We had not travelled far into Russia proper, before the difference in the condition of the peasantry there, and in Siberia, forced itself on our attention. The houses in Russia are decidedly inferior to those in Siberia. They lack the air of rude comfort peculiar to the latter. Windows are broken and stuffed with straw, and roofs are out of repair. Women and children are ill-clad and squalid. The men are haggard, abject, and degraded. Everything is suggestive of poverty, negligence, and misery. In remarkable contrast to these phenomena are the outward circumstances of the peasants in Siberia. As I have intimated in the course of this narrative, these latter are well clad, well housed, and at least adequately fed. They have something of independence in their bearing, and the condition of their families, as well as the tasteful decorations often met with in their houses, evince a certain amount of self-respect. The difference is easily accounted for—the explanation lies in the wordsserfandno serf, and it illustrates the inevitable effects of slavery on a people. And if slavery, in its modified form of serfdom, can so deeply mark the character of the subjects of it, what may be expected from the pure, uncompromising "institution?"
The Siberian free peasant is the descendant of a convict. This applies to almost the whole Russian population of Eastern Siberia, as also to the great proportion of that ofWestern Siberia. In the latter region there are still the descendants of many of those Cossacks who followed the renowned Yermak in his victorious march across the Ural, and who continue in the enjoyment of certain privileges granted to them by the Empress Catharine. But Eastern Siberia, by far the richest of the two, may be said to be entirely peopled by the descendants of convicts. These belong to two categories—those who are condemned for capital crimes, and those who are expatriated for minor offences. The criminal who belongs to the first category, when he has undergone the corporal punishment allotted to him, and served his term (generally mitigated) of hard labour in the government mines, has a portion of land granted him, on being released from his confinement. He may cultivate as much ground as he chooses to clear, using the timber for building purposes or fuel. He is exempt from the payment of taxes, and from the conscription. The children of these convicts, born in Siberia, enjoy the same privileges, but they are still what are calledminors, and do not possess the rights of a free peasant. For example, they are disqualified from holding any honorary appointment in the village or community where they may reside. Such disabilities may be, and frequently are overcome by means of money; for an industrious peasant has an opportunity of saving, and it is not an unusual thing for them to become rich. Many of the most wealthy men in Siberia at the present moment—large gold-digging proprietors, merchants, &c., are the descendants in the second or third generation of convicts who have undergone the penalty of the law. These men generally manage to "write themselves up," by a judicious application of their money, and then by paying the dues of one of the three guilds of merchants, they obtain a status in society, and enjoy the right of trading; they often make fortunes, either in trade, gold-digging, or other enterprises.
The other class of criminals is composed of those who have been exiled for minor offences such as theft; and of serfs, who, before their great emancipation in 1859, were liable to be sent to Siberia for any offence against their masters, or even for no offence at all, but from sheer caprice. I met an old woman in Tomsk who had been exiled on the latter count. She had inadvertently stuck a needle into the wall, and her mistress, with the nervousness that a bad conscience produces, took it into her head that the serf intended to bewitch her. For this offence the old wretch (though I dare say she was young then) was sent to the police, to be despatched to Siberia with the next batch of government exiles, and the official record stated she was so sent "by the will of her master."
Well, these convicts not possessing the rights of free citizenship, are, on arriving in Siberia, appointed to reside in, or registered as belonging to, a certain district of the province where the Governor-General may determine to colonise them. After three years' residence, certain advancement is held out to these people, if they can produce a certificate of good behaviour. They are allowed to marry, to become settlers, to clear and cultivate land at pleasure. They are exempt from taxes for the space of twelve years; and after that they only pay a trifle. These convicts are, however, legally dead, can never hold property in their own name, and of course can never return to Russia. But so far from this latter restriction being a real hardship, if a return to their native air were permitted them, it is highly improbable that any would avail themselves of the privilege. Siberia is really the land of promise to them. The descendants of these convicts become free agriculturists, and live in independence. They pay to government a tax of from three to four pounds, sterling, per head,[23]per annum, which is very much higherthan the tax levied on the peasants of Russia proper. But there the peasant had, in addition to the small tax to government, anobrokto pay to his master, amounting on an average to about four pounds sterling a year. The Russian peasant, before the emancipation, got nothing in return for this tax, but was bound body and soul to his master, and unable to do anything to better his condition that was not entirely agreeable to the arbitrary will of his owner. The peasant in Siberia, on the other hand, is absolutely free in all things to follow the bent of his own will. He has no master to dread and serve, and owes obedience to nothing but the law of the land. The Siberian peasantry are treated with every liberality by the government, whose ruling purpose with respect to that country is to colonise it with industrious communities, who will turn its natural wealth to account, and become an arm of support to the state. For the single tax above-mentioned, the peasant receives as much land as he can clear, as much timber as he chooses to fell, and no rent is required from him. The land he has worked is his own. No other person can disturb his possession, and the government even cannot claim from him any portion of the land so acquired without his formal renunciation. The primeval forest may be said to cover the whole of Siberia—the cleared spaces are as drops in the bucket, and the bare steppes, where timber is scant, bear but an insignificant proportion to the whole. In the immediate vicinity of some of the large towns, where the people have been burning wood for two hundred years, a palpable impression has been made on the forest, and there it has been found necessary to restrict the cutting of wood to certain limits, both as to the quantity consumed, and the boundaries within which trees may be felled. These restrictions are enforced with a view to securing the growth of young wood within a convenient distance of the towns.
There is but one Siberian nobleman and proprietor of serfs in existence,—Mr. Rodinkoff, Counsellor of State and Vice-Governor of the Province of Yeniseisk, a kind-hearted, good old man. His grandfather received from the Empress Catharine a grant of lands and peasants in Siberia on the terms of Russian serfdom. But neither he nor his successors ever attempted to exercise proprietary rights over their peasants, who lived very much as the free peasants do. One of the family, the brother of the present proprietor, broke through the custom of his fathers, and paid the penalty of his life for his imprudence. He attempted to put in force his full signorial rights, and to levy contributions on his peasants, as in Russia proper. The consequence was that he was murdered in one of his excursions to visit his estate, within thirty miles of the town of Krasnoyarsk. The present proprietor seldom interferes with, or visits his peasants, but contents himself with the modest imposts of wood for winter fuel for his town residence, and hay for his horses, with which they cheerfully supply him.
In the matter of recruiting, the Siberian peasants have always been leniently dealt with. In many parts of the country they are exempted altogether for certain considerations. Those who settle on the rivers Lena and Yenisei, are exempt from all taxes and recruiting, on condition that they supply travellers with post-horses, and convey the government post, for both which services they are, moreover, paid at a higher rate even than in other parts of the country. This privilege extends from near Irkutsk to the frozen ocean on the Lena, and from the town of Yeniseisk to the frozen ocean on the Yenisei. The extreme severity of the climate, and the inhospitable nature of the soil in these regions render it necessary to encourage settlers, and so to secure uninterrupted communication through the country. There is no spring, and no autumn inthese parts. Three months, and in some districts less, of summer, is all the time allowed them for cultivation of the soil. The rest of the year is winter, during which snow lies to the depth of from seven to upwards of twenty feet. The temperature then falls to 30°, 40°, and in some parts 50° Reaumur of frost (equal to -35°, -58°, and -80°, Fahrenheit). No corn grows, and but few vegetables, but the country abounds with wild animals such as bear, elk, deer, sables, foxes, squirrels. The inhabitants become expert hunters, and make a good living out of the furs they obtain.
The settlers in the river Angara are also exempted from taxes of all kinds, and from recruiting, on condition of their supplying government and private travellers with skilful pilots and guides, for which they are of course likewise well requited by those who employ them. This is necessary on the Angara, that river being one of the most dangerous in the world. Being the only river that runs out of the Baikal Lake, a heavy volume of water is forced down into it, and during its course from the lake to its confluence with the Yenisei, it is full of falls and rapids, which can only be passed with safety under the guidance of pilots of local skill and knowledge.
The amenities of free life enjoyed by the peasants of Siberia have produced the unmistakeable effect of, in some measure, eradicating the impress of slavish degradation which centuries of servility had stamped on the whole race of moujiks. The hereditary marks of the yoke are still too plainly to be seen, and many generations will probably pass from the scene before even the Siberian Russians can claim to be really civilised. But it is a great thing to have made such a good start on the road to improvement. The progress made is not likely to be lost; each stage of advancement rather becomes a guarantee for still greater, and more rapid progress in the future. The feeling of independence has taken deep root in the minds of these freemen, and it would be no longer possibleto enslave them, without causing a revolution. Their ideas have been enlarged. Industry and economy are seen to have their full reward. The security of life and property, and the liberation from the arbitrary dictates of a superior will, give the people encouragement to cultivate their talents in the full faith that their labours shall not be in vain. Unlimited wealth is open to all who have the energy to seek it. Great numbers of the Siberian peasants have amassed fortunes already. Other tastes naturally flow from worldly prosperity, and already among the merchants who have enriched themselves from the ranks of the peasants, education is beginning to attract attention. In due time mental culture will, no doubt, spread downwards, and the distinction of classes, which has so greatly retarded the progress of civilisation in Russia, may gradually be smoothed away. The amalgamation of classes will consolidate and strengthen the whole body politic, and should that happy consummation ever be realised in Russia, Siberia will have the honour of leading the way. The barriers that obstruct free intercourse between the different strata of society are already partially broken down, greatly to the advantage of all. For slavery or serfdom exercises a demoralising influence on masters and slaves alike. The institution in Russia crushed the energy of life out of the serfs, and almost destroyed their thinking faculties—so much so that centuries of freedom may be inadequate to enable the emancipated to rise to their proper level of intelligence.
While the serfs were thus degraded and kept down to a position but little superior to that of domestic animals, their masters, having no community of feeling with them, were actuated by the single motive of extorting the maximum revenues out of their human property. The cares of management devolved on the serfs, and the masters, being for the most part almost as much as the serfs shut out from theirlegitimate share in public affairs, abandoned themselves to extravagant pleasures and dissipation, or to mischievous intrigues. Without any healthy occupation for body or mind, a highly artificial mode of life developed itself in the ranks of the wealthy serf-proprietors, the sole refuge from which was in the military or civil appointments of the government. Practical education was wanting in the great body of them, so that when their source of revenue was taken away by the liberation of their serfs, they broke down from the want of any resources within themselves by which they might have maintained their standing in society, and even have improved their pecuniary condition in other careers. There were very many exceptions to this, but such was the necessary tendency of the institution of serfdom, and such was the actual fate of those proprietors who allowed their energy to be sapped by the unnatural life to which they were born.
It was probably the growing prosperity of Siberia, and the marked superiority of the condition of the population there, that induced the government to emancipate the serfs of Russia proper. The importance of this great measure can hardly be over-estimated, and I doubt whether the Emperor Alexander II. has received the full credit due to him for the enlightened liberality which dictated, and the noble courage which carried into execution, this truly magnificent conception. It is well known that the most determined hostility of the great majority of the nobles was arrayed against the measure, which, from their point of view, threatened to sweep away at one blow their whole worldly wealth. The Emperor stood almost alone, being supported by a small, and not overwise minority. His life was several times in jeopardy. But he maintained his purpose with singular pertinacity through three years of discussion and deliberation, during which the ill-timed zeal of his supporters raised seriousdifficulties in his way by trying to drive matters too fast. At the end of three years the ukase was signed, and in two years more twenty-three millions of male serfs, with the corresponding number of females, were set free. Whether we consider the vast numbers of men and women whose destiny was involved, the radical character of the change effected, the formidable opposition which had to be borne down, or the germs of expansion which it implanted into the Russian people, moulding the whole future history of the nation, this act of the Emperor of Russia stands unrivalled as a measure of reform in the history of the world. Many other reforms have been introduced during the present reign, but the emancipation of the serfs is an achievement in itself worthy of a lifetime.
Peter the Great did much to promote the progress of the material prosperity of his country, and considering the barbarous character of his education, and of the age in which he lived, more than established his claim to the title ofGreat. Catharine made her reign "glorious;" Nicholas made his name terrible; but to Alexander II. belongs the immortal honour of liberating his people from slavery. The full results of this great work will only be manifested in future ages. The serfs have now, as it were, been born to political life—their education is but beginning. With freedom, industry will grow; the comforts of life will be enjoyed; intelligence will spread, and higher aspirations will be infused into the servile millions. In course of time the Russian population will be capable of exercising the rights of freemen, and the day may come when even the despotism of the government may yield something to the claims of the people for representation. Already a change for the better is observable among the liberated serfs. Each had a piece of land allotted to him, varying from eight to twenty acres, with the right to farm or purchase more. Residents in Russia have noted an increase in the productiveness of many parts of the country, in consequenceof the improved system of agriculture that has been initiated since every man began to grow his own crops, instead of slaving his life away for behoof of a master whom he seldom saw, and who took little interest in the management of his property. Even the character of the people is already sensibly ameliorated. They show more self-reliance and self-respect than formerly, and their increased industry is implied in the greater production of the country.
The effect of the emancipation on the nobles has been various. The spendthrift portion of them have been ruined by it, as also those who had not the ability, foresight, or resolution to take timely measures to meet the consequences of the social revolution. Others lost heavily, to the extent of half or two-thirds of their incomes; but, facing the emergency in a practical spirit, they betook themselves to useful employments, with a view to improving their circumstances; and many of these have regained by such means all that they had lost. The more prudent and economical proprietors, who devoted themselves to the improvement of their estates, and were fully prepared for the change, have been positively gainers by the movement; for, besides making more out of their property by efficient management and free labour than they could extort from their serfs, they have the indemnity paid by government to the credit side of their accounts.
The highly exasperated feelings displayed by the majority in the first instance cooled down considerably during the five years which elapsed between the first notice of the intended reform and the actual consummation of it. The Russians are tolerably well accustomed to arbitrary measures, and their feelings are not naturally very deep. But the nobles were still far from being satisfied, and the mutterings of general discontent that were heard long after the inauguration of the new regime, continued to be a cause of anxiety to the Emperor. The dissatisfaction of the nobles was fedfrom various causes apart from the serf question. A pretty general reform of abuses was instituted about the same period. Many time-honoured privileges and monopolies were invaded, to the prejudice of those who were battening on the spoils of office. Matters continued in a critical state until the perpetration of the infamous deeds of incendiarism which preceded the Polish insurrection. These occurrences brought all the best part of the population to the side of the government, and restored the wavering loyalty of the nobles and military officers; and the malcontents, whose nefarious gains in public offices of trust and otherwise were put an end to, were fain to sink their grievances in oblivion.
We passed through a great deal of bare, flat and uninteresting country on the road to Kazan. The ground being covered with snow, we could not judge of the soil, but farming villages were tolerably numerous, and a fair amount of population seemed to find a subsistence there. Oaks, of which we saw none on the Siberian side of the Ural range, now began to appear. The birch trees grow straight and tall, and pines were less conspicuous in the woods.
The number of Polish prisoners we found on the road threatened seriously to impede our march. We had met them occasionally in Siberia, but between Perm and Kazan we encountered companies of them on the way, and at almost every station. The resources of the posting establishment were severely taxed to provide horses for so many travellers at once, and we had frequently to wait till the Poles were gone, and then take the tired horses they had brought from the last station. The Poles travelled in the same manner as we did, in large sledges containing three or four people, sometimes more. Those who could not be accommodated with sledges had carts, ortelégas, which were more or less crowded. None of them travelled a-foot. All were well clothed in furs. On the whole I was surprised to find such a number of people travelling with so much comfort. When we met a party of them in a post-station we were very short of room, unless when we happened to be therefirst. Then the cooking establishment was entirely monopolised by the exiles when it pleased the officer in charge to dine them. On such occasions we postponed our repast to the next station. The prisoners are invariably treated with kindness and consideration by the officer in charge and by thegensdarmes. They are under close surveillance, but I did not see any of the prisoners in irons, though I was informed that some of them were so. I remember one fat, jolly fellow in charge of one of the detachments of prisoners. He was a captain in the army, and had hard work to console himself in his forlorn situation. He did not at all like the service he was engaged in; indeed he seemed to feel his banishment to Siberia more than the exiles themselves. He envied our destination homewards, and took occasion to bemoan himself a little. "Ah! you are happy," said he; "in a few days you will be in Moscow, but I, poor devil, must go to Tobolsk withgensdarmes"—accompanied by an expressive shrug of the shoulders, and downcasting of the eyes. He made companions of some of the prisoners; one in particular he seemed to be on cordial terms with. The officer told us this prisoner had held a commission under Garibaldi, and had been lately captured leading a band in Poland. He was a handsome young fellow, with a wild look in his eye. As for the rest of the prisoners, there was nothing remarkable about them. They ate well and talked loudly; the din of their voices at a post-station was intolerable. They joked and laughed a great deal, by way of keeping their spirits up I suppose; but no indication whatever was given that they were exiles undergoing the process of banishment. If one might judge from appearances, I should say they rather liked it.
On the 24th of November, late at night, we reached Kazan, a fine old town, the name of which is closely bound up with the ancient history of Russia. I found a letter waiting meat the post-office there, in answer to my telegram from Kolyvan, which was a comfort. How I got into the post-office at eleven o'clock at night, and how the men happened to be there in their places at that hour, I was not very clear about. But it was explained that two posts were then expected, one from the east and one from the west, and that when I hammered at the door they thought it was at least one of them. Arriving in Kazan very late, we took up our quarters for the night at the station hotel, where we were half suffocated as usual by the close fusty atmosphere of a room kept up to + 16° Reaumur (68° Fahrenheit), no air being ever allowed to enter.
In the morning we began to hear ominous warnings about the Volga. The ice was coming down in big lumps, and our sledge could not be got across—so we were informed. It was seven versts from the station to the ferry. We might drive there and see for ourselves, but then it would have been excessively disagreeable to have to return defeated. We consulted a Russian gentleman to whom we had a letter of introduction, but no comfort was to be got from him. The state of the river was as bad as it could be, and he strongly advised us not to leave Kazan until the Volga was hard frozen. The voice of the tempter had been saying "wait, wait," at every point of our journey from Kiachta to Kazan, but as we had not listened before, we were not likely to do it now, when so near the end of our journey. I could not help remarking how singularly we had been baulked by contumacious rivers during the two months that had passed since we encountered the Tolla in Mongolia. They were always just in the impassable crisis when we happened to reach them, and last of all the Volga gave us trouble, a river that we never reckoned on crossing at all. A little earlier we should have passed up the river in a steamboat. A little later we should have driven up the Volga on the ice, for thatis an almost direct road to Nijni-Novgorod. But of course we hit the wrong time, just betwixt and between. The river must however be crossed if we would proceed.
An offer of twenty roubles being made for the sledge, we sold it to the post-master. It was he who persuaded us that we could not take it further, and of course we thought ourselves "done" in consequence. We got our traps stowed in two post-chaises and drove towards the ferry on the Volga. In leaving the main town of Kazan we crossed over a causeway, or embanked road, through a marsh which connects the town with a kind of suburb. The view of Kazan from the other side of the swamp is very fine. It is built on high ground, and its spires and domes show to great advantage from a distance. In the summer season, when tree leaves and green grass are out, the environs of Kazan must be very pleasing to the eye; for even in November, when the country was one great snowy waste, bleak and cheerless, the town looked really handsome. The best houses, as well as public buildings, are built of brick, indeed a wooden house is rather the exception there. Having crossed a flat tract of country, we reached the Volga at a point about five miles from Kazan, and as many above its confluence with the Kama. It is truly a noble river, and the high banks enable one to get a sort of bird's-eye view of the broad sheet of water. I should rather say a compound of water, ice, and snow, for the surface of the river was covered with large blocks of ice, loaded with snow, moving rapidly down the stream, with a few open spots of clear water here and there. There was great commotion at the ferry among moujiks, Cossacks, and Tartars. Several boats were busy conveying passengers across, but they made slow work of it. The men refused to start from either side until they saw, or thought they saw, sufficient space clear to hold out some hope of their being able to effect the passage.They would wait an hour or more for a favourable opportunity to start, and even then they were just as likely to be carried down by the driving ice as to fetch the opposite landing. One boat was jammed in mid-channel and borne down in a perfectly unmanageable condition for two or three miles, until the moving icebergs voluntarily released her, when she was got to land at a place where it was impossible to get horses or sledges near, owing to the precipitous nature of the bank. The model of these boats is beautifully adapted to this kind of iceberg navigation. Their sides are cut away, so that a straight line is drawn from the gunwale to the keel. A section of the boat is represented by the letter V, but the angle formed by the two sides is much greater than that in the usual form of that letter, so that the boats are very flat. They may be nipped between two fields and no damage be done, as there is nothing for the ice to get hold of. Did the boats present a perpendicular side to the edge of it, they could not escape destruction. We unfortunately had ample time to make observations on the navigation of the Volga and other matters that came under our notice, for we were compelled to kick our heels about the whole day, without finding a boat disengaged. Long before dark the men stopped work for the day, to make sure they would not be caught in the dusk of the evening essaying a passage which demanded all their wits in broad daylight. The first hour or two passed pleasantly enough while we entertained ourselves watching the process of a river freezing. A margin of thick ice had already formed along the bank, strong enough to arrest the progress of the "pack" in its downward course, when borne against the projecting points. The floating ice-fields crashed with great impetuosity on the fixed ice, were shattered by the shock, and, urged by the force of the current, the fragments were piled up one above another in huge chaotic masses. When left still for a shorttime the pile congealed, and in a few hours was ready to serve as a barrier to stop more of the pack and annex it to the mass. During that one day the solid ice was extended six or eight feet, and with continued frost a very few days would suffice to freeze over the whole river.
The military were in great force on the banks of the Volga, and carried everything their own way, regardless of the interests of the general public, as represented by the few civilians who presented themselves as candidates for the middle passage. We had seen some of the soldiery before this time, but they were so-called "Cossacks" of the old type. Those we encountered at Kazan, and on the Volga, were smartly set off with French military caps, and had really a soldier-like bearing. The traditional grey over-coat was universal, but there was enough of innovation in their get-up to mark the recent improvement that has taken place in the Russian soldier. I shall probably allude in the sequel to the army reforms introduced into Russia during the present reign.
A good many Tartars were sprinkled among the crowd that infested the landing-place at the Volga ferry. They usually wear a round fur cap, somewhat different from that worn by the Russian moujik. Their physiognomy is widely removed from the Sclavonic type. They have the flat features of the Mongol races, but are not to be confounded with any of them.
The ferry-boats were engaged the whole day in conveying Polish exiles across the river, bound for Siberia. It is a sad sight to see so many people in captivity, and still more so to see a number of women accompanying the exiles. It is quite common for the wives, daughters, and mothers of the political convicts to follow their relatives into Siberia. This is not discouraged by the Russian government; on the contrary, every facility is granted to enable the families to emigrate, and theyhave always the means of travelling in company. The object of the government is to colonise Siberia, so that the more people go there the better. Besides, the residence of families in exile offers some guarantee against any attempt at a return to their native country. Two old ladies I particularly noticed coming out of a boat, accompanied by two soldiers. They were both well dressed in black silk and warm fur cloaks. One of them was extremely old, and unable to walk. She stooped a great deal, and leaned on a crutch while standing on the ice. The other was also very frail. We pitied these old creatures, exposed as they were day after day in such inclement weather, compelled to undergo the hardships and privations inseparable from all Russian and Siberian travelling. They were treated with great kindness by the soldiers, who lifted them carefully out of the boat, carried them to their sledges, which were in waiting, and put them in as tenderly as if they had been their own mothers. After carefully wrapping them up with their furs, a Cossack got in beside each of the ladies, and they drove off to Kazan. A girl who was with them was equally well attended to by the officer in command of the party, who seemed to consider the Polish maiden to be his especial charge.
Much has been said and written on this Polish question, and an unusual number of distorted and exaggerated statements have gained currency in Europe on the subject. It is certain that neither the oppressors nor the oppressed are to be implicitly trusted as regards their veracity, and it is not easy, in consequence, to sift out the bare unvarnished truth. But, leaving out of sight for a moment the actual merits of the question, as between the Russian government and the rebellious Poles, the fate of the exiles is by no means such a hard one as is too commonly supposed. I have taken pains to inquire into this, and the more I have heard about it from persons well able to judge, the more have I been convincedthat the Poles in Siberia are very much better off than the average of those in Poland. The Russians to a man condemn them, and justify their government in the measures that have been adopted to put down the insurrection. But their feelings of loyalty to the Emperor may possibly warp their judgment. The foreign residents who have no such influence to sway their opinions, may be considered impartial in the matter; and they, on the whole, indorse the Russian views as regards the Poles. Those English residents in Siberia with whom I have conversed, assert that the Polish exiles enjoy a degree of peace, comfort, and prosperity, that they were altogether strangers to in their own country. Wealth, talent, industry, and education have the most ample scope in Siberia, and are set free from those distractions which sap healthy enterprise in a country torn with civil wars. I have already given some hints of the position occupied by Russian political exiles in Siberia, and I need not dwell on the subject now, further than to say that the Poles are treated with still greater leniency and consideration.
That the exiles are, on the whole, dissatisfied, there can be no doubt. But the more sensible of them admit that their worldly circumstances are improved by going to Siberia. Many of them are pleased at the change, and would not willingly return home if it were open to them to do so. So long as they remain in Poland, they say, they are at the mercy of every band of malcontents, who have nothing of their own to lose. In revolutionary times they are constrained, in spite of themselves, to take part in the proceedings, and to sacrifice their time, property, and everything else to schemes of which they may strongly disapprove. They never feel secure from the consequences of the folly of their hot-headed countrymen. They have no heart to work, when they are liable, at any moment, to be involved in ruin by the rashness of some insurrectionary party. But Siberia offers an escape from all this strifeand endless conspiracy, and some of them hail with delight the sentence that exiles them to a more congenial soil. No one, indeed, who has observed, in an impartial manner, the conditions of life in Siberia and Russia respectively, will be disposed to doubt that the former is really the more attractive residence, and although it is remarkable, it is not incredible, that many Poles should deliberately prefer it to their own country.
As a precautionary measure, the Russian government has always studied to scatter the exiles over Siberia, to prevent any large communities of them from congregating in one place. The governor-general of Western Siberia has the power of distributing them as he may see fit. All the exiles are taken to Tobolsk as a rendezvous, and are there told off to the various districts they are destined to reside in. In their final distribution there is great room for favouritism, as well as for the gratification of malevolence on the part of the governor; some of the exiles may be sent to the large towns, and others to wild, uninhabited regions, and inhospitable climates. Oppression and cruelty have doubtless been in former days practised on them, and may possibly still, to some extent, exist. But, in the main, they are treated kindly, both while travelling, and in their appointed residences. Whatever sentence may have been awarded (speaking of criminals), it is invariably mitigated in practice. The stigma of exile is no bar to their well-doing in Siberia. Everything combines to make their lives pleasant, except that one element of bitterness, the ever-present consciousness that they are under the ban of the law, and doomed never to return to their own unhappy country. That one consideration is, no doubt, powerful enough, in ardent and sensitive minds, to neutralise all the elements of happiness that their banishment affords; but time mellows it down to a vague, latent feeling of oppression, and sympathy with those of theircountrymen who may still be engaged in the hopeless struggle for independence. Those of the exiles who have sense enough to accept their lot in a philosophical spirit, and do not weary their lives out in chafing under their fate, have comparatively little cause for dissatisfaction. The object of the Russian government is not so much to punish the insurgents, as to colonise Siberia with people of education and intelligence. Attempts to escape are punished with the utmost severity; but these attempts are rare.
Mrs. Atkinson relates a story of a Pole who was caught in a desperate effort to return to Europe, and sent to the mines. The same is still the stock-story served up for the entertainment of travellers, the ten years or more that have elapsed not having apparently supplied another instance.
There cannot be much difference of opinion on the question of the spoliation of Poland by the three great powers. Although the vices inherent in the Polish constitution rendered the subjugation of the country by its powerful neighbours almost inevitable, nothing can justify the unscrupulous proceedings of Russia and her two satellites in seizing it. But in the immediate causes that prompted the recent insurrection, and the measures adopted by the Russian government to quell it, the Poles have perhaps received more sympathy, and the Russians more odium, than they deserved. It is certain that the Emperor was liberally disposed towards the Poles; but they aspired, not to greater liberty, but to absolute independence of Russia. As was well shown by the correspondent of the "Times," no reform, however radical, would conciliate them while they were connected with Russia, and the easy rule of Alexander II. was the very thing that enabled the Poles to rebel, which, under the iron hand of Nicholas, was impossible.
It is, doubtless, a legitimate grievance that a highly culturedpeople, as the Poles are, should be governed by semi-barbarous Russians; but, on the other hand, the superior intelligence of the Poles found its full value in Russia. They were rapidly gaining posts of trust and emolument in the imperial service, and I have heard it said, by a person eminently qualified to judge, that if they had but postponed their insurrection for ten years, they would then have had no cause to rebel, because by that time they would have virtually governed Russia as much as Russia governs Poland. If the Poles had possessed the practical philosophy of the Chinese, they might have overcome their conquerors by a process somewhat analogous to that by which the latter people have successively out-civilised the various Tartar powers, and overrun their territories. But they cast to the winds their opportunities, and committed their destiny to the hazard of a desperate venture, in which success was, humanly speaking, impossible. The only result, indeed, that could reasonably have been expected from this fatal enterprise was that the old relations between the two countries should be replaced on the footing of a rigorous despotism on the one hand, and absolute subjection on the other.
Without attempting to extenuate the severities, often arbitrary, and cruelly unjust, that have been practised on the Poles by the Russian officials in the later stages of the insurrection, due allowance should be made for the exaggerations inseparable from one-sided accounts, especially in times of great excitement. And it is reasonable that their fair share of responsibility for the blood that has been needlessly shed, should be borne by the leaders of the movement, who with suicidal rashness plunged their country into a war, which a little calm reflection might have shown them was hopeless from the beginning.
It is well also to note that, since the rebellion has been finally put down, the Russian government has evinced novindictive feeling towards the subjugated Poles; but, on the contrary, has set itself to improve their condition by the establishment of many liberal measures, social and educational, the progress of which was interrupted by the outbreak of the insurrection.
But supposing even that the insurrection had been successful, what substantial advantage would have accrued to Poland? A return to the conditions existing before the partition, the hostile factions and the confederations more tyrannical even than Russia, would not have been a great improvement. And Poland would then have been a small, weak, and poor kingdom, surrounded by three powerful enemies, who would never want acasus belli. How long would the kingdom have been likely to maintain its existence under such conditions?
When, far on in the afternoon, we saw no prospect of effecting a crossing of the Volga that day, we were glad to pack our traps into the first sledge that offered, and make our way back to Kazan. We were not the only disappointed ones, but the other westward-bound travellers, having more practical knowledge than ourselves, took the precaution to drive down in a town sledge, without their baggage, to reconnoitre the ferry. With our bulkyimpedimenta, we were in a condition eminently favourable for being victimised by the rapacious rascals who repaired to the spot with horses and sledges, attracted thither by the same instinct that brings the eagles to the carcase. In the first instance, we had been charged the fare for fourteen versts, for a stage that was acknowledged to be only seven—no better reason being alleged for the charge than that it was "necessary." The sledge had been sent back to the post-station, after being discharged of our persons and appurtenances, and at the end of the day we found ourselves at the mercy of a set of wide-mouthed moujiks, with the most exalted ideas of the value of their services.
The hotel "Ryazin," where we took up our quarters, had the reputation of being one of the most fashionable in Kazan, as was made apparent to us by the thick atmosphere of stale tobacco-smoke that pervaded the long narrow corridors, and close pent-up rooms. Deeming ourselves to haveentered a country so far civilised that we could get anything for money, and feeling greatly in need of consolation under the defeat we had sustained, we mustered courage to order a bottle of wine with our dinner. We had carefully eschewed liquor at the hotels in Siberia, not expecting great things there, and from a desire to discourage a taste which we should rarely have the means of gratifying. In old Kazan we had more confidence, and the classical names and aristocratic prices on the "wine card" of the Ryazin gave promise of something good. But we were only tantalised—the wine was not only of no recognisable species, but positively nauseous. We did get good fresh butter, however, an article, strange to say, scarce in Siberia, notwithstanding the abundance of milk. It is worth notice that the Russians have but one word,maslo, to signify butter, cart-grease, and oil in general. Can it be possible that the confusion of ideas frequently caused by this circumstance has given rise to the exaggerated, but generally believed, reports of the foul feeding of the Russians?
A diorama was being exhibited in a distant part of the huge building of the hotel. The pictures were mostly copies of originals in the Hermitage at St. Petersburg, and their merits were extolled after the usual fashion by the exhibitor in French and Russian. The attendance was fair, but the entertainment very so-so. The only impression I carried away was that the Russians of Kazan were easily amused.
On the following morning we again proceeded to the Volga to try our luck. The river had totally changed its appearance during the night. The thick masses of conglomerated ice and snow had disappeared. The open water had shifted from the right to the left bank, and the middle of the river was covered with a thin sheet of new ice, floating downwards. A boat was soon loaded by ourselves and a few other passengers, and half-a-dozen lusty moujiks tracked usslowly up the stream by means of a rope. Sometimes a towing path on the high bank was used, and sometimes a path was extemporised on the margin of solid ice, which in places was piled up in high sharp peaks that entangled the towing-rope. The master of the boat urged on his team, familiarly addressing them as "dogs," which I am bound in charity to consider as a term of endearment, when applied to Russian moujiks. When we had gained a position whence we could cross the river easily, the crew was brought on board, and the boat launched into mid-stream. The thin ice was easily broken up by poles and boat-hooks, and no great difficulty was experienced in effecting this passage. The Russian ferrymen have a very inconvenient habit of stopping to cross themselves, and mutter invocations to the saints while in the most critical situation. They do this sometimes at starting, but invariably when in the middle of the river. I frequently felt that we were put in peril by this ultra-superstitious practice, for often at the moment when the greatest care is needed to pilot the boat through treacherous ice-fields, the whole crew lay down their oars, take off their hats, and perform the ceremony. The Chinese sailors beat gongs and burn joss paper to ensure good luck on their voyage, but they are too sensible to endanger themselves by such superstitious observances, and on the whole, show less confidence in supernatural aid than in the appliances within their own control. "Prayer and provender never hinder a journey," is an excellent maxim within reasonable limits, but the practice of Russian ferrymen shows how the best of rules may be abused.
A number of small steamers were frozen in on the right bank of the Volga, as also a fleet of hulks elegantly fitted up with rooms on deck. These were the floating steam-boat and other offices, government offices, &c. In the season, when the navigation is open, and passenger steamers, tugs,and barges are plying to and fro, this part of the Volga must be a busy scene.
A sledge was sent for us at the farther side, and we were once moreen route. A tap-room, kept by a very low kind of Jew, is conveniently situated near the ferry on the right bank. Here the boatmen indulge themselves freely in liquor out of the proceeds of the harvest they make while the ice is forming. We got slightly warmed with tea in this house, but the publican objected to our drinking our own brandy "on the premises." The law was on his side, and we could say nothing, but the alternative of drinking the poison which he was licensed to sell was too repulsive, even had our need been greater than it was.
At Kazan and the Volga we observed that the Russianpourboirechanged fromna vodku("for brandy") tona tsai("for tea"), the latter being the common expression in Russia proper, and the former the current phrase in Siberia. Tea drinking is considered a matter of superlative importance in Russia. When a cab is hired for the day, the driver will ask for a quarter of an hour "to drink tea," and a little money on account to provide the means of doing so. People repair at stated times to atrakteer, or tavern, in Moscow and Petersburg to drink tea. After the opera, parties retire for the same purpose. It does not follow that tea is always the beverage patronised on these occasions. The tea drinking at midnight is more likely to consist of caviar, ryabchick, and champagne.
Our road lay parallel with the general line of the Volga, occasionally approaching near to some of the elbows of the river. The country is flat and marshy, but well cultivated, and farming villages are numerous. The villages and small towns are built on raised ground, whether naturally or artificially raised, I am uncertain. The most remarkable feature in the towns is the extraordinary number of churches. In one very small place I counted eight.
Oaks are abundant in the country between Kazan and Nijni-Novgorod, and the beech trees grow to a good size, and in beautiful form. The forest has been cleared away to make room for agriculture, and the bare flat is only relieved by the clumps of gnarled oak and the fine avenues of birch, which are planted in double rows on each side of the post-road. In winter, they looked handsome in their nakedness, and in the summer heats they will afford a grateful shade to travellers on the road for some hundreds of miles.
The roads were bad; but habit had inured us to that. The postal arrangements were, however, worse than anything we had experienced. The reason was obvious. This part of the road being only used for a few weeks, between the closing of the Volga navigation and the complete freezing of the river, no provision is made for the comfort of travellers in the way of covered conveyances. Having parted with our own sledge, we travelledperacladnoi, that is, changing at every station. No covered sledges could be procured for love or money, but so long as we could use sledges, the discomfort was not intolerable, although the snow became gradually scantier as we advanced westward. On the 28th, however, the little snow that remained melted, and some rain and sleet fell. Sledge-travelling was discontinued, and we had to resort to thetelega, simply an open cart without any springs. For the whole day we did dreadful penance in these lumbering vehicles, over the most atrocious roads that can be imagined. Our progress was, of course, slow in the extreme, and to complete the catalogue of our miseries, a heavy shower of sleet fell, which soaked our furs and wraps to such an extent that we could hardly bear their weight. In this pitiable condition we reached the last station before Nijni at 10 o'clock at night. We had resolved to pass the night there, and get our clothes dried before morning, deeming further exposure to the cold dangerous to our health. The surlybrute of a postmaster, whom it was our misfortune to meet, put his veto on our intentions. I shall never forget his face, nor his blue coat and brass buttons. He was one of those slaves, dressed in a little brief authority, whose sole experience had been the iron heel of tyranny planted on his neck, and whose one idea, when not licking the dust himself, was to make others do so if possible. It is a necessary result of a slavish education in some minds, that they cannot conceive of any other relation in life, than that of oppressor and oppressed. For the honour of Russian postmasters in general, I am glad to say that such specimens as the jack-in-office at Kstavo are rare. He refused us a fire, or a room, or any means of making ourselves decently comfortable, so after shivering for an hour we determined to resume our journey to Nijni. A hard frost had set in, accompanied by a keen wind that cut us to the bone. The misery we suffered during the last stage of our journey, was beyond all description. Never was I more grateful than when we gained admission to the hotel "Russia" at Nijni-Novgorod, at four o'clock next morning. Under the genial influence of a warm room and a dry bed, our miseries were soon forgotten, and the horrible experiences of the night dissolved into a dream that helped to intensify present enjoyment. "Sweet is pleasure after pain." There is no rest without labour, and happiness itself would be insipid without a seasoning of misery. Life, to be really enjoyed, must be chequered with light and shadow. The bright passages remain vivid in the memory, while the darker shades fade into forgetfulness.
The time to see Nijni-Novgorod is during the great fair which is held in July, and which attracts to the spot people of every race and language. The Nijni fair is one of the great commercial events in Russia. Goods are brought to it from vast distances, and as much business is done there in a few days as in many months in the larger cities. There areseveral other great fairs still held in Russia, such as the one at Irbit, in the west of Siberia. They are relics of an unsettled state of society, and will no doubt gradually give way before modern civilisation. The enormous cost of transport necessarily incurred in bringing merchandise to the fair, and in carrying it away again to its destination, does not equal the guild dues, and other charges, which the traders would have to bear, in order to do the same business in Moscow or Petersburg. The consuming population are, therefore, taxed out of all reason, with no advantage to the merchants, or to the government revenue. One merchant may, for example, take his wares from Moscow or Kiev to the fair at Nijni, and sell them to another, who carries them back to the point whence they were originally despatched, and the double expense of carriage may still be less than the cost of transacting the same business in the towns.[24]It cannot be that such a state of affairs can long withstand the inevitable march of enlightenment.
We of course saw Nijni-Novgorod at a disadvantage. The town was comparatively empty; the steam traffic which keeps the neighbourhood alive during the summer was all over for the season, and the rivers Volga and Oka looked deserted. The snow was melting fast, and the streets were a mass of slush. This, with a leaden sky and drizzling rain, rendered the town as miserable as can be imagined. The Oka joins the Volga at Nijni, and the town is situated on a high peninsula between the two rivers. The suburb in which the great fair is held is opposite the town, on the other side of the Oka, and there also is the terminus of the railway. At the time we passed, there was but one train a day to Moscow. It started at about four o'clock in the afternoon, and was calculated to arrive at Moscow—three hundred miles—about six or seven next morning.
Our journey virtually terminated with our joining the railway, for though still some 2500 miles from London, we had no more hardships to look forward to, no toilsome days, or sleepless nights, no hard fare, and no struggles with the elements. It was hard to realise the superlative comfort of a railway carriage in our shaken and shattered condition. It seemed too good to be true. The varied incidents of our four months of travel crowded on the memory, and we soon dropped into a delicious sleep amid confused visions of drunken yemschiks, broken wheels, diabolical roads, icebergs, and ferry-boats, with deserts and strings of camels dimly shadowed in the back ground. In the grey of the morning, we found ourselves in Moscow the Holy, and were soon comfortably settled in M. Billet's hotel. Our progress towards civilised comfort culminated here, and the luxury of bed and board at M. Billet's seemed a full compensation for the miseries of the road.
To do justice to the delights of Moscow would require a higher inspiration than I am blessed with, and all I could say about the Kremlin, its palaces and churches, the theatres, operas, &c., has been much better said already. The few days spent there seemed very short. Should I ever be tempted to revisit the fine old city, however, I hope the municipal council will have made some arrangement for lighting the streets with gas. In this respect they are sadly behind the age; and in a gay population like that of Moscow, which lives mostly at night, it is surprising that illumination has not before now been demanded by the popular voice. The portable gas which is carted about the streets in hogsheads, is a wretched makeshift. The sudden exhaustion of the supply of light frequently causes a theatrical performance to be interrupted until another hogshead of gas is procured; and during the interregnum young Russia delights in electrifying the audience by yelling and whistling, as if they would bring the house down.
A large building on the outskirts of Moscow was pointed out to us as the foundling hospital, a great institution in Russia, one of whose chief uses seems to be to rear ballet-girls, and most efficiently does it perform its functions.
From Moscow to Petersburg by railway is a monotonous and uninteresting journey, especially in winter. The country is flat and bare; here and there a patch of winter wheat struggled through the thin covering of snow, but the general aspect in the month of December was that of a desert. The only town of note on the line is Tver, on the Volga, where the railway crosses that river. In the construction of the line, the convenience of the various small towns has not been consulted. It was a purely imperial project to connect Moscow with Petersburg. It is said that when the engineers, who were engaged in the construction of the line, applied to the Emperor to know what curves they should make so as to pass through the most populous towns, he laid a ruler on the map, drew a straight line from Petersburg to Moscow, and bade them follow it.
Railways, like all other public works in Russia, have been constructed at enormous expense, from the peculations of the officials who had to do with them. It is related of the Emperor Nicholas, that when he had failed to impress certain Persian ambassadors with the magnificence of his capital, he turned in despair to Prince Menschikoff, and asked him whether there was nothing that would astonish them. The prince suggested that they might be shown the accounts of the Moscow railway.
We were not so favourably impressed with Petersburg, as a place of residence, as we had been with Moscow. It is a magnificent city, no doubt; its quays, bridges, "perspectives," palaces, and squares present a faultless exterior, and leave an impression of grandeur on the memory that makes other things small by comparison. But the chill of officialismrests on the place; it was created out of a swamp by the fiat of an emperor, and the imperial will is all-pervading still; you cannot shake off the idea. Looking down the "Nevsky," you take in at a glance miles of street laid out with mathematical accuracy, and the effect is very striking; you admire the magnificent Nicholas bridge that spans the Neva, a work that made the fortune of others besides the architect; in short, you admire everything separately and collectively about the capital, but the reflection always crops up that this fine city and the glory of it exists by the will of the emperor. Moscow is antiquated; its streets are not so straight, nor so wide, nor so regular; its buildings are not so imposing; but it is a natural and spontaneous growth; there is a more homely and comfortable air about it than Petersburg; and it was not built for the admiration of the world, but because people wanted houses to live in. Petersburg lacks the historical interest that invests the old capital, and it will be long before it displaces the holy city in the affections of the Russians, who one and all have a kind of superstitious reverence for Moscow. The Czars also hold the old city in high esteem, and are said to regard the Kremlin as the focus and ultimate asylum of their power.
The season was late in Petersburg. Up to the middle of December the little snow that fell melted. The temperature varied from a little above to a little below the freezing point. Some days the Neva brought down masses of floating ice from Lake Ladoga, and on other days the river was quite clear. I fear the pork-butchers of the interior were premature in sending in their supplies of frozen pigs, for they seemed very likely to get thawed in the mild atmosphere of Petersburg. The sky was constantly overcast, and the few hours of daylight were consequently cut short at both ends. Everything conspired to throw a gloom over the place, and the people were longing for their snow roads and theirsledges, their races and games on the Neva, and the pleasures of their winter season. The "Court" was at Tsarskoe-selo, writing despatches, while the Polish insurrection, the proposed congress of Paris, and the financial difficulties of the government, supplied food for gossip to all circles in the city. The reply of the Emperor to the invitation of his "good brother," as published in theJournal, excited universal admiration. And as for the currency crisis, everyone had some nostrum of his own which would infallibly put things right, but none of them seemed to touch the essential point, the supply of bullion.
Great activity prevailed in the government dockyards, where a number of iron-clads were being built. One of these building yards was close to Miss Benson's, where I lived, and we got the full benefit of the clanging of hammers, from a very early hour in the morning, till the latest hour at night at which we happened to be awake. I believe they worked day and night, as if busily preparing for war. Some vessels had been hurried out of England unfinished, and enormous quantities of iron-plating, and other materials, had been imported from England for vessels to be constructed in Russia. The yards we were shown through were all under the superintendence of English firms, and Englishmen occupy responsible positions in the admiralty. The number of iron-cased frigates in progress at Petersburg and Kronstadt, is sufficient to account for the abstraction of bullion from the government treasury in such amounts as to derange the paper currency of the country.
But the financial disturbance is of some years' standing, although it has gradually been getting worse. It dates from the Crimean war, which drained the resources of Russia, both in men and treasure, to an extent which the government has been reluctant to admit. The difficulty was met at the time by the increased issue of paper-money,which government has never been able to redeem. The crisis was not much felt until the Polish insurrection again taxed the energies of the government, while it was still languishing under the effects of the Crimean war, and unprepared for this fresh demand on its resources. This was probably the real reason why the government was so slow to meet the emergency in Poland with adequate means. More paper-money had to be issued, unrepresented by bullion, and unconvertible. The paper currency became depreciated twelve to fifteen per cent. below its ostensible value, and in the uncertainty that prevailed as to the future, business was for a time brought almost to a stand. All the financiers of Russia have been labouring to restore the equilibrium, but as yet their best laid schemes have failed, for none of them has discovered the means of replenishing the bank treasury.
The most casual observer cannot fail to mark the respect in which all classes in Russia hold the Emperor. In the most distant provinces, indeed, the peasants regard the Czar as a kind of demi-god who, if he could only be informed of their grievances, would set all to rights. But in Petersburg, where his majesty may be seen any day in the street, divested of ethereal attributes, the people love him. The contrast between the reign of the present emperor and that of his father is very striking. Formerly the interests of agriculture, manufactures, and commerce were sacrificed to the ambitious schemes of the Czar. The military glory of the empire, and the imperial projects of aggrandisement absorbed the energies of government; and to promote these ends the substance of the country was wasted. That is all changed now. The Emperor Alexander II. from the time of his accession has devoted his energies to the amelioration of the condition of the people, to the encouragement of native industry, to the economising of the national resources, and to promoting theefficiency of the executive. Reforms have been set on foot in all departments of the state,—military, legislative, financial, and social. Success has attended many of these new measures; many are still in progress; but the great work is only begun. It is an important step gained, however, that the government has become alive to the need of administrative reform, and if the life of the present monarch be spared to the age of his father, he will have left his country a century in advance of where he found it.
The Russian soldier is now smart and well equipped, well armed, well fed, and well treated. Military discipline has been greatly improved, and the men have now to go through regular courses of gymnastics. The army is undergoing a transformation. Recruiting is more regular. The term of service has been reduced to fifteen years, but practically it is much less. The soldiers begin to look like civilised beings, and to acquire self-respect.
Important reforms in the legislature of Russia have also been introduced. The term of penal servitude has been greatly reduced. A project of law-reform which will include trial by jury is under deliberation. This, if carried, will be a startling innovation in Russia; and will no doubt be the precursor of many other popular measures.
A budget is now published yearly, which, though it is not of much practical utility, is nevertheless in some sort a recognition of the political rights of the people.
The police, customs, and the navy are all being subjected to improvements more or less important; in short, the spirit of reform has been so active, that its influence pervades every institution, except perhaps the Church. Some evils have necessarily attended the recent changes. For example, the abolition of the brandy farm, and the substitution of a system of excise, by reducing the cost, has increased the consumption of spirits among the peasantry. The fatal consequencesof excess threatened to be alarming in some parts of the country, and I heard great complaints in Siberia of the increase of drunkenness. But as a financial measure it has been very successful. The excise duty on spirits in 1863 gave the government 117,000,000 silver (i.e., paper) roubles, which is more than one-third of its gross annual revenue.
The revenues of the Russian government are still susceptible of great development. The system of corruption that prevailed so long that it had become almost respectable, has been attacked, but it must be rooted up before the government can reap the full harvest of its own financial resources. This is not a matter of easy accomplishment, however, as the men from whom the Emperor is entitled to look for support are themselves directly interested in the continuance of the old system of universal peculation. The vast extent of territory also over which the government executive is diffused, adds greatly to the difficulty of the radical reform of time-honoured abuses.
No annoyance of any kind, either about passports or luggage was experienced by us in arriving at, or departing from Petersburg; but the pleasantest impression the Czarish capital left on my mind was that of the kindness and hospitality of my own countrymen, and of all others whom I happened to meet there.