peasant, there was much greater neatness and care displayed than usual, the cloak also being a luxury few of his class possessed.The storm continued raging furiously as before, and as there were no beds in the house, nor any thing like such a comfort, the two travellers were fain to repose as best they might, on the hard benches placed against the wall.On the next morning by break of day, their new companion was already on foot, prepared to start, when the storm having passed away, the whole party set forward on their journey. They had not proceeded many miles, when Javis informed his companions, that there was a cottage in the neighbourhood, from whence he could procure a conveyance to carry them on at a faster rate; and begging them to rest for a while, he went in search of it, and soon returned, driving a small vehicle capable of containing all the three. In this carriage they travelled till the end of the next day, when Javis again found a fresh horse, so that by thus frequently changing both horse and carriage, in a few days they reached the neighbourhood of their destination.A distance now remained, which would take them two days to perform on foot, it being necessary to travel thus in their assumed characters of pilgrims, for already had they overtaken large crowds, all hastening to the same destination.The pilgrims travelled in bands of one or two hundred, of both sexes, and of all ages; the hoary headed grandsire and the athletic youth, aged women and laughing maidens, the old supporting their weary limbs on their staves, while by their side ran young children of all ages. The troop headed by a white bearded monk, leaning on a long staff, clothed in sackcloth and bare-footed, chaunting forth songs of encouragement to the weary, and praise to heaven.Thousands were at that moment on their way, to visit the catacombs of Chioff, from every part of the immense Empire of Russia; from the bleak and freezing Kamstchatka, from the vast and far distant regions of Siberia, from the confines of Tartary, and from the scattered provinces of the south; performing with unabated perseverance the whole distance on foot, seldom sleeping under a roof, and living on the precarious charity of the miserable peasants on their road. Our friends therefore joined one of the numerous companies, uninvited, yet cheerfully welcomed.All day the band travelled on, assembling at night in a grove of a few lofty wide-spreading trees near the road-side, through which the pale moon shone brightly on the heads of the numerous groups, here and there seen amid the darker shades. A fire was lighted to cook their scanty meal, after partaking of which, they assembled reverentially round an aged monk; who arose, commencing a slow and solemn chaunt, in which by degrees, the whole concourse joined. Far off, amid the silence of the night, were heard the hymns of adoration of those simple people, and for many hours of the night, did those songs of praise continue, ere throwing themselves on the bare ground, their bed, the heavens their only covering, they composed themselves to sleep.The boy found shelter close to the trees, amid some groups, apparently of about his own age, the bright moonbeams streaming like rays of glory on the youthful heads of the sleeping pilgrims.The road they had been hitherto travelling, had led over the flat and uninteresting steppe. The country, however, as they approached Chioff or Kiov, as it is also called, now became slightly undulating; but it was not until towards the evening, that they came in sight of the Holy City.As that unique and strikingly beautiful city first struck their view, standing in a commanding position, on a hill, the golden cupolas and domes, with which it is crowned, reflecting the rays of the sun with dazzling brightness, the pilgrims simultaneously raised a hymn of joy and praise. Every one of the vast crowd kneeling down, devoutly crossed himself, rending the air with songs of thanksgiving. After some minutes spent in prayer, again they all arose, and headed by the reverend monk, they descended the hill, to cross by a bridge the river Dnieper, whose waters wash the walls of the city. Some, in eager haste, without stopping to rest their weary limbs, rushed towards the Cathedral of the Ascension, or the Church of the Catacombs, which stands a little removed from the city on the banks of the Dnieper. Others, among whom were Ivan and his companions, sought rest and food, ere on the next morning, they should commence paying their adorations at the numerous shrines, they had vowed to visit. So well had Ivan and Javis sustained their characters, that not one of the credulous people, among whom they had freely mixed, suspected that they were otherwise than as what they appeared.Next morning Ivan and his companions set forward, to go through the usual routine of visiting the shrines. It is said, that in some years, more than fifty thousand pilgrims have visited the catacombs, and even now the whole city was filled with them, many too encamping outside on the unsheltered ground, thinking to gain more credit with heaven, by thus enduring greater hardship on earth. By early dawn, the whole of that vast concourse of strangers were on foot, hastening to the different places of worship.The Church of the Catacombs is adorned with seven golden domes, and seven golden spires, which are connected with gilt chains, now glittering with the first bright rays of the rising sun, seeming to shed a blaze of glory over the holy edifice, as the orisons of the morning worshippers rose towards heaven. Upwards of five hundred feet above the river, rises the dome of the belfry, adorned with Ionic columns and Corinthian pilasters, to which all Russians accord the greatest admiration and praise.As the doors of the church were thrown open, the eager pilgrims rushed in to throw themselves before the shrines of their favourite saints, whose pictures hung over their altars; though the least devout among them would have been scandalised had an image or figure stood there instead.As the first deep and solemn tones of the sacred harmony in the service rose towards heaven, Ivan and his companions entered the cathedral, and following the example of the multitude, knelt before one of the altars; but there was an almost imperceptible curl of contempt on the lip of Javis as they did so, even the boy seemed scarcely so devout as the long pilgrimage he had undertaken would have led one to suppose he should be.When the service was concluded, the pilgrims bought tapers at the porch of the church, and forming a procession in a long line, descended a wooden stair-case of many steps to the mouth of the catacombs, down each side of which were arranged an uninterrupted line of kneeling devotees, of the most wretched appearance. The procession halted, as the first part reached the entrance of the excavated passages of the catacombs, the priest preceding them; they then slowly and reverently entered the subterraneous vaults, the roof blackened with the smoke of thousands, and tens of thousands of the candles of the faithful, which had burnt there on previous years.On each side, in niches in the walls, were placed in open coffins, the bodies of those, who dying in the odour of sanctity, have been canonised for their pious acts and thoughts. There unburied they remain, enveloped in wrappers of cloth, and silk, highly ornamented with gold and silver embroidery, that their fellow mortals who come to them for intercession, seeing their honours after death, may study to imitate them in the purity of their lives; while their spirits, having ascended into heaven, are devoutly believed to exercise an influence with the Father and Son. Their names are written on their breasts, and many have also a history of their virtuous actions, while their stiffened hands placed before them in the attitude of prayer, receive the kisses of the pilgrims, though few perchance could decypher even the names of those they worshipped.Further on, they reached a passage in which was a range of small windows, where men had, with their own hands, built themselves in with stones against the wall, leaving open only a small hole to receive their food; dying with the insane thought, that they were doing their Maker a good service. Before each of the windows of those fanatics’ last dwelling, now their tomb, knelt some bigoted and devoted worshipper, firmly believing that their self-immolation and unnatural death, had purchased for them everlasting life, and place, and power, among the spirits of the blessed.Though it may seem incredible, yet so it was, that perchance not even one of that vast crowd had any just or clear notions of the tenets of the very religion they professed; for so ignorant are the Russian peasants, that the most absurd and superstitious legends find fall credit in their minds. Of the attributes of the Supreme Being, the majority have but the slightest conception, regarding him in the light of one inferior to their Emperor, and neither respecting nor fearing him so much. So completely does the despotic influence of the Czar extend over the greater mass of the people, that they have been taught to look upon him as one sent with divine authority, to rule over their lives and property, against whom it would be the most dreadful impiety to rebel; and for this end has their religion, and every feeling, and sentiment of their minds, been made subservient. Yet these are the people, whose rulers profess to extend the benign light of Christianity, and the blessings of civilisation, among the nations of the East!Leaving the church, as they walked through the crowds, Javis adroitly made inquiries among the peasant pilgrims, as to when a party was likely to start for the west confines of the Empire and gladly found that a band was about to return towards the frontier of Bessarabia the very next morning. With his usual tact and cleverness, he soon discovered where the party was lodging, introducing himself among the peasants, and gaining their good will. They therefore gladly received him and his friends among their company.The rest of the day was of necessity spent, in their character of pilgrims, in visiting the churches and most interesting sights of that gorgeous city, though gladly did they prepare to accompany the party of self-satisfied pilgrims, who were returning the same way they wished to pursue.End of Volume One.
It was now the beautiful, balmy, and genial month of a Russian June, all nature rejoicing, clothed in one entire bright livery of green, fresh from the new bursting buds, yet unseared by the burning heats of summer, like the beauteous maiden just ripened into perfect womanhood, surrounded with a halo of freshness and purity, ere the blasts and scorching atmosphere of the cruel world have had time to obscure the one or sully the other.
A few days had been passed by Ivan in the Gipsy camp, with but slow progress; each day, however, contributing to his strength. At length he declared himself sufficiently recovered to undertake the more difficult and dangerous part of his journey on foot; so eagerly burning was he with the desire of reaching the place of his destination, to fulfil the vow he had taken at the death-bed of his mother.
Azila had been his constant attendant, enlivening him with her conversation, and soothing him with her attentions; but so completely were his thoughts occupied with the events which had occurred, and especially with those to which he was looking forward, that no other sentiment entered his heart. That lovely being, day by day, sat by his side, watching anxiously each look, listening eagerly to each word he uttered, yet he loved not. He felt sincere gratitude to her as the preserver of his life, he would have again risked his own to aid her; but no other feeling excited his bosom. And she—so proud, so indifferent as she had shewn herself to be, towards the Count Erintoff, could she give her love to one from whom she could scarce hope for a return. The hearts of women are uncertain, incomprehensible, inscrutable, and we will not venture to pronounce by what special agency Azila’s was influenced.
Ivan was much indebted to old Hagar for his rapid recovery, though it was some time before she would give her consent to his eager wish to quit her care.
On the last day’s journey, as he was riding among the Gipsies, dressed in the costume of the rest of the party, the chief unfolded the plan he had formed to enable him to make his further escape from the empire.
“At this time of the year,” said the Zingani chief, “thousands of pilgrims flock from all parts of the empire, to what they superstitiously call their holy city of Chioff, and I propose that you should first repair thither with Javis, who is intimately acquainted with every part of the country, as your guide, both of you disguised as peasants performing the pilgrimage, for which I have provided every thing necessary. Should you, by any chance, be again followed, among the vast crowds who are now assembling at Chioff, you will find more facilities for preventing all clue of your route being discovered. After you have passed through the city, you and your guide may assume the character of pilgrims, returning from thence, towards their habitations on the confines of the country. I have sent forward a messenger to some friends of our people, who are now near the place where you will find the least danger in crossing the frontiers into Moldavia, to which Javis will lead you; and our people there, will afford you assistance should you require it. I must now ride forward to select a spot for our encampment; I wish to keep as much as possible concealed from all passers by, for we know not who may prove an enemy among them.” Saying which, the Gipsy chief rode on.
We must observe that the Zingani party had been travelling as much as practicable across the country, keeping all the bye roads and lanes, and avoiding all communications with the villages, near which they were at times obliged to pass.
As they journeyed on, Ivan rode up to the side of Azila, for the maiden seemed sad and dispirited. After some other conversation—
“You go, Sir,” said she, “amid scenes of excitement and of wild strife, where all your thoughts and hopes are centered, and where you will soon forget those you leave behind, those who would have died to serve you; but believe me, there is one who will never forget your aid, nor your bravery in her defence; who—”
“Neither can I ever forget one to whom I owe my life and liberty,” he exclaimed; “nay, much more: who will have enabled me to fulfil, I hope, a deep sworn vow, the accomplishment of which I have so rashly hazarded.”
Their conversation was here interrupted by the return of the Zingani chief, who rode to Ivan’s side.
Early the following day, Ivan and his guide sallied from a tent, so completely changed in appearance, that no one could possibly have recognised in the two old peasants, they now seemed to be, the dark featured, handsome young men they really were. Their very skin had been tinged of a reddish hue, with wrinkles on their brows and cheeks; while red shaggy locks sprinkled with white, covered their own dark hair, and long full beards of the same colour fell over their breasts to the waist, large low hats still more concealing their countenances. They wore long dark coloured gowns, and sheep-skin coats: rough boots of untanned leather protected their feet, and by their side hung wallets to contain their food. In their hands they bore thick sticks, ostensibly to support their tottering steps, but really to serve as a means of defence, in case of necessity.
Thus equipped, when ready to depart, the Zingani chief embraced them both, bestowing on them the peculiar blessings of his people, and charging Javis with many injunctions for the guidance of his conduct on their journey. The whole tribe assembled to bid them farewell, the old crone Hagar calling down curses on all who should impede them in their progress, and blessings on the heads of all who favoured them.
Azila alone was no where to be seen; and feelings which Ivan could scarcely acknowledge, even to himself, prevented him from asking for her, till the last moment. The chief, on missing Azila, sent in all directions to discover her, his alarm becoming considerable when she was not to be found. The travellers delayed their departure, in the hopes of gaining intelligence of her before they went; for fears began to be entertained, that by some means or other she had been entrapped either by the Count Erintoff or by the police, who might have feared to seize her by open force, among so large a band of defenders.
While the whole camp was thus thrown into a state of alarm, one of the scouts, who were at all times kept on the watch, to give timely notice in case they might be pursued, came running hastily among them, to say that he had descried, at a distance, a party whom he took to be police, riding rapidly towards the camp. Without a moment’s delay, Javis seized Ivan’s hand, hurrying him away at perhaps a faster rate, than their apparent age would have warranted; but they were only just in time to escape, for before they lost sight of the encampment, they perceived the police ride into it. The delay which there occurred, as we have already seen, enabled them to make good their distance, though they were in momentary expectation of being pursued: no signs, however, of their enemies appearing, they continued their journey at a more moderate speed.
On the second day, as they were about to repose by the road-side, the heat of the sun becoming oppressive, they heard the clattering of horses’ hoofs behind them, and perceived, on turning their heads, a party of the police galloping along the road, before they had time to attempt concealing themselves. Javis, however, with perfect presence of mind, begged Ivan to imitate his style of walking, when the police coming up, merely cast a glance at them, and rode on; but the travellers saw them stop at a short distance ahead, to interrogate a young peasant lad, whom they had just before observed. The lad appeared in no way disconcerted, pointing in answer to their questions, to a road across the country, which they followed at the same rapid speed.
Quickening their own pace, they soon overtook the boy, who saluted them as they passed, in respect for their seeming age. They did not think it prudent to rest, until the evening was far advanced, when Javis led Ivan to a hut, with the inhabitants of which he exchanged a few words, and was instantly admitted.
It is not necessary to give here a detail of each day’s journey, their adventures possessing but little interest, merely observing, that on some nights they rested in the cottages of the peasants, and at other times they found shelter beneath the shade of the thick leaved trees, or reposed during the heat of the day, and travelled at night while the moon shone brightly. Several times, Ivan felt almost confident, that he had caught sight of the same peasant lad they had passed on their second day’s journey, who seemed to be dogging their steps; but Javis declared that he had not seen him, so that he concluded he must have again been mistaken. Ivan had now perfectly recovered not only his strength, but his spirits, for trusting that his hopes might be realised of reaching the land of his birth, where all his thoughts and aspirations centered, he felt that nothing could press him down, or prevent him from accomplishing his much desired object.
One day, towards the evening, a violent storm overtook them, obliging them to stop at a wretched hostelry on the road-side, the only house of public entertainment to be found for a considerable distance. The fierceness of the tempest made it impossible for them to proceed; in spite therefore, of the slight danger they perhaps ran in entering a house where a spy might already be, they agreed to remain there, till a clear sky should again allow them to prosecute their journey.
While they were seated at the wretched repast the house was able alone to afford, in an apartment serving the purpose of kitchen and receiving room for the guests, for whose accommodation tables and benches were placed at one end of it, a boy entered, who started at seeing them, turning back as if he would retreat, when Ivan recognised in him the lad whom he had suspected of following their steps. He entered the house, throwing himself on a bench near the fire, and while he endeavoured to dry his wet garments, he seemed lost in a reverie, gazing at the burning embers on the hearth, speaking to no one, nor turning his head to look at the other guests.
Ivan at length taking compassion on the youth’s disconsolate manner, forgetful of his suspicions about him, in his assumed character of an old man, approached to invite him to share their humble fare.
The boy started as Ivan spoke, a blush mantling on his cheek, and he hesitated to accept the proffered offer, till Javis came to add his persuasions. At length, he yielded and took his seat at their table, when Ivan asked him, if he had not before seen him on the road. The boy acknowledged that they had passed him.
“Are you then going to Chioff, boy, to worship at the shrines of the holy saints?” asked Ivan.
“Yes, I go thither for that purpose,” answered the boy.
“You are but a youthful pilgrim to attempt so long a journey alone and unprotected,” said Ivan. “It surprises me that your parents put you not under the care of older people travelling the same road, who might have guarded your youth from the dangers your inexperience may lead you into. Had you no friends from your neighbourhood, making the pilgrimage?”
“Alas, I have no parents who are able to protect me, and few friends who love me; but for protection I need it not, I can protect myself.”
“Do not say that you have no friends, boy,” interrupted Javis, “when perchance, there are some, who most likely, would be ready to shield you from the slightest harm.”
The boy answered not, but hung down his head, nor did he venture to look towards Ivan, while he was speaking.
Ivan, in compassion for the boy’s timidity, spoke to him a few kind words of encouragement, when Javis addressed him. “You are travelling the same road we go, boy, and may, perchance, require protection. You shall, if you wish, accompany us, and you shall have all that two old men can bestow. Will you accept our offer?”
The boy again seemed to hesitate, until Ivan pressed him to accept their protection, when he gladly assented. “You seem, poor boy, weighed down by some secret sorrow; tell it to us, that we may, if possible, afford you all the consolation in our power.”
“Not for worlds,” answered the boy, sadly; “it would but increase my sorrow to name it, nor would you have power to heal it.”
“But tell me, boy,” said Ivan, “by what name shall we call you?”
The boy hesitated for a moment, before he spoke. “They call me, Conrin, Sir.”
“Forsooth, boy, the name is a pretty one,” said Ivan, “and Conrin will we call you. You seem fatigued and weary; and now that you have satisfied your hunger, lie down and rest, for you have yet many a weary mile to travel, ere you can reach the shrines of the holy saints.”
The boy indeed seemed unwilling to enter into conversation, listening however with earnest attention to the words which fell from the seeming old men’s lips, and as they ceased speaking, he retired to a corner of the room, where throwing himself on a bench, and wrapping his cloak close around him, he placed his head on a bundle he carried, and composed himself to sleep. The poor boy was evidently weary, and unaccustomed to the fatigues he had undergone on his journey, and though dressed as a common peasant, there was much greater neatness and care displayed than usual, the cloak also being a luxury few of his class possessed.
The storm continued raging furiously as before, and as there were no beds in the house, nor any thing like such a comfort, the two travellers were fain to repose as best they might, on the hard benches placed against the wall.
On the next morning by break of day, their new companion was already on foot, prepared to start, when the storm having passed away, the whole party set forward on their journey. They had not proceeded many miles, when Javis informed his companions, that there was a cottage in the neighbourhood, from whence he could procure a conveyance to carry them on at a faster rate; and begging them to rest for a while, he went in search of it, and soon returned, driving a small vehicle capable of containing all the three. In this carriage they travelled till the end of the next day, when Javis again found a fresh horse, so that by thus frequently changing both horse and carriage, in a few days they reached the neighbourhood of their destination.
A distance now remained, which would take them two days to perform on foot, it being necessary to travel thus in their assumed characters of pilgrims, for already had they overtaken large crowds, all hastening to the same destination.
The pilgrims travelled in bands of one or two hundred, of both sexes, and of all ages; the hoary headed grandsire and the athletic youth, aged women and laughing maidens, the old supporting their weary limbs on their staves, while by their side ran young children of all ages. The troop headed by a white bearded monk, leaning on a long staff, clothed in sackcloth and bare-footed, chaunting forth songs of encouragement to the weary, and praise to heaven.
Thousands were at that moment on their way, to visit the catacombs of Chioff, from every part of the immense Empire of Russia; from the bleak and freezing Kamstchatka, from the vast and far distant regions of Siberia, from the confines of Tartary, and from the scattered provinces of the south; performing with unabated perseverance the whole distance on foot, seldom sleeping under a roof, and living on the precarious charity of the miserable peasants on their road. Our friends therefore joined one of the numerous companies, uninvited, yet cheerfully welcomed.
All day the band travelled on, assembling at night in a grove of a few lofty wide-spreading trees near the road-side, through which the pale moon shone brightly on the heads of the numerous groups, here and there seen amid the darker shades. A fire was lighted to cook their scanty meal, after partaking of which, they assembled reverentially round an aged monk; who arose, commencing a slow and solemn chaunt, in which by degrees, the whole concourse joined. Far off, amid the silence of the night, were heard the hymns of adoration of those simple people, and for many hours of the night, did those songs of praise continue, ere throwing themselves on the bare ground, their bed, the heavens their only covering, they composed themselves to sleep.
The boy found shelter close to the trees, amid some groups, apparently of about his own age, the bright moonbeams streaming like rays of glory on the youthful heads of the sleeping pilgrims.
The road they had been hitherto travelling, had led over the flat and uninteresting steppe. The country, however, as they approached Chioff or Kiov, as it is also called, now became slightly undulating; but it was not until towards the evening, that they came in sight of the Holy City.
As that unique and strikingly beautiful city first struck their view, standing in a commanding position, on a hill, the golden cupolas and domes, with which it is crowned, reflecting the rays of the sun with dazzling brightness, the pilgrims simultaneously raised a hymn of joy and praise. Every one of the vast crowd kneeling down, devoutly crossed himself, rending the air with songs of thanksgiving. After some minutes spent in prayer, again they all arose, and headed by the reverend monk, they descended the hill, to cross by a bridge the river Dnieper, whose waters wash the walls of the city. Some, in eager haste, without stopping to rest their weary limbs, rushed towards the Cathedral of the Ascension, or the Church of the Catacombs, which stands a little removed from the city on the banks of the Dnieper. Others, among whom were Ivan and his companions, sought rest and food, ere on the next morning, they should commence paying their adorations at the numerous shrines, they had vowed to visit. So well had Ivan and Javis sustained their characters, that not one of the credulous people, among whom they had freely mixed, suspected that they were otherwise than as what they appeared.
Next morning Ivan and his companions set forward, to go through the usual routine of visiting the shrines. It is said, that in some years, more than fifty thousand pilgrims have visited the catacombs, and even now the whole city was filled with them, many too encamping outside on the unsheltered ground, thinking to gain more credit with heaven, by thus enduring greater hardship on earth. By early dawn, the whole of that vast concourse of strangers were on foot, hastening to the different places of worship.
The Church of the Catacombs is adorned with seven golden domes, and seven golden spires, which are connected with gilt chains, now glittering with the first bright rays of the rising sun, seeming to shed a blaze of glory over the holy edifice, as the orisons of the morning worshippers rose towards heaven. Upwards of five hundred feet above the river, rises the dome of the belfry, adorned with Ionic columns and Corinthian pilasters, to which all Russians accord the greatest admiration and praise.
As the doors of the church were thrown open, the eager pilgrims rushed in to throw themselves before the shrines of their favourite saints, whose pictures hung over their altars; though the least devout among them would have been scandalised had an image or figure stood there instead.
As the first deep and solemn tones of the sacred harmony in the service rose towards heaven, Ivan and his companions entered the cathedral, and following the example of the multitude, knelt before one of the altars; but there was an almost imperceptible curl of contempt on the lip of Javis as they did so, even the boy seemed scarcely so devout as the long pilgrimage he had undertaken would have led one to suppose he should be.
When the service was concluded, the pilgrims bought tapers at the porch of the church, and forming a procession in a long line, descended a wooden stair-case of many steps to the mouth of the catacombs, down each side of which were arranged an uninterrupted line of kneeling devotees, of the most wretched appearance. The procession halted, as the first part reached the entrance of the excavated passages of the catacombs, the priest preceding them; they then slowly and reverently entered the subterraneous vaults, the roof blackened with the smoke of thousands, and tens of thousands of the candles of the faithful, which had burnt there on previous years.
On each side, in niches in the walls, were placed in open coffins, the bodies of those, who dying in the odour of sanctity, have been canonised for their pious acts and thoughts. There unburied they remain, enveloped in wrappers of cloth, and silk, highly ornamented with gold and silver embroidery, that their fellow mortals who come to them for intercession, seeing their honours after death, may study to imitate them in the purity of their lives; while their spirits, having ascended into heaven, are devoutly believed to exercise an influence with the Father and Son. Their names are written on their breasts, and many have also a history of their virtuous actions, while their stiffened hands placed before them in the attitude of prayer, receive the kisses of the pilgrims, though few perchance could decypher even the names of those they worshipped.
Further on, they reached a passage in which was a range of small windows, where men had, with their own hands, built themselves in with stones against the wall, leaving open only a small hole to receive their food; dying with the insane thought, that they were doing their Maker a good service. Before each of the windows of those fanatics’ last dwelling, now their tomb, knelt some bigoted and devoted worshipper, firmly believing that their self-immolation and unnatural death, had purchased for them everlasting life, and place, and power, among the spirits of the blessed.
Though it may seem incredible, yet so it was, that perchance not even one of that vast crowd had any just or clear notions of the tenets of the very religion they professed; for so ignorant are the Russian peasants, that the most absurd and superstitious legends find fall credit in their minds. Of the attributes of the Supreme Being, the majority have but the slightest conception, regarding him in the light of one inferior to their Emperor, and neither respecting nor fearing him so much. So completely does the despotic influence of the Czar extend over the greater mass of the people, that they have been taught to look upon him as one sent with divine authority, to rule over their lives and property, against whom it would be the most dreadful impiety to rebel; and for this end has their religion, and every feeling, and sentiment of their minds, been made subservient. Yet these are the people, whose rulers profess to extend the benign light of Christianity, and the blessings of civilisation, among the nations of the East!
Leaving the church, as they walked through the crowds, Javis adroitly made inquiries among the peasant pilgrims, as to when a party was likely to start for the west confines of the Empire and gladly found that a band was about to return towards the frontier of Bessarabia the very next morning. With his usual tact and cleverness, he soon discovered where the party was lodging, introducing himself among the peasants, and gaining their good will. They therefore gladly received him and his friends among their company.
The rest of the day was of necessity spent, in their character of pilgrims, in visiting the churches and most interesting sights of that gorgeous city, though gladly did they prepare to accompany the party of self-satisfied pilgrims, who were returning the same way they wished to pursue.