CHAPTER XI.

Horned cattle7,719Horses6,029Merino sheep412,274Fruit-trees in the gardens316,011Forest trees609,096

These last have since perished for the most part. The sale of wheat in 1838, amounted to 600,000 rubles. The provisions for public instruction are highly satisfactory. The colony numbers forty schools, attended by 2390 pupils of both sexes, who are taught the German language, arithmetic, history, and geography. Russian is also taught in two of the schools.

The Mennonites, as well as the other German colonists of Southern Russia, for a long while enjoyed a very special protection on the part of the government; and both the present sovereign and his predecessor have on several occasions given them signal proofs of their favour. But unhappily their committee was suppressed eighteen months ago, and this measure will be fatal to them. They had long looked forward with alarm to a change in their affairs, and sent manydeputations to St. Petersburg, to solicit a continuance of the original system: their efforts were ineffectual; the work of centralization and unity has involved them in their turn, and they are now in immediate dependence on the newly-constituted ministry of the domains of the crown. No doubt the government had a full right to act in this manner; and after having allowed the colonists to enjoy their peculiar privileges for such a long series of years, it may now, without incurring any obloquy, subject them to the ordinary system of administration prevalent in the empire. But it is not the less certain, seeing the corruption and venality of the Russian functionaries, that this change of system will lead to the ruin of the colonists, and that, notwithstanding all the efforts and the good intentions of the government, when once the Germans are put under the same management as the crown serfs, they will be unable to save their property from the rapacity of their new controlers. The colonies have been but a few months under the direction of the ministry of the domains, and already several hundred families have abandoned their dwellings and their lands, and retired to Germany. I saw a great number of them arrive in 1842, in Moldavia, where they thought to form some settlements; but they did not succeed.

Besides the German colonies of which we have been speaking, there are others in the environs of Nicolaïef and Odessa, in Bessarabia and the Crimea, and about the coasts of the sea of Azov. Altogether these foreign colonies in New Russia, number upwards of 160 villages, containing more than 46,000 souls. In the midst of them are several villages inhabited by Russian dissenters, entertaining nearly the same religious views as the Mennonites and Anabaptists. These are the Douckoboren and Molokaner, who separated from the national church about 160 years ago, at which time they were resident in several of the central provinces; but the government being alarmed at the spread of their doctrines, transported them forcibly to New Russia, where it placed them under military supervision. Here they admirably availed themselves of the examples set them by the Germans, and soon attained a high degree of prosperity. In 1839, they amounted to a population of 6617 souls, occupying thirteen villages. Most of their houses were in the German style, and every thing about them was indicative of plenty. Two years after this first visit to them, I met on the road from Taganrok to Rostof, two large detachments of exiles escorted by two battalions of infantry. They were the unfortunate dissenters of the Moloshnia, who had been expelled from their villages, and were on their way to the military lines of the Caucasus. The most perfect decorum and the most touching resignation appeared in the whole body. The women alone showed signs of anger, whilst the men sang hymns in chorus. I asked several of them whither they were going; their answer was "God only knows."

After leaving the German colonies, we passed through several villages of Nogaï Tatars. We shall reserve what we have to say of these people for another place.

[5]The Moloshnia Vodi (Milk River) is a little stream emptying itself between Berdiansk and Guenitshky into the liman of a lake which no longer communicates with the Sea of Azov.

[5]The Moloshnia Vodi (Milk River) is a little stream emptying itself between Berdiansk and Guenitshky into the liman of a lake which no longer communicates with the Sea of Azov.

MARIOUPOL—BERDIANSK—KNAVISH JEW POSTMASTER—TAGANROK—MEMORIALS OF PETER THE GREAT AND ALEXANDER—GREAT FAIR—THE GENERAL WITH TWO WIVES—MORALITY IN RUSSIA—ADVENTURES OF A PHILHELLENE—A FRENCH DOCTOR—THE ENGLISH CONSUL—HORSE RACES—A FIRST SIGHT OF THE KALMUCKS.

MARIOUPOL—BERDIANSK—KNAVISH JEW POSTMASTER—TAGANROK—MEMORIALS OF PETER THE GREAT AND ALEXANDER—GREAT FAIR—THE GENERAL WITH TWO WIVES—MORALITY IN RUSSIA—ADVENTURES OF A PHILHELLENE—A FRENCH DOCTOR—THE ENGLISH CONSUL—HORSE RACES—A FIRST SIGHT OF THE KALMUCKS.

Our arrival in Marioupol unpleasantly reminded us that we were no longer in the German colonies. A dirty inn-room, horses not forthcoming, bread not to be had, nor even fresh water, rudeemployés—every thing in short was in painful contrast with the comfort and facilities to which we became accustomed in our progress through the thriving villages of the Mennonites.

Marioupol is the chief place of an important colony founded on the shores of the Sea of Azov, at the mouth of the Kalmious, by the Greeks whom Catherine II. removed thither from the Crimea in 1784. It now reckons eighty villages, a population of about 30,000, occupying 450,000hectares[6]of land. The taxes paid by these colonists amount to ten kopeks perhectare; in addition to which, each family contributes one ruble fifty kopeks towards the salary of the government officers in their district. They enjoy several privileges, have their own magistrates and subordinate judges, elected by themselves, and are exempt from military service. Criminal cases and suits not terminated before their own tribunals, come under the general laws and regulations of the empire.

Agriculture and commerce are the chief resources of the colony, but I have seen no trace of the mulberry plantations attributed to it.

Having been for a long series of ages subject to the khans of the Crimea, all these Greeks speak a corrupt Tatar dialect among themselves. They are on the whole a degenerate and thoroughly unprincipled race, particularly in Marioupol, the traders of which enrich themselves by robbing the agriculturists, who are forced to sell them their produce.

Marioupol is a large dirty village, and its port, which has only a custom-house of exit, is nothing but a paltry roadstead of little depth, in which vessels are sheltered from none but western winds. With the exception of a solitary brig, there were only some small coasting vessels in it when we visited the place. Its export trade is considerable notwithstanding, amounting to the annual value of four or five millions of francs.

Marioupol is infallibly destined to lose all its commercial importance since the foundation of the new and more advantageously-situated harbour of Berdiansk, to which the greater part of the produce of the surrounding country already takes its way. As a general rule, one town of Southern Russia can prosper only at the expenseand by the abandonment of another; thus Kherson has been sacrificed to Odessa, Theodosia to Kertch, &c. It must, however, be owned that the preference given to Berdiansk is well grounded. Placed at the mouth of the Berda, that town is unquestionably the best port on the Sea of Azov. Its population in 1840 was 1258, and during the year 1839 it exported 187,761 tchetverts of wheat; its importation is a blank as yet.

After waiting several hours we at last procured horses that conveyed us rapidly to the next post; but there we had another stoppage. The clerk had a fancy to squeeze our purses, and knew no better way of doing so than by refusing us horses. Commands, threats, and abuse, never for a moment ruffled his dogged composure. Unfortunately our Cossack had been seized with a violent fever, and remained behind at Marioupol; had he been with us the clerk would hardly have ventured on his tricks, for he would have been sure of a sound drubbing. But this manner of enforcing compliance was not in our way, and as we had written authority to hire horses from the peasants wherever we found them, we sent Anthony to the next village, and thought no more about being supplied by the postmaster. Our unconcern began to alarm the clerk; gangs of horses were every moment returning from pasture, and he saw plainly that his position was becoming critical. After an hour's absence Anthony appeared in the distance with three stout horses and a driver. I will not attempt to depict the consternation of the Jew when he was assured that the team was really for us. He threw himself at our feet, knocked his head against the ground, and in short, evinced such a passion of grovelling fear, that disgusted and wearied with his importunities, we at last promised not to make any complaint against him. We made all haste to quit the spot, and in five hours afterwards we were in Taganrok.

The town, situated on the bay of the same name at the northern extremity of the Sea of Azov, is the chief place of a distinct administrative district, dependent on Iekaterinoslav only as regards the courts of law, and comprising within its limits, Rostof, Marioupol, Nakitchevane, and a little territory lying round the northern end of the sea, and encompassed by the country of the Don. Its boundaries are, on one side, the Mious, which falls into the Sea of Azov, and on the other side, the Government of the Cossacks of the Black Sea.

Taganrok was founded in 1706, by Peter the Great, after the taking of Azov, and was demolished in pursuance of the treaty of the Pruth. War with Turkey having been renewed, it was rebuilt in 1709, and fortified; and a harbour was constructed, surrounded with a mole, the remains of which are still seen just level with the surface of the water.

This harbour is a long rectangle, with a single entrance towards the west. There is some idea of renovating it, by reconstructing its mole, and clearing it of the sand with which it has been longchoked; but this project, if carried into effect, will not remove the natural defects of the Taganrok roadstead. The water is so low, that vessels are obliged to lie from four to six leagues off the shore, and to load and unload their cargoes in a curious round-about, and very expensive manner. Waggons surmounted with platforms loaded with grain, perform the first part of the process, and advance in files, often to a distance of half a league into the sea. There they are unloaded into large barges, and these almost always require the aid of a third auxiliary, before their freight is finally shipped.

On approaching Taganrok, one almost fancies the town before him is Odessa. Its position on the Sea of Azov, the character of the landscape, its churches, its great extent, and every feature of the place, even to the fortress commanding it, combine to favour the illusion.

Taganrok has thriven rapidly, as Peter the Great foresaw it would do, and has become one of the most commercial towns of Southern Russia. Its trade, however, has considerably diminished since the suppression of its lazaret, and the closure of the Sea of Azov, in consequence of a fifty days' quarantine established at Kertch. The town now contains 16,000 inhabitants.

Peter the Great's sojourn in Taganrok, is commemorated by an oak wood of his own planting. Such a memorial of a great prince is certainly better than a pompous monument; more durable, and more philanthropic, particularly in a country destitute of forests.

It was at Taganrok that the Emperor Alexander died, far away from the splendours of St. Petersburg. As we visited the modest dwelling that served him for his last abode, all the events of the great epoch in which he was one of the most illustrious actors crowded on our memories. The bed-room where he died has been converted into achapelle ardente, but in every other respect the house has been preserved with religious care, just as he left it.

There was a fair in the town when we arrived. The suffocating heat, the clouds of dust, and the crowded state of all the hotels, at first made us look unfavourably on the place, but the diversions of the fair soon reconciled us to the inconveniences of our lodgings.

In Russia, fairs still retain an importance they scarcely any longer possess in our more civilised countries. Every town has its own, which is more or less frequented; that of Nijni Novgorod is reputed the most considerable on the European continent; all the nations of Europe and Asia, send their representatives to it. Next after it, the fair of Karkhof, is in high esteem among merchants for its rich furs. These fairs often last more than a month, and they are impatiently looked forward to by all the country nobles, whom they enable for a while to breathe as it were the odour of fashionable town life. Balls, theatres, shopping, music, horse races—what a world of pleasures in the compass of a few days! And every onesets about enjoying them with feverish ardour. Every thing else is interrupted; the fair to-day, all other concerns to-morrow. At some little distance from Taganrok, there are huge bazaars filled with oriental merchandise, and the covered alleys are crowded with fashionable loungers in the evening. A very curious spectacle indeed is this labyrinth of Persian cloths, slippers, furs, Parisian bonnets and caps, shawls from Kashmir, and a thousand other articles too numerous to detail. Every thing is arranged to the best advantage, and the eye is delighted with the picturesque and fantastic medley of colours and forms.

Europe and Asia are matched against each other, and exert all their arts of fascination to allure purchasers. In spite of all the elegance of the French fashions, it must be owned that our little bonnets and our scanty mantillas cut but a sorry figure beside the muslins interwoven with gold and silver, the rich termalamas and the furs that adorn the shops of the country. And yet all eyes, all desires, all purses turn towards the productions of France. Some faded ribands and trumpery bonnets attract a greater number of pretty customers than all the gorgeous wares of Asia.

During our stay at Taganrok, we were invited to a ball at the mansion of General Khersanof, son-in-law of the celebrated Hetman Platof. The general possesses the handsomest residence in the town, and keeps his state like a real prince, amidst the motley society of a commercial town. All his apartments are stuccoed and decorated with equal taste and magnificence. The windows consist of single panes of plate glass more than three yards high. The furniture, lustres, ceilings, and pictures, all display a feeling for the fine arts, and a sumptuosity governed by good taste, which may well surprise us in a Cossack.

In front of the mansion lies a handsome garden, which was lighted up with coloured lamps for the occasion. The whole front of the dwelling was brilliantly illuminated. It was a magiccoup d'œil, particularly as it was aided by the transparent atmosphere of a beautiful summer night, that vied in purity with the clearest of those of the south.

On entering the firstsalon, we were met by the general, who immediately presented us to his two wives. But the reader will say, is bigamy allowed among the Cossacks? Not exactly so; but if the laws and public opinion are against it, still a man of high station may easily evade both; and General Khersanof has been living for many years in open, avowed bigamy, without finding that hissalonsare the less frequented on account of such a trifle. In Russia, wealth covers every thing with its glittering veil, and sanctions every kind of eccentricity, however opposed to the usages of the land, provided it redeem them by plenty of balls and entertainments. Public opinion, such as exists in France, is here altogether unknown. The majority leave scruples of conscience to timorous souls, without even so much as acknowledging their merit.

A man the slave of his word, and a woman of her reputation, could not be understood in a country where caprice reigns asabsolute sovereign. A Russian lady, to whom I made some remarks on this subject, answerednaïvely, that none but low people could be affected by scandal, inasmuch as censure can only proceed from superiors. She was perfectly right, for, situated as the nobility are, who would dare to criticise and condemn their faults? In order that public opinion should exist, there must be an independent class, capable of uttering its judgments without fearing the vengeance of those it calls before its bar; there must be a free country in which the acts of every individual may be impartially appreciated; in short, the words justice, honour, honesty, and delicacy of feeling must have a real meaning, instead of being the sport of an elegant and corrupt caste, that systematically makes a mock of every thing not subservient to its caprices and passions.

Notwithstanding their opulence, and the society that frequents theirsalons, Mesdames Khersanof retain a simplicity of manners and costume in curious contrast with every thing around them. An embarrassed air, vulgar features, an absence of all dignity in bearing and in conversation, and an ungainly style of dress—this was all that struck us as most remarkable about them. The younger wore a silk gown of a sombre colour, with a short body and straight sleeves, and so narrow that it might be taken for a bag. A silk kerchief covered her shoulders and part of her neck, and her little cap put me strongly in mind of the head-gear of our master-cooks. The whole costume was mean, awkward, and insipid. Except a few brilliants in her girdle and her cap, she showed no other trace of that Asiatic splendour which is still affected by many other women of this country.

It is said that the two co-wives live on the best possible terms with each other. The general seems quite at his ease with respect to them, and goes from the one to the other with the same marks of attention and affection. His first wife is very old, and might be taken for the mother of the second. We were assured that being greatly distressed at having no children, she had herself advised her husband to make a new choice. The general fixed on a very pretty young peasant working on his own property. In order to diminish the great disparity of rank between them, he married her to one of his officers, who, on coming out of church, received orders to depart instantly on a distant mission, from which he never returned. Some time afterwards the young woman was installed in the general's brilliant mansion, and presented to all his acquaintance as Madame Khersanof.

Two charming daughters are the fruit of this not very orthodox union. Dressed in seraphines of blue silk, they performed the Russian and the Cossack dances with exquisite grace, and enchanted us during the whole continuance of the ball. The Russian dance fascinates by its simplicity and poetry, and differs entirely from all other national dances: it consists not so much in the steps, as in a pensive, natural pantomime, in which northern calmness and gravity are tempered by a charming grace and timidity. Less impassioned than the dancesof Spain, it affects the senses with a gentle langour which it is not easy to resist.

We met with a Frenchman at Taganrok, a real hero of romance. At eighteen his adventurous temper impelled him to quit the service to go and play a part in the Greek revolution. He participated in all the chances and dangers of the struggle against the Turks; and battling sometimes as a guerrillero, sometimes as a seaman, and sometimes as a diplomatist, he was thrown into more or less immediate contact with all those who shed such a lustre on the war of independence. In one of his campaigns he chanced to save the life of a young and pretty Smyrniote, whom he lost no time in marrying and bearing far away from the scenes of massacre with which the whole archipelago then abounded. A Russian nobleman advised him to repair to Moscow, and furnished him with the means. His wife's magnificent Greek costume, her youth and beauty, produced an intense sensation in that capital. The whole court, which was then in Moscow, was full of interest for the young Smyrniote, and the empress even sought to attach her to her person by the most tempting offers. Madame de V. refused them, preferring to remain with her husband, whose conduct, however, was far from irreproachable. Being young, very handsome, and of an enterprising character, his successes among the Muscovite ladies were very numerous; and he was everywhere known by the name of the handsome Frenchman.

An adventure that made a great deal of noise, and in which a lady of the court had completely compromised her reputation for his sake, obliged him to quit Moscow in the midst of his triumphs. He then led his wife from one capital to another, presenting her everywhere as an interesting victim of the Greek revolution. After this European tour, he returned to Paris, where he passed some years. Many eminent artists of that city painted the portrait of his wife, who is still very beautiful. In 1838 he left Paris and settled in Taganrok as a teacher of the French language; and there this poet, traveller, man of the world, andbeau cavalieris throwing away almost all his advantages, which are of little service to him in the walk he has chosen, and in a town where there are so few persons capable of appreciating him.

Our whole colony in Taganrok consists of Doctor Meunier, who acts as consul; M. de V., and a Provençal lady, who keeps a boarding-school.

This Doctor Meunier is another original. He passed I know not how many years in the service of the Shah of Persia, who had a great regard for him, and invested him on his departure with the order of the sun, a magnificent decoration, more brilliant than that of a grand cordon.

Having shrewdly availed himself of his extensive opportunities for observation, his acquaintance is highly to be prized by all who love to give their imagination free scope: his graphic and marvellousstories are like pages from the Arabian Nights. In an instant, he sets before his hearers palaces of gold and azure, bewitching almehs, towns ruined to their foundations, towers of human heads, a French milliner superintending the education of Persian ladies, princes, beggars, dervishes, unbounded luxury side by side with the most hideous poverty, and all that the East can show to move, allure, or terrify the soul.

One of the houses that offer most attractions for foreigners, is that of Mr. Yeams, brother of the English consul-general of Odessa. We found him possessed of all his brother's amiable qualities and perfect tact. When the English can shake off the stiffness with which they are so justly reproached, and their immoderate pride, they are perhaps the most agreeable of all acquaintances. They generally possess strong powers of observation and analysis, large and sound information, genuine dignity of conduct, and above all, a good-humoured kindliness, that is more winning for the pains they take to conceal it.

While looking over Mr. Yeams' English, French, and German library, and the journals of all nations that lie on the tables, it is not easy to believe oneself on the shores of the Sea of Azov, and on the outskirts of Europe. The "Journal des Débats," the "Times," and the "Augsburg Gazette," put youau courantof the affairs of Europe, as though Paris and London were not a thousand leagues away from you.

It is not to be conceived into what a confusion of ideas one is cast at first, by the sight of a room filled with books, maps, journals, familiar articles of furniture, and people talking French: you ask yourself what is become of the days and nights you have spent in galloping post, the vast extent of sea you have crossed, the leagues of land and water, the regions and the climes you have left between you and your native country.

With the advances civilisation is daily making, distances will soon be annulled; for distance to my thinking, consists not in difference of longitude, but in diversity of manners and ideas. I certainly felt myself nearer to France in Taganrok than I should have been in certain cantons of Switzerland or Germany.

On the eve of our departure we attended some horse-races, that interested us only by the number and the variety of the spectators. There we began to make acquaintance with the Kalmucks, some of whom had come to the fair to sell their horses, the breed of which is in great request throughout the south of Russia. There was nothing very captivating in the Mongol features and savage appearance of these worshippers of the Grand Lama; and when I saw the jealous and disdainful looks they cast on those around them, and heard their loud yells whenever a horse passed at full speed before them, I could not help feeling some apprehension at the thought that I should soon have to throw myself on their hospitality.

Taganrok has the strongest resemblance to a Levantine town, somuch are its Greek and Italian inhabitants in a majority over the rest of the population. Such was the perpetual hubbub, that we could hardly persuade ourselves we were in Russia, where the people usually make as little noise as possible, lest the echo of their voices should reach St. Petersburg. The Greeks, though subjected to the imperialrégime, are less circumspect, and retain under the northern sky the vivacity and restless temperament that characterise their race. We particularly admired that day, a number of young Greek women, whose black eyes and elegant figures attracted every gaze. A string of carriages was drawn up round part of the race-course, and enabled us to review all the aristocratic families of the town and neighbourhood. The ladies were dressed as for a ball, with short sleeves, their heads uncovered and decked with flowers.

A blazing sun and whirlwinds of dust, such as would be thought fabulous in any other country, soon dimmed all this finery, and drove away most of the spectators: we were not the last to seek refuge in the covered alleys of a neighbouring bazaar, where we had ices and delicious water-melons set before us in the Armenian café for a few kopeks.

[6]Ahectareis a little more than two acres.

[6]Ahectareis a little more than two acres.

DEPARTURE FROM TAGANROK—SUNSET IN THE STEPPES—A GIPSY CAMP—ROSTOF; A TOWN UNPARALLELED IN THE EMPIRE—NAVIGATION OF THE DON—AZOV; ST. DIMITRI—ASPECT OF THE DON—NAKITCHEVANE, AND ITS ARMENIAN COLONY.

DEPARTURE FROM TAGANROK—SUNSET IN THE STEPPES—A GIPSY CAMP—ROSTOF; A TOWN UNPARALLELED IN THE EMPIRE—NAVIGATION OF THE DON—AZOV; ST. DIMITRI—ASPECT OF THE DON—NAKITCHEVANE, AND ITS ARMENIAN COLONY.

As we turned our backs on Taganrok, we could easily foresee what we should have to suffer during our journey. A long drought and a temperature of 99° had already changed the verdant plains of the Don into an arid desert. At times the wind raised such billows of dust around us, that the sky was completely veiled from our eyes; our breath failed us, and the blood boiled in our ears; our sufferings for the moment were horrible. The hot air of a conflagration does not cause a more painful sense of suffocation than that produced by the wind of the desert. The horses could not stand against it, but stopped and hung down their heads, seeming as much distressed as ourselves.

As we approached the Don the country was not quite such a dead, unbroken flat as before; a few Cossack stanitzas began to show themselves among the clumps of trees on the banks of the river. Deep gullies lined with foliage, and the traces of several streams, show how agreeable this part of the steppes must be in spring; but at the period of our journey every thing had been dried up and almost calcined by the rays of a sun which no cloud had obscured for two months.

Before reaching Rostof, we passed through a large Armenianvillage. Its picturesque position, in the midst of a ravine, and the oriental fashion of its houses, give some interest and variety to these lonely regions, and transiently busy the imagination. The evening promised to be very beautiful; something serene, calm, and melancholy, had succeeded to the enervating heat of the day.

Sunset in the steppes is like sunset nowhere else. In a country of varied surface, the gradually lengthening shadows give warning long beforehand that the sun is approaching the horizon. But here there is nothing to intercept its rays until the moment it sinks below the line of the steppe; then the night falls with unequalled rapidity; in a few moments all trace is gone of that brilliant luminary that just before was making the whole west ablaze. It is a magnificent transformation, a sudden transition to which the grandeur of the scene adds almost supernatural majesty and strangeness.

Fatigued by the rapidity with which we had been travelling since we left Taganrok, I took advantage of our halt at a post station, not far from the village, to ascend the rising ground that concealed the road from my view.

As I have said, the night had come down suddenly, and there remained in the west but a few pale red stripes that were fading away with every second. At the opposite point of the horizon the broad red glowing moon, such as it appears when it issues from the sea, was climbing majestically towards the zenith, and already filled that region of the heavens with a soft and mysterious radiance. The greater part of the steppe was still in gloom, whilst a golden fringe marked the limits of earth and sky: the effect was very singular and splendid.

When I reached the summit of the hill an involuntary cry of surprise and alarm escaped me. I remained motionless before the unexpected scene that presented itself to my eyes—a whole gipsy camp, realising one of Sir Walter Scott's most striking fictions. Dispersed over the whole surface of the globe, and placed at the bottom of the social scale, this vagrant people forms in Russia, as elsewhere, a real tribe of pariahs, whose presence is regarded with disgust, even by the peasants. The government has attempted to settle a colony of these Bedouins of Europe in Bessarabia, but with little success hitherto. True to the traditional usages of their race, the Tsigans abhor every thing belonging to agriculture and regular habits. No bond has ever been found strong enough to check that nomade humour they inherit from their forefathers, and which has resisted the rude climate of Russia and the despotism of its government. Just as in Italy and Spain, they roam from village to village, plying various trades, stealing horses, poultry, and fruit, telling fortunes, procuring by fraud or entreaty the means of barely keeping themselves alive, and infinitely preferring such a vagabond and lazy existence to the comfort they might easily secure with a moderate amount of labour.

Their manner of travelling reminds one of the emigrations ofbarbarous tribes. Marching always in numerous bodies, they pass from place to place with all they possess. The women, children, and aged persons, are huddled together in a sort of cart calledpavoshk, drawn each by one or two small horses with long manes. All their wealth consists of a few coarse brown blankets, which form their tents by night, and in some tools employed in their chief trade, that of farriery.

All travellers who have visited Russia, speak with enthusiasm of the gipsy singing heard in the Moscowsalons. No race perhaps possesses an aptitude for music in a higher degree than these gipsies. In many other respects too, their intelligence appeared to us remarkable. A long abode in Moldavia, where there are said to be more than 100,000 Tsigans, enabled us to study with facility the curious habits of this people, and to collect a great number of facts, which would not perhaps be without interest for the majority of readers.[7]

The Tsigans pass the fine season in travelling from fair to fair, encamping for some weeks in the neighbourhood of the towns, and living, heedless of the future, in thorough Asiatic indolence; but when the snows set in, and the northern blasts sweep those vast plains as level as the sea, the condition of these wretched creatures is such, as may well excite the strongest pity. But half clad, cowling in huts sunk below the surface of the ground, and destitute of the commonest necessaries, it is inconceivable how they live through the winter. Horrible as such a state of existence must be, they never give it a thought from the moment the breath of the south enables them to resume their vagrant career. Recklessness is the predominant feature in their character, and the most frightful sufferings cannot force them to bestow a moment's consideration on the future.

The singular apparition that had suddenly arrested my steps by the road side, was that of a troop of gipsies encamped for the night in that lonely spot, about thirty yards from the road, near a field of water-melons. Theirpavoshkswere arranged in a circle, with the shafts turned upwards, and support the cloths of their tents, which could only be entered by creeping on all fours. Two large fires burned at a little distance from the tents, and round them sat about fifty persons of the most frightful appearance. Their sooty colour, matted hair, wild features, and the rags that scarcely covered them, seen by the capricious light of the flames, that sometimes glared up strongly, and at other moments suddenly sank down and left every thing in darkness, produced a sort of demoniacal spectacle, that recalled to the imagination those sinister scenes of which they have so long been made the heroes.

The history of all that is most repulsive in penury and the habits of a vagrant life, was legible in their haggard faces, in the restless expression of their large black eyes, and the sort of voluptuousness with which they grovelled in the dust; one would have said it was their native element, and that they felt themselves born for the mire with all swarming creatures of uncleanness. The women especially appeared hideous to me. Covered only with a tattered petticoat, their breasts, arms, and part of their legs bare, their eyes haggard, and their faces almost hidden under their straggling locks, they retained no semblance of their sex, or even of humanity.

The faces of some old men struck me, however, by their perfect regularity of features, and by the contrast between their white hair and the olive hue of their skins. All were smoking, men, women, and children. It is a pleasure they esteem almost as much as drinking spirits. What painter's imagination ever conceived a wilder or more fantastic picture!

Hitherto they had not perceived me, but the noise of our carriage, which was rapidly advancing, and my husband's voice, put them on the alert. The whole gang instantly started to their feet, and I found myself, not without some degree of dread, surrounded by a dozen of perfectly naked children, all bawling to me for alms. Some young girls seeing the fright I was in began to sing in so sweet and melodious a manner, that even our Cossack seemed affected. We remained a long while listening to them, and admiring the picturesque effect of their encampment in the steppes, under the beautiful and lucid night sky. No thought of serious danger crossed our minds, and, indeed, it would have been quite absurd; but in any other country than Russia such an encounter would have been far from agreeable.

In the course of the following day we reached Rostof, a pretty little town on the Don, entirely different in appearance from the other Russian towns. You have here none of the cold, monotonous straight lines that afflict the traveller's sight from one end of the empire to the other; but the inequality of the ground, and the wish to keep near the harbour, have obliged the inhabitants to build their houses in an irregular manner, which has a very picturesque effect.

The population, too, a mixture of Russians, Greeks, and Cossacks, have in their ways and habits nothing at all analogous to the systematic stiffness and military drill that seem to regulate all the actions of the Russians. The influence of a people long free has changed even the character of the chanceryemployés, who are here exempt from that arrogance and self-sufficiency that distinguish the petty nobles of Russia. Hence society is much more agreeable in Rostof than in most of the continental towns. The ridiculous pretensions oftchin(rank) do not there assail you at every step; there is a complete fusion of nationality, tastes, and ideas, to the great advantage of all parties.

This secret influence exercised by the Cossacks on the Russians, is worthy of note, and seems to prove that the defects of the latter are attributable rather to their political system, than to the inherent character of the nation.

Their natural gaiety, kept down by the secret inquisition of a sovereign power, readily gets the upper hand when opportunity offers. The public functionaries associate freely in Rostof, with the Cossacks and the Greek merchants, without any appearance of the haughty exclusiveness elsewhere conspicuous in their class.

One thing that greatly surprised us, and that shows how much liberal ideas are in favour in this town, is the establishment of a sort of casino, where all grades of society assemble on Sunday, to dance and hold parties of pleasure. This is without a parallel elsewhere.

This casino contains a large ball-room, handsome gardens, billiard and refreshment-rooms, and every thing else that can be desired in an establishment of the sort. Though all persons are at liberty to enter without payment, it is nevertheless frequented by the best society, who dance there as heartily as in the most aristocraticsalons. All distinctions vanish in the casino: public functionaries, shopkeepers, officers' wives, work-girls, foreigners, persons, in short, of all ranks and conditions mingle together, forming an amusing pell-mell, that reminds one, by its unceremonious gaiety, of thebals champêtresof the environs of Paris. Every thing is a matter of surprise to the traveller in this little town, so remote from all civilisation: the hotels are provided with good restaurants, clean chambers, each furnished with a bed, and all appurtenances complete (a thing unheard of everywhere else in the interior of Russia), besides many other things that are hardly to be found even in Odessa.

Rostof is the centre of all the commerce of the interior of the empire, with the Sea of Azov, and with a large portion of the Russian coasts of the Black Sea. Through this town pass all the productions of Siberia, and the manufactured goods intended for consumption throughout the greater part of Southern Russia. These goods are floated down the Volga as far as Doubofka, in the vicinity of Saritzin. They are then carried by land, a distance of about thirty-eight miles to Kahilnitzkaia, where they are embarked on the Don, and conveyed to Rostof, their generalentrepôt. The barges on the Don and the Volga are flat; 112 feet long, from twenty to twenty-six wide, and about six feet deep. They draw only two feet of water, and cost from 300 to 500 rubles. They are freighted with timber and firewood, mats, bark, pitch, tar, hemp, cables, and cordage, pig and wrought iron, pieces of artillery, anchors, lead, copper, butter, &c. The whole traffic and navigation of the Don, down stream, from Kahalnitzkaia, depends on the arrivals from the Volga. The barges employed on the latter river, being put together with wooden bolts, are taken asunder at Doubofka,and laid with their cargoes in carts, on which they are conveyed to the banks of the Don.[8]Seven or eight days are sufficient for this operation, the expense of which amounts nearly to a quarter of the capital employed. Thus every year the crown and the merchants spend from 850,000 to 1,000,000 rubles at Doubofka. It is reckoned that 10,000 pairs of oxen, on an average, are employed on the road connecting the two rivers. The charge for heavy goods is from sixty to sixty-five kopeks the 100 kilogrammes. The vessels that ascend the Upper Don convey the goods above-named to the government of Voronege and the adjoining ones; besides which, some are freighted with the fruits and wines of the Don. Scarcely any traffic ascends the lower part of the river.

The coasting trade of Rostof is, therefore, brisk, and particularly so since the establishment of the quarantine at Kertch. There were exported from the town, in 1840, for Russian ports, more than 3,500,000 rubles' worth of domestic goods of various kinds, and about 700,000 rubles' worth of provisions, chiefly intended for the armies. Flax-seed and common wool have also become, within the last three years, rather important articles of export to foreign countries. The population of Rostof is about 8000.

Azov, on the other side of the Don, a little below Rostof, is now only a large village. Its long celebrated fortress has been abandoned, and is falling into ruin. It is said to occupy the site of the ancient Tana, built by the Greeks of the Bosphorus.

The fort of Saint Dimitri, built by Peter the Great, between Rostof and Nakhitchevane, has had the same fate as Azov. It was formerly destined to protect the country against the incursions of the Turks, who were then masters of the opposite bank. The post-road traverses its whole length, and then continues all the way to Nakhitchevane, along a raised causeway, and overlooks the whole basin of the river. Nothing can be more varied than the wide landscapes through which one travels along this extended ridge. Behind lies Rostof, with its harbour full of vessels, and its houses rising in terrace rows, one above the other, its Greek churches, and its hanging gardens. On the right is the calm and limpid mirror of the river, spreading out into a broad basin, with banks shaded with handsome poplars. Fishing-boats, rafts, and barges diversify its surface, and give the most picturesque appearance to this part of the landscape. Then in front, Nakhitchevane, the elegant Armenian town, towers before you, the glazed windows of its great bazaars glittering in the sun. Enter the town, and you are surprised by a vision of the East, as you behold the capricious architecture of the buildings, and the handsome Asiatic figures that pass before you.

Impelled by our recollections of Constantinople, we visited everyquarter of the town without delay. At the sight of the veiled women, trailing their yellow slippers along the ground with inimitablenonchalance, the Oriental costumes, the long white beards, the merchants sitting on their heels before their shops, and the bazaars filled with the productions of Asia, we fancied ourselves really transported to one of the trading quarters of Stamboul; the illusion was complete. The shops abound with articles, many of which appeared to us very curious. The Armenians are excellent workers in silver. We were shown some remarkably beautiful saddles, intended for Caucasian chiefs. One of them covered with blue velvet, adorned with black enamelled silver plates, and with stirrups of massive silver, and a brilliantly adorned bridle, had been ordered for a young Circassian princess. Here, as in Constantinople, each description of goods has its separate bazaar, and the shops are kept by men only.

This Armenian town, seated on the banks of the Don, in the heart of a country occupied by the Cossacks, is still one of those singularities which are only to be met with in Russia. One cannot help asking what can have been the cause why these children of the East have transplanted themselves into a region, where nothing is in harmony with their manner of being; where the language, habits, and wants of the inhabitants are diametrically opposite to their own, and where nature herself reminds them, by stern tokens, that their presence there is but an accident. It is true that the Armenians are essentially cosmopolitan, and accommodate themselves to all climates and governments, when their pecuniary interests require it. Industrious, intelligent, and frugal, they thrive everywhere, and commerce springs up with their presence, in every place where they settle. Thus it was that Nakhitchevane, the town of trafficpar excellence, to which purchasers resort from the distance of twenty-five leagues all round it, arose amidst the wilderness of the Don. It was only Armenians who could have effected such a prodigy, and found the means of prosperity in a retail trade. But nothing has escaped their keen sagacity; every source of profit is largely employed by them. They do not confine themselves to the local trade; on the contrary, there is not a fair in all Southern Russia that is not attended by dealers from Nakhitchevane. The supply of dress and arms to the inhabitants of the Caucasus, still forms one of the principal branches of commerce for these Armenians. They maintain a pretty close correspondence with the mountaineers, and are even accused of serving them as spies. As to their social habits, the Armenians are in Nakhitchevane what they are everywhere else; they may change their country and their garb, but their manners and their usages never undergo any alteration. Their race is like a tree whose trunk is almost destroyed, but which throws up at every point new shoots, invariable in their nature, and differing from each other only in some outward particulars.

The colony of Nakhitchevane dates from the year 1780, when Catherine II. had the greater part of the Armenians of the Crimea transported to the banks of the Don. The colonists are dividedinto agriculturists and shopkeepers. The former inhabit five villages, containing a population of 4600; the others reside exclusively in the town, which is the chief place of their establishment, and contains about 6000 souls. These Armenians enjoy the same privileges as the Greeks of Marioupol, already mentioned. They are under the control of functionaries chosen by themselves, and it happens very rarely that they are obliged to have recourse to the Russian tribunals.

The following was the decision adopted by the Council of the Empire, in 1841, relatively to the Armenians of New Russia. "The descendants of the Armenians settled at the invitation of the government, in the towns of Karasson Bazar, Starikrim in the Crimea, Nakhitchevane, and Gregorioupol, in the government of Kherson, will continue to pay, not the poll-tax, but the land-tax, and that on houses, according to the privileges granted to their fathers by an ukase of October 28, 1799; whilst those who have settled since that time, as well as all Armenians generally, shall be liable to the poll-tax, in pursuance of an ukase of May 21, 1836; in addition to which they shall pay from January 1, 1841; viz., townspeople and artisans, seven rubles per house, and agriculturists seventeen and a half kopeks per deciatine of land."


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