Horned cattle1,013,106Sheep2,310,445Goats53,221Camels1,692Horses326,788Total3,705,252
In that year the sheep produced 5,698,000 kilogrammes of wool, which was exported. Of the above number of sheep, only 308,652 are merinos. The wool of the latter fetched 156 rubles the 100 kilogrammes, whilst that of the native sheep did not sell for more than 58 to 62. But the merinos require too much care, and I much doubt that they will ever be reared on a large scale by the Cossacks. Besides, as we have already seen, the breeding of merinos is far from being as profitable at this day as it was formerly.
Agriculture, properly so called, must naturally be in a depressed condition in a country of which the tenth part of the population is continually either in active service, or in readiness to be called out. No more corn is cultivated than is sufficient for the subsistence of the inhabitants. The crop of 1839 was 6,953,814 hectolitres, a quantity considerably too small for seed, and for the consumption of a nation that annually consumes 6.18 hectolitres per head. The Cossacks were, therefore, obliged to draw on the reserved stores and on the neighbouring governments. In general, whatever M. Schnitzler may say to the contrary, their agriculture produces no more than is barely necessary; notwithstanding the advantages of a great navigable river, and its position on the Sea of Azov, the Don country has not yet been able to export any corn.
The cultivation of the vine is the only one that has prospered in any remarkable degree among the Cossacks; it prevails in the southern regions on the banks of the Don and of the Axai. They now reckon 4514 vineyards, yielding annually, on an average, from 20,000 to 25,000 hectolitres of wine, and 300 to 400 of brandy. In 1841, the production amounted to nearly 62,500; and when I was in Novo Tcherkask, grapes were selling there for three rubles the 100 kilogrammes. Sparkling wines are made, of which the Don country now exports more than a million of bottles yearly.The best wine of a certain Abrahamof is usually charged for at the rate of six rubles in the inns of Novo Tcherkask. The reader will, no doubt, be surprised to hear of such quantities of sparkling wines; but Russia is unquestionably the country in which that sort of beverage is most esteemed; and as the petty nobles and theemployéscannot afford to drink champagne, they have recourse to the Cossack vintage. The latter is consumed in incredible quantity, principally in the fairs, where no bargain can be concluded without a case of Don wine. It is very agreeable, and is much liked, even by foreigners. It is to Frenchmen the Cossacks owe this branch of industry.
Fishing also forms an important source of income for the Cossacks. It is carried on chiefly at the mouths of the Don. In 1838, it produced 304,000 kilogrammes of sturgeons yielding caviare, and more than 20,000,000 of fish of different kinds, which they salt and send to the neighbouring governments. Bees must also be enumerated among the sources of wealth in the country. The Mious district, which possesses nearly 31,000 hives, produced in 1839, 124,336 kilogrammes of honey, and 21,056 kilogrammes of wax.
From these hints it will be seen how rich is the country of the Cossacks, and how high a degree of prosperity it might reach under an enlightened and liberal administration. Manufacturing industry is the only one that, as yet, has made no progress in it. It is said not to possess a single manufactory, which is natural enough, considering the military organisation of the nation. There is an extreme want of workmen; the few found in the country, who come from the neighbouring governments, demand very high pay, as much as two rubles and a half a day, which is exorbitant in Russia. As for mineral wealth, the Don country possesses abundance of coal and anthracite, the latter of which is worked in the neighbourhood of Novo Tcherkask.
Among the tribes incorporated with the Don Cossacks, the Kalmucks demand especial mention. In the reign of the Emperor Paul, an ukase was issued, commanding a census to be taken of all the nomade tribes subject to Russia. This certain presage of some tax or other, spread consternation among the Kalmucks; their hordes began to break up, and great numbers of them took refuge with the Cossacks. But the fatal ukase soon pursued them to their new asylum, whereupon some returned to the steppes of the Caspian, whilst the rest being retained by the Cossacks, were put under the same military and civil system of administration as the inhabitants of the Don. These Kalmucks now form a population of about 15,000, and encamp on both banks of the Manitch, about 100 miles from the confluence with the Don. In order to give some notion of the manners and customs of this people, I will here copy some fragments from an account of a scientific journey I made along the Manitch, to determine the difference of level between the Black Sea and the Caspian.
It was towards the end of May, 1841, I set out from Novo Tcherkask, to explore the Manitch, a paltry stream, but which, nevertheless, had for a long while the honour of marking the boundary between Europe and Asia. I was accompanied by my friend, Baron Kloch, a German by birth, and a most agreeable man, lately arrived for the first time in Russia. His intelligent conversation was a great source of enjoyment to me. Six hours' travel brought us to Axai, a charming stanitza, built like an amphitheatre on the right bank of the Don. It is the great trading place of the Cossacks, and but for the vicinity of Rostof, a Russian, and of course a privileged town, it would have been made the capital of the Don country, and the general entrepôt of all the traffic from the north of the empire. The project was even entertained at first, but it was defeated partly by intrigue, and partly I believe by the obstinacy of Count Platof. Axai is, nevertheless, the handsomest stanitza in the country. Its balconied houses, painted in different colours, its port, the activity prevailing in it, its lively and bustling population, all excite the traveller's attention and curiosity. When I arrived in the town the inundations of the Don were at their height, and as far as the eye could reach the waters covered the low plain that stretches along its left bank. We were soon furnished with a boat having on board a pilot and four excellent rowers, and at nine in the evening, we embarked to cross the river. The evening was perfectly calm and beautiful; and I shall never forget the lodkas with bellied sails, gliding down with the current, the melancholy songs of the Russian boatmen, the sounds from Axai gradually dying away in the distance, and our boat skimming across the smooth surface of the water, which broke in thousands of sparks from the oars. At midnight we landed before Makinskaia, where we passed the remainder of the night on heaps of hay, in the court-yard of a paltry inn.
At daybreak next morning, the saddle horses were ready, and we started for Manitchkaia on the confluence of the Manitch with the Don. After some hours' riding we were brought to a halt by the overflow of the latter river; and for want of a better road to reach the stanitza, we were obliged to betake ourselves to wading through the temporary lake. This was the most unpleasant part of our journey. For a distance of more than four leagues our horses plodded on through thick mud with the water up to their bellies; and sometimes they were forced to swim. Besides this, we were tormented by clouds of gnats. At last our situation became quite intolerable; for in the very middle of this passage we were assailed by a violent hurricane, the rain came down in torrents; our baggage waggon broke down, and we very nearly lost all its contents. The whole day was consumed in making the six leagues to Manitchkaia. Our Kalmucks only succeeded in extricating the waggon from the hole in which it was stuck fast, by yoking one of their horses to it by the tail. This is an infallible means as we often found byexperience; nothing can resist the violent efforts of the unfortunate horse when he finds himself in that predicament.
Leaving Manitchkaia, we skirted along the basin of the Manitch. The first dwellings we descried were some miserable Tatar cabins, surrounded with brambles and thistles. We found in them an old Tatar captain, a relic of the French campaign. He amused us a good deal by his pompous encomiums on the valour and tall stature of the Prussians. A Frenchman, said he, does not fear ten Russians, but a Prussian would settle at least ten Frenchmen.
For three days our journey was without interest. No traces of buildings were to be seen; at intervals there appeared in the middle of the steppes, a Kalmuck tent, the inhabitants of which kept a large herd of horses; then here and there some strayed camels, and these were the only objects that broke the dreary monotony of the wilderness. But on the fourth day, we reached the vicinity of the great Khouroul of the Kalmucks, the residence of their high priest. One of our Cossacks was sent forward to announce our visit, and an hour after his departure two priests came galloping up to us. After complimenting us in the name of the grand Lama, they presented us with brandy distilled from mare's milk, in token of welcome, and fell in to line with our party. Some minutes afterwards we descried the white tents of the Khouroul. Our party was every moment swelled by fresh reinforcements, and we had soon fifty horsemen caracoling by our sides. Having reached the centre of the Khouroul, we alighted, and then walking between two lines of priests dressed in garments of the most glaring colours, we were conducted to the high priest's tent. This venerable representative of the great Dalai Lama, was an old man upwards of seventy, entirely bald, and with features of a much less Kalmuck cast than his countrymen. He was wrapped in a wide tunic of yellow brocade, lined with cherry red silk, and his fingers were busy with the beads of his chaplet. After many salutations on both sides we sat down on a sofa, and then, according to the invariable Kalmuck usage, we were helped to brandy and koumis, a beverage at which my friend Kloch made very queer faces. Next, I presented the high priest with two pounds of bad tobacco, purchased at Novo Tcherkask, which I passed off as genuine Latakieh. He was so delighted with my present that he did honour to it on the spot, with every mark of extreme satisfaction. This high priest will have the honour to be burned after his death, and his ashes, formed into a paste with a certain ingredient, will be worked into a little statue, which will adorn the temple to be erected to his memory. His successor is already nominated; he looks like a stupid fanatic, puffed up with the importance of his future dignity; we afterwards saw him acquit himself of his religious duties, with a conscientiousness quite rare among the Cossack Kalmucks. All the priests of this khouroul, appeared to us incomparably less devout than those of the Volga and the Caspian. They have very little reverence for their spiritual chief; they seem fully aware of theabsurdities of their religious notions and ceremonies, and if they set any value by their functions, it is because they enable them to lead a life of indolence and sensuality, and exempt them from military service. The laity seems to be very indifferent as to religious matters. The women alone seem attached to their ancient principles; one of them burst into a fury because her husband allowed us to see and touch the leaves of her prayer-book. It is to their intercourse with the Cossacks that we must attribute the lapse of these Kalmucks from the strictness of the primitive rule, which has been preserved almost unimpaired among the Kalmucks of the Caspian.
After leaving the high priest's tent we attended the religious ceremonies, in which there was nothing very striking. A sheep was afterwards killed in honour of our visit, and was served up, cut into small pieces, in a huge cast-iron pan. The ragout was black and detestable, but hunger made it seem delicious.
The women of the vicinity arrived in the evening, and began to sing in chorus, parading round the khouroul. Their strains were profoundly melancholy; nothing like them had ever yet struck my ears. Their voices were so sonorous and vibrating, that the sound was like that of brazen instruments; and heard in that vast solemn wilderness, it produced the most singular impression. After walking half-a-dozen times round the khouroul the singers halted, and forming line with their faces towards the temple, they stretched out their arms and prostrated themselves repeatedly. The women having ended, next came the mandjis or musicians, who made the air resound with the braying of their trumpets at the moment when the sun was descending below the horizon.
Next day we left the khouroul to return to the banks of the Manitch; I then continued my levelling along the course of that stream up to the point, where eighteen months before, on my way back from the Caspian, I had been stopped by want of water and pasture. In our return journey we passed through numerous Kalmuck camps on the right bank of the Manitch, and were everywhere received with the liveliest delight. As all these nomades are exclusively engaged in rearing cattle, our curiosity was greatly excited by the prodigious herds of camels, horses, and oxen that covered the plain.
Before we reached the Don we spent the last two nights in the lonely steppe, under the open sky. But six hours afterwards we were in Taganrok, in the drawing-room of the amiable English consul, surrounded by all the comforts of civilised life.
[13]We are quite convinced that the Comans mentioned by the Byzantine writers, are identical with the Kaptschaks of the Oriental historians. Rubruck's narrative supplies proof of this; moreover both peoples spoke Turkish. But in spite of all Klaproth's assertions, we do not believe that the Polovtzis of the Slavic chroniclers were Comans; for it seems to us far more rational to look for the descendants of the Comans among the Mussulman inhabitants of the south of the empire, who, as we learn from historic records, were already established in the same regions under the name of Kaptschak, at the arrival of Genghis Khan's Mongols.
[13]We are quite convinced that the Comans mentioned by the Byzantine writers, are identical with the Kaptschaks of the Oriental historians. Rubruck's narrative supplies proof of this; moreover both peoples spoke Turkish. But in spite of all Klaproth's assertions, we do not believe that the Polovtzis of the Slavic chroniclers were Comans; for it seems to us far more rational to look for the descendants of the Comans among the Mussulman inhabitants of the south of the empire, who, as we learn from historic records, were already established in the same regions under the name of Kaptschak, at the arrival of Genghis Khan's Mongols.
[14]Note that in our day the Cossack population though augmented during a succession of ages, by numerous emigrations, does not exceed 600,000 souls; it must, therefore, in all probability, have been much less considerable in the fifteenth century, a supposition which further confirms our opinion that the Cossacks never formed a distinct nation.
[14]Note that in our day the Cossack population though augmented during a succession of ages, by numerous emigrations, does not exceed 600,000 souls; it must, therefore, in all probability, have been much less considerable in the fifteenth century, a supposition which further confirms our opinion that the Cossacks never formed a distinct nation.
[15]According to Du Plan de Carpin, the Circassians do not appear to have escaped unscathed from the attacks of the Mongols; but there seems no reason to think that they were really subjugated.
[15]According to Du Plan de Carpin, the Circassians do not appear to have escaped unscathed from the attacks of the Mongols; but there seems no reason to think that they were really subjugated.
[16]Since we left Russia it has been proposed to equip the Cossack regiments at the cost of the government. The country would, of course, in that case be taxed, and would cease to differ in any respect from the other provinces.
[16]Since we left Russia it has been proposed to equip the Cossack regiments at the cost of the government. The country would, of course, in that case be taxed, and would cease to differ in any respect from the other provinces.
JOURNEY FROM NOVO TCHERKASK ALONG THE DON—ANOTHER KNAVISH POSTMASTER—MUSCOVITE MERCHANTS—COSSACK STANITZAS.
JOURNEY FROM NOVO TCHERKASK ALONG THE DON—ANOTHER KNAVISH POSTMASTER—MUSCOVITE MERCHANTS—COSSACK STANITZAS.
Beyond Novo Tcherkask the road to Astrakhan runs northward along the right bank of the Don; the country still continuing the same naked and monotonous appearance; it is only in the neighbourhood of the river that its desolation is here and there relieved by a few clumps of trees in the ravines.
It is certainly not without reason that the Russians boast of the rapid travelling in their country; its posts would be unrivalled in Europe were it not for the vexations practised by theemployésat the stations. On the whole we had hitherto had no great reason to complain; the official papers with which we were furnished smoothed many difficulties; but at the first station beyond Novo Tcherkask we endured the common fate of all who travel without titular grade or decoration, and were mercilessly fleeced. We arrived towards evening followed by another carriage of which we were but a few minutes in advance. A caleche without horses seemed a bad omen to us as we entered the court-yard; and the first answer given to our Cossack was, that we could not have horses until the next morning. The prospect of passing the night in a miserable hovel was disagreeable enough; but what remedy had we with a postmaster, who opening all his stables, showed that he had no horses? After waiting a full half hour to no purpose our interpreter explored the vicinity of the station, and on his return, some rubles bestowed on the head of the establishment procured us all the horses we wanted. We put to and started immediately, leaving our companions behind us; but they overtook us an hour afterwards, having done like ourselves; and so it appeared at last, that there were horses enough for us all.
The travellers who followed us were young Muscovite merchants returning from some fair in the Caucasus. They amused themselves all night with letting off rockets and all kinds of fireworks, the sudden flash of which, lighting up the deep darkness of the steppes, produced a most striking effect.
We passed on the following day through several stanitzas. These Cossack hamlets have a far more pleasing appearance than the Russian villages. The houses of which they consist are small, almost all of them built of painted wood, with green window-shutters. They have only a ground-floor, surrounded by a miniature gallery, and look as if they were merely intended for pretty toys. The interiors are extremely neat, and show an appreciation of domestic comfort of which the Russians betray no trace. You find in them table-linen, delf plates, forks, and all the most necessary utensils. The Cossacks have usually two dwellings adjoining each other. One of these, that which we have been speaking of, is occupied insummer, and almost always contains one handsome apartment, adorned with stained paper, images, flowers, and groups of arms; it is the room used on grand occasions, and for the accommodation of strangers. The other dwelling is built of earth, and resembles thekatesof the Muscovite peasants; it contains but one room, in which the whole family huddle themselves together in winter for the more warmth.
In general, only women and children are to be seen in the stanitzas. The whole male population is under arms, with the exception of some veterans who have purchased, by forty years' service, the right of returning home to die. All the burden of labour falls on the women; it is they who must repair the houses, whitewash them, dress the furs, take care of the children, and tend the cattle. It is really inconceivable how they can accomplish so many laborious tasks.
At Piatisbanskaia, a charming stanitza, shaded by handsome trees, and rising in an amphitheatre on the banks of the Don, we turned off from the post-road, and after crossing the river, entered on a sea of sand, through which we worked our way with immense difficulty. The peasants' horses are less used than those of the post to such toilsome marches, and it was really piteous to see their panting distress. The reflected glare of the sun, and the absence of any breath of wind, made this day's journey one of the most oppressive we encountered. It took us four hours to get over nine versts (less than six English miles). Though I wore a thick veil and blue spectacles, my eyelids were so swollen I could scarcely open them. Towards noon we at last reached a poor lonely village, where we rested until nightfall.
The country from Piatisbanskaia is dreary, and void of vegetation. The stanitzas are few and far between, the land lies waste, and the sand-hills and hot winds betoken the approach to the deserts of the Caspian. Nothing is more saddening to the imagination, than the lifeless aspect and uniform hues of these endless plains. One is surprised to meet in them, from time to time, some miserable Cossack villages, and cannot tell how the inhabitants can exist amidst such desolation. This sad sterility is the work of men, rather than of nature. The present system of government of the Don Cossacks is an insuperable bar to agricultural improvement; and so long as it exists, the land must remain uncultivated.
But, as we have already remarked, all is contrast in Russia. Extremes of all kinds meet there without any transition: from a desert you pass into a populous town, from a cabin to a palace, from a Tatar mosque into an ancient Christian cathedral, from an arid plain into the cheerful German colonies. Surprises follow one upon the other without end, and give a peculiar zest to travelling, scarcely to be experienced in any other part of Europe.
It is particularly in approaching Sarepta that one feels the force of these reflections: the novel impressions that there await thetraveller who arrives benumbed in soul from the dreary wilderness, come upon him with the bewildering effect of a marvellous dream. Even were Sarepta whisked away, and set down in the middle of Switzerland, one could not fail to be delighted with so charming a place; but to feel all its real excellence, one should come to it weary and worn as we were, one should have known what it was to long for a little shade and water, as for manna from the skies, and have plodded on for many days through a country like that we have described, under the unmitigating rays of a roasting sun.
Picture to yourself a pretty little German town, with its high gabled houses, its fruit trees, fountains, and promenades, its scrupulous neatness, and its comfortable and happy people, and you will have an idea of Sarepta: industry, the fine arts, morality, sociability, commerce, are all combined in that favoured spot.
The Moravian colony, shut in within a bend of the Volga, in the midst of the Kalmuck hordes, eloquently demonstrates what miracles decision and perseverance can effect. It is the first shoot planted by Europe in that remote region, amidst those pastoral tribes so jealous of their independence; and the changes wrought by the Moravian brethren on the rude soil they have fertilised, and on the still ruder character of the inhabitants, give striking evidence of the benefits of our civilisation.
Every thing breathes of peace and contentment in this little town, on which rests the blessing of God. It is the only place I know in Russia in which the eye is never saddened by the sight of miserable penury. No bitter thought mingles there with the interesting observations gleaned by curiosity. Every house is a workshop, every individual a workman. During the day every one is busy; but in the evening the thriving and cheerful population throng the walks and the square, and give a most pleasing air of animation to the town.
Like most Germans, the Moravian brethren are passionately fond of music. The piano, heard at evening in almost every house, reminds them of their fatherland, and consoles them for the vicinity of the Kalmucks.
We visited the establishments of the Moravian sisters, where, by a fortunate chance, we met a German lady who spoke French very well. The life of the sisters is tranquil, humble, and accordant with the purest principles of morality and religion. They are forty in number, and appear happy, as much so at least as it is possible to be in a perfectly monastic state of existence. Consummate order, commodious apartments, and a handsome garden, make the current of their lives flow with unruffled smoothness, as far as outward things are concerned. Music, too, is a great resource for them. We observed in the prayer-room three pianos, with which they accompany the hymns they sing in chorus. They execute very pretty work in pearls and tapestry, which they sell for the benefit of the community. There would be nothing very extraordinary in thesedetails, if any other country were in question; we are afraid they will even be thought too commonplace; but if the reader will only reflect for a moment on the position of this oasis of civilisation on the far verge of Europe, in the midst of the Kalmucks and on the confines of the country of the Khirghis, he will think our enthusiasm very natural and excusable.
The only thing that rather offended our eyes was the would-be finery of the women's dress. Would any one imagine that in this remote little corner of the earth they should be ridiculous enough to ape French fashions and wear bonnets with flowers? How preferable are the simple demure costume of the Mennonite women and their little Alsacian caps, to the mingled elegance and shabbiness of the Moravian sisters. Their dress is quite out of character, and makes them look like street ballad-singers.
To give an idea of it, here follows an exact description of the costume of a fashionably-dressed young lady of Sarepta (our host's daughter.):—A flowered muslin gown, short and narrow; a black apron; a large Madras handkerchief on the neck; a patch-work ridicule carried in the hand; thick-soled shoes, bare arms, and a pink bonnet with flowers. To complete the portrait, we must add a very pretty face, and plump, well-rounded arms. The women here are much handsomer than in any other part of Russia; many of them are remarkable specimens of the North German style of beauty.
On the evening of our arrival we were advised to attend the funeral music performed as a last honour to one of the principal inhabitants of Sarepta. The body was laid out in a mortuary chapel, with the family and numerous friends around it, and was not to be removed to the cemetery until the fourth day; an excellent custom, which may prevent horrible accidents.
It would be difficult to imagine any thing more melancholy than the harmony produced by the voices and the brass instruments that alternately answered each other, and seemed the echoes of the saddest and most profound emotions of the heart. A great number of persons were present, and all the solemnity of the occasion did not hinder those worthy Germans from gathering round us with the liveliest curiosity, and putting a thousand questions to us about the purport of our travels.
The association of the Moravian brethren dates from the celebrated John Huss, who was burnt at Constance, in 1419. Their history is but a long series of persecutions. The issue of the Thirty Years' War, so disastrous for Frederick, the elector palatine, and king of Bohemia, was particularly fatal to them. At that period most of the Protestants of Bohemia fled their country, and spread themselves through Saxony, Brandenburg, Poland, and Hungary. The vengeance of the Emperor Frederick II. pursued them without ceasing, and great numbers of them perished in want and wretchedness. In 1722, Christian David, a carpenter, and some others of the proscribed, obtained permission from the Count of Zinzendorf,in Lusace, to settle on his lands. They reached their place of refuge in secret, with their wives and children, and David struck his axe into a tree, exclaiming: "Here shall the bird find a dwelling, and the swallow a nest." His hopes were not disappointed. The new establishment assumed the name ofHerrenhut(The Lord's Keeping), and its members were soon known in Germany only by that appellation. Such was the beginning of the new evangelical society of the Brethren of the Unity of the Confession of Augsburg. Herrenhut, the central establishment, throve rapidly, and became known all over Europe for its industry and its manufactures; and by and by, when the proselytising spirit had possessed the brethren, they extended their relations over all parts of the world.
Shortly after the Empress Catherine II. had made known to Europe that Russia was open to foreigners, and that she would bestow lands the immigrants, a deputation from Herrenhut to St. Petersburg decided on the formation of a Moravian colony in the government of Astrakhan. Five of the brethren visited the banks of the Volga in 1769, and on the 3rd of September of the same year, the colony was settled at the confluence of the Sarpa with the Volga, and consisted at that time of thirty persons of both sexes. Its name was borrowed from the Bible, and an olive and a wheatsheaf were chosen for its arms.
It was only by dint of courage and perseverance that these first colonists succeeded in their enterprise, surrounded as they were on all sides by the savage hordes of the Kalmucks, having no knowledge of the language of the country, and situated at more than 120 versts from any Russian town. But after the first difficulties were surmounted, their prosperity was rapid. As we have already said, the Moravian brethren form a vast society, spread throughout all parts of the world for the propagation of the Gospel; but, moreover, for the better fulfilment of their mission they are all required by the rules of their order to know some trade, so as to be able to support themselves by the work of their own hands. Hence Sarepta soon became a seat of manufactures of all sorts, and an industrial school for the surrounding country, and Catherine's intentions were realised.
As for the brethren themselves, the establishment of an industrial town in a land so remote and so destitute of resources and markets, was for them but a secondary object. Their chief aim was the conversion of the Kalmucks, to accomplish which they thought rightly that it was indispensable to have a permanent settlement among those people. All their proselytising efforts, however, remained fruitless; the Kalmucks were deaf to their instruction. It was not till 1820 that they succeeded in converting a few families, and inducing them to receive baptism. But now the Russian clergy interposed, and insisted on the converts being baptised according to the Greek rite, and finally, all the Moravian missions were suppressed. Ever since then Sarepta has been a purely manufacturing town.
The colony of Sarepta endured great calamities in the beginning.In 1771, the period of the famous emigration of the Kalmucks, the brethren had a narrow escape of being carried into captivity, and were saved only by the mildness of the winter, which prevented their enemies from crossing the Volga and joining the great horde. The Cossack Pougatchef ravaged the whole country in 1773, and the colonists, 200 in number, including women, were obliged to retreat to Astrakhan. The defeat of the rebel shortly afterwards enabled them to return home. Their town had been destroyed, but they were not disheartened, and it soon rose again from its ruins. A whole street was burned down in Sarepta in 1812, and in the same year they lost their warehouses in Moscow, containing an immense stock of goods, in the great conflagration. But the most terrible disaster was that of 1823, when two-thirds of the colony and the largest establishments were reduced to ashes; the loss was estimated at upwards of 40,000l.The Emperor Alexander and the Moravian Association afforded the poor colonists generous aid, but they could never restore the old prosperity of Sarepta.
All these heavy blows falling successively on the unfortunate community, did not, however, prevent the development of its industry. Great activity prevailed in its very various manufactories down to the beginning of the present century, and their productions continued to be in request in all parts of Russia. Some of the brethren established in the great towns of the empire were the active and honest correspondents of the Volga colonists. The silks and cottons of Sarepta were so successful that the weavers of that town formed establishments at their own cost among the German colonies of the government of Saratof.[17]But all these elements of wealth were annihilated by the new customs' regulations; most of the manufactories were closed; as for the rest, with one or two exceptions, being obliged to confine themselves to the production of a small number of articles, they can only subsist by dint of great economy and skill. The difficulty, too, of procuring workmen makes labour extremely dear in Sarepta; and besides this the colonists instead of importing the raw materials direct from the foreigner, are obliged to purchase them in the markets of St. Petersburg and Moscow. The decrease in the waters of the Sarpa has also been disastrous to the trade of Sarepta. The brethren had set up a great number of saw and other mills on the banks, and these brought them large profits; but the want of water caused them all to be abandoned in 1800. In noticing this continual struggle of man against nature and events, we cannot but pay the tribute of our admiration to those intrepid colonists, who, on the furthest verge of Europe, in the arid steppes of the Volga, have never suffered themselves to be overcome by their mischances, but have always found fresh resources in their own energy and perseverance.
The manufacture of mustard is at present the most importantbranch of business in Sarepta, producing nearly 16,000 kilogrammes yearly, besides 4800 kilogrammes of oil. This trade is not unimportant to the neighbouring villages, since it uses upon an average every year 160,000 kilogrammes of mustard seed, for which the manufacturer pays the peasant at the rate of 1.60 rubles the poud or thirty-three pounds.
The other trades that are still carried on with some degree of success are the manufactures of silk and cotton tissues, stockings and caps, tobacco and tanned leather, but these are all upon a greatly reduced scale and at a greatly diminished rate of profit. There is also a very clever optician in Sarepta, and there are several confectioners who travel to Moscow. The colony possesses also warehouses of manufactured goods, and offers almost all the resources and conveniences of a good European town.
Agriculture can only be a secondary matter in the colony; of the 17,000 deciatines of land possessed by it 2000 are quite unfit for cultivation, 10,000 are salt, and only 4000 are really good. There is, however, a little village named Schönbrunn, not far from the town, in which there are some families engaged in agriculture and cattle rearing. Merino sheep have not done well with them hitherto. They had a large stock some years ago, but it dwindled away either from mismanagement, or from the severity of the climate, and at present does not exceed 1000 head.
The brethren possess also numerous gardens along the Sarpa, irrigated by water wheels, and producing all sorts of fruits and plants, but chiefly tobacco, and latterly indigo, which will no doubt become of great importance to the colony.
The little town of Sarepta has not changed much within the last eighty years: its buildings still present the same appearance as they did some years after the foundation of the colony; but the great industrial movements of former times have deserted it, and its streets are become lonely and silent. The fountain still flows on the same spot, and is still shaded by the same trees; but the blackened walls of the two finest manufactories, burnt down in the terrible fire of 1823, and which the colonists have never been able to rebuild, make a singularly painful impression on the beholder, and tell too plainly that in spite of their courage and industry, events have been too strong for the Moravians. All travellers who visit Sarepta, and have an opportunity of appreciating the worth of its inhabitants, will certainly desire from their hearts a return of prosperity to this interesting colony: unhappily it is not probable that these wishes will be very speedily realised.
The Moravian community has augmented but little since 1769; for in 1837 it comprised but 380 souls, viz., 160 men and 220 women; and even of these, only one half were natives of Sarepta, the remainder being immigrants from abroad. Many causes combine to keep down the population. In the first place, no colonist is allowed to marry, until he can prove the sufficiency of his means;both men and women, therefore, marry late in life, and large families are extremely rare. Again, no brother can marry, if his doing so would cause any detriment to another; and all those who, by their misconduct, in any degree disturb the order and tranquillity of the colony, are banished and put out of the association. A sort of passport is given them for the government of Saratof, and then they are at liberty either to enrol themselves as government colonists, or to enjoy their privileges as foreigners. Lastly, after the great fire of 1823, many of the brethren, discouraged by the loss of their all, left Sarepta, and went to reside elsewhere. All these reasons, sufficiently account for the stationary condition of the population. Of strangers to the association, there are in Sarepta, thirty families of work people from the German colonies of Saratof, forty Russians, and twenty Tatars; some fifty Kalmuck kibitkas (tents) supply labourers for the gardens and for other works.
There are now fifty-six stone and 136 wooden houses in Sarepta, and outside it, one stone and forty-nine wooden. Its public buildings, are a church, with an organ and a belfry, and three large workhouses for bachelors, widows, and girls. These serve at the same time as asylums for orphans, and for all persons who have no families. There are also schools for the young of both sexes, in which the course of instruction is rather extensive, and includes the German, Russian, and French languages, history, geography, and elementary mathematics.
At first, Sarepta was surrounded with ditches and ramparts, supplied with artillery and defended by a detachment of Cossacks; but these military displays have long disappeared, and the worthy Moravians are left alone to their own peaceful pursuits. In describing this interesting colony, we must not forget its numerous and delicious fountains. Every street, every house has its own, the water being conveyed by wooden pipes underground into a common reservoir, whence it is distributed to all parts. Nor will it be without a keen feeling of satisfaction that the weary traveller will stop at the Sarepta hotel, where he will find a good bed and a good table, excellent wine, and all the comforts he can desire.
The Moravian brethren of Sarepta justly enjoy much more extensive privileges than all the other colonists of Russia: they pay to the crown but a slight tax per deciatine of land; and they have the right of trading in all parts of the empire and to foreign parts, as first guild merchants without paying any dues. They have their own perfectly separate administration, and all litigated affairs among them are settled by themselves, without the interference of any Russian tribunal: if any disputes arise between them and their neighbours, they have recourse to the general committee of the German colonies of Saratof, or in matters of weight, to the ministry in St. Petersburg, through one of their brethren, who resides there as their agent. In cases of murder alone, they deliver over the criminal to the Russian authorities. Banishment is usually thesentence pronounced for other offences by the tribunal of the association, which consists of a mayor and two assistants, elected by the community, and who act also as administrators of the colony, and have under their orders an officer, who is responsible for all things pertaining to the town and country police. The public revenue is 20,000 rubles, produced by the rent of the fisheries and by special taxes; this money is spent in keeping up the public buildings, the schools, workhouses, &c.
The habits of these colonists, their amount of education, and their religious principles, make a marked distinction between them and all the other Germans in Russia. We have seen few sectarians whose religious views are characterised by so much sound sense. While discharging their duties with the most scrupulous exactness, they avail themselves of the good things granted them by Providence, live in a liberal and commodious manner, and surround themselves with all that can render life easy and agreeable. What struck us most of all, was to find invariably in the mere workman as well as in the wealthy manufacturer, a well-bred, well-informed man, of elegant manners and appearance, and engaging conversation. We spent but a few days in the colony, but our knowledge of the German language, enabled us quickly to acquire the friendship of the principal inhabitants; and when we left the town, our carriage was surrounded by a great number of those worthy people who came to bid us a last farewell, and to wish us a pleasant journey through the wild steppes of the Kalmucks.
[17]The German colonies of the government of Saratof consist of 102 villages, with a population of 81,271; in 1820 they produced 242,830 hectolitres of wheat, worth 555,263 paper rubles, and tobacco to the value of 260,485.
[17]The German colonies of the government of Saratof consist of 102 villages, with a population of 81,271; in 1820 they produced 242,830 hectolitres of wheat, worth 555,263 paper rubles, and tobacco to the value of 260,485.
FIRST KALMUCK ENCAMPMENTS—THE VOLGA—ASTRAKHAN—VISIT TO A KALMUCK PRINCE—MUSIC, DANCING, COSTUME, &c.—EQUESTRIAN FEATS—RELIGIOUS CEREMONY—POETRY.
FIRST KALMUCK ENCAMPMENTS—THE VOLGA—ASTRAKHAN—VISIT TO A KALMUCK PRINCE—MUSIC, DANCING, COSTUME, &c.—EQUESTRIAN FEATS—RELIGIOUS CEREMONY—POETRY.
At eight in the evening we left Sarepta, delighted in the highest degree with the good Moravian brethren, and the cordial hospitality they had shown us.
At some distance from the colony, a dull white line, scarcely distinguishable through the gloom, announced the presence of the Volga. We followed its course all night, catching a glimpse of it from time to time by the faint glimmering of the stars, and by numerous lights along its banks; these were fishermen's lanterns. There was an originality in the whole region that strongly impressed our imaginations. Those numerous lights, flitting every moment from place to place, were like the will o' the wisp that beguiles the benighted traveller; and then the Kalmuck encampments with their black masses that seemed to glide over the surface of the steppe; the darkness of the night; the speed with which our troïka bore usover the boundless plain; the shrill tinklings of the horse bells, and above all, the thought that we were in the land of the Kalmucks, wrought us up to a state of nervous excitement that made us see every thing in the hues of fancy.
At daybreak, our eyes were bent eagerly on the Volga, that gleamed in the colours of the morning sky. From the plateau where we were, we could see the whole country, and it may easily be conceived with what admiration we gazed on the calm majestic stream, and its multitude of islands clothed with alders and aspens. On the other side of the river, the steppes where the Khirgises and Kalmucks encamp, stretched away as far as the eye could reach, till bounded by a horizon as even as that of the ocean. It would have been difficult to conceive a more majestic spectacle, or one more in harmony with the ideas evoked by the Volga, to which its course of more than six hundred leagues assigns the foremost rank among the great rivers of Europe.
The post-road, which skirts the river as far as Astrakhan, is difficult, and often dangerous. Our driver was constantly turning his horses into the water, to prevent their sinking in a soil that undulates like the sea with every breath of wind. At intervals we encountered Cossack villages almost buried under sandy billows, and many cabins entirely abandoned. This encroachment of the sands, which increases every year in extent, will soon change the already dreary banks of the Volga into a real desert. No one can behold the sterility and desolation of these regions, without marvelling at the patience with which the Cossacks endure a visitation that from year to year drives them from their cabins, and compels them to build new ones. For a length of more than sixty versts, the traveller finds his route shut in between the bed of the river, and moving hills of sand, whose dead monotony has a most depressing effect on the spirits. It is still worse at night, for then he seems surrounded with perils. No wonder if fear possesses him when he thinks that a plundering nomade horde may be lying in ambush behind those defiles which the darkness renders still more menacing; the Cossack posts, however, which he meets from time to time along his road, contribute greatly to quiet his apprehensions.
These Cossacks were originally from the Don, and were sent by the government to defend the frontiers of the Volga against the incursions of the nomades. Settling with their families, they founded several villages, and afterwards peopled Samara, Saratof, and other towns. There remains of these colonists only a military population, whose duty is limited to watching the movements of the Khirgises from a distance, and protecting travellers. The soil affords them no means of practising agriculture, but they supply their wants by fishing.
Since our departure from Sarepta, we were much surprised to find on this little frequented route much better horses than are met with on the main post-roads; the stations too seemed larger, morecommodious and elegant, and every thing about them betokened attentive care on the part of the government.
As we approached Astrakhan, the sand-hills diminished insensibly in height, until they no longer confined the view. All this part of the steppe is bare of wood, and the salt sandy waste is only spotted here and there with pools of water and patches of wormwood. No sound is heard but the shrill cries of the petrels and wild geese that haunt the edges of the pools. Here and there only we encountered numerous herds of camels going to drink the clear water of the Volga, or wandering among the Kalmuck kibitkas scattered over the steppes.
At the last station but one, we were startled from our breakfast by the sound of military music, which for a moment threw the whole house into a state of revolution. We were ourselves very much puzzled to know what it meant, and jumping up from table we ran and saw—what? A steamer, no less, puffing and smoking, and lashing the astonished waters of the calm Volga into foam. Gay flags flaunted over its deck, which was crowded with passengers, and whence proceeded the sounds that had so surprised us. It passed before us, I will not say proudly, but very clumsily, by no means skimming along the water like a swallow.
When we saw the crowded state of the deck, a thought struck us that the matter in some degree concerned ourselves, for as the steamer was from Astrakhan, it was to be presumed that it carried several persons we had expected to see there. But our conjectures fell short of the reality, and our consternation was extreme, when the postmaster told us that the boat was conveying all the good society of Astrakhan on a visit to a Kalmuck prince, whose custom it was to give splendid entertainments at that season of the year. What made the thing still more vexatious, was, that many persons had already talked to us about the said prince, and strongly recommended us to go and see him.
There could not have been a more favourable opportunity for indulging our curiosity; but we were compelled to forego it for want of apodoroshni[18]entitling us to have horses on our way back. The Russians are such rigid sticklers for forms, that nothing but strong motives of interest can make them swerve from the letter of their instructions. Now it happened by a singular piece of ill-luck that our postmaster was an honest man after his fashion; that is to say, he would not depart a hair's breadth from his regulations to please any one. His stupid obstinacy was proof against all solicitations and bribes, and we gave up the tempting project of visiting the prince, whose palace we had passed a few hours before, about forty versts from the station.
Our best course under the circumstances would have been to hailthe steamer, and go on board of it, but we did not think of this until we had lost much time with the postmaster, and then it was too late to overtake the steamer, notwithstanding its slow rate of moving. When we afterwards related our mischances to the governor of Astrakhan, he blamed us much for not having at once thought of so simple an expedient.
About four o'clockP.M.the same day, we came in sight of Astrakhan. I cannot describe our sensations when from a large boat in which we embarked, we beheld the fine panorama of the city, its churches, cupolas, and ruined forts gradually coming forth to the view. Situated in an island of the Volga, its environs are not covered like those of most great cities, with villages and cultivated fields: no, it stands alone, surrounded by water and sand, proud of its sovereignty over the noble river, and of the name of Star of the Desert, with which the poetic imagination of the Orientals has graced it.
We had great difficulty in finding a lodging after we had landed, and though assisted by a police officer, we spent more than two hours in wandering from place to place, everywhere meeting with refusals. We were about cutting short our perplexities by taking refuge in a Persian caravanserai, when chance came to our aid. A Polish lady whom we fell in with, offered us the accommodation of her house, and with such good grace, that we could not hesitate to accept her civility. Besides, our travels in Russia had accustomed us to the sympathy with which every thing French is greeted by the Poles. The last political events have not yet been able to weaken their good will towards us; they regard us as brethren, and are ready to prove it on all occasions.
Except some crown buildings occupied by theemployés, there is nothing in Astrakhan to remind us of its being under foreign sway. The town has completely preserved the Asiatic physiognomy it owes to its climate, its past history, and its diversified population. It is built partly on a hill, partly on the plain, and several of its oldest portions stand on low spots intersected with marshes, and are exposed to very unwholesome exhalations during the summer, after the river floods. A canal with quays runs through its whole length.
My husband's first proceeding after a hurried installation in our new quarters, was to call on M. Fadier, the curator-general of the Kalmucks, and try to obtain apodoroshnias quickly as possible. He came back in an hour, and told me that we were to start that evening in a boat belonging to the admiralty, which was placed at our disposal. The governor, M. Fadier, the port-admiral, and all the superior society of the place were visiting the prince, as we had before been told; but Madame Fadier had been kept at home by indisposition, and that lady, whose name will frequently appear in our reminiscences of Astrakhan, obligingly removed all our difficulties.
We embarked in the evening in the boat, with a crew of six stout Kalmuck rowers and a Tatta pilot. We expected to arrive at the prince's in the morning; but by some unaccountable chance I was seized all at once with a dread that obliged us to halt, in spite of our eager desire to reach our journey's end. The night was very dark, and the river, the waves of which made our boat reel, seemed to me boundless; yet all this was not enough to account for the insurmountable terror that took hold of me so capriciously. Many sea-voyages and long excursions on the Bosphorus in those light caïques that threaten to upset with the slightest movement, ought to have seasoned me against such emotions; but fear is a sentiment that cannot reason, and that comes upon us unawares, without any real danger to justify it. I must add, however, in palliation of my conduct, that the frequent lightning and the heaviness of the atmosphere foretold a storm; and no doubt had something to do with the nervous state in which I found myself.
Be this as it may, I could not rest until I had heard my husband give orders to put back into port, and the sequel proved that this was really the best thing we could do. The night was horrible: one of those terrific squalls that are so frequent and so dangerous on the Volga, came on soon after we landed, and made me bless that terror of which I was at first ashamed, and which I was now tempted to regard as a secret presentiment of the danger that threatened us.
At sunrise next day we set out by the post, and travelled till evening along that river on which I had been so much agitated. Its appearance in the fresh, calm morning was little in accordance with my terror on the preceding day. The weather showed that brilliancy that always follows a storm in southern lands, and our spirits were such as to make our little trip exceedingly agreeable. The postmaster who had annoyed us so much the preceding day, could not help showing great surprise at our reappearance. He examined our newpodoroshniwith scrupulous care, and having satisfied himself that it was quite as it ought to be, he was suddenly seized with great respect for us. The quickness with which we had obtained the paper, was plain proof to him that we were persons of importance.
We left our post-carriage in the evening, and embarked; for we had still a dozen versts to travel on the river before reaching the prince's; but all the phantoms of the previous night had fled before the bright sun, and I stepped gaily into the boat thinking only of the pleasure of a long row over the limpid waves of the Volga. But now a last vexation befel us; one would have fancied some evil genius was amusing himself with baffling all our arrangements, merely for the purpose of preventing our paying that visit on which we were so eagerly bent.
Our whole desire was to arrive at the prince's before the departure of the steamer; for as for the fêtes, we had already given up allthought of them. From what Madame Fadier had told us we were quite at ease, and never doubted but that we should find the whole company assembled in the Kalmuck palace. Fancy our dismay then, when our boatman suddenly called out 'the steamer!' pointing at the same time to a light smoke that rose above the trees. I am not very prone to superstition, but this obvious fatality was too much for my philosophy. Here was the best part of the pleasure we had anticipated from this unlucky trip, struck from us at one blow, and that at the very moment when we flattered ourselves we had overcome all obstacles! the steamer passed proudly and triumphantly at a little distance from us, with its joyous music that seemed to insult our disappointment, and our poor little boat, tossed about like a nutshell by the surge of the confounded vessel, had not even the honour of being seen at first. Some one at last condescended to notice us; a telescope was pointed in our direction, and we afterwards learned that our appearance gave rise to a multitude of conjectures, which, of course, were solved only in Astrakhan.
Nothing remained for us but to bear our fate with philosophical composure; and we did so with the confident belief that luck, which had hitherto run so decidedly against us, must soon take a turn in our favour. Forgetting, therefore, the steamboat, its music, and its brilliant company, we applied all our attention to the spectacle before us, which was certainly much better worth seeing than the prosaic steamer.
The little island belonging to Prince Tumene stands alone in the middle of the river. From a distance it looks like a nest of verdure resting on the waves, and waiting only a breath of wind to send it floating down the rapid course of the Volga; but, as you advance, the land unfolds before you, the trees form themselves into groups, and the prince's palace displays a portion of its white façade, and the open galleries of its turrets. Every object assumes a more decided and more picturesque form, and stands out in clear relief, from the cupola of the mysterious pagoda which you see towering above the trees, to the humble kibitka glittering in the magic tints of sunset. The landscape, as it presented itself successively to our eyes, with the unruffled mirror of the Volga for its framework, wore a calm, but strange and profoundly melancholy character. It was like nothing we had ever seen before; it was a new world which fancy might people as it pleased; one of those mysterious isles one dreams of at fifteen after reading the "Arabian Nights;" a thing, in short, such as crosses the traveller's path but once in all his wanderings, and which we enjoyed with all the zest of unexpected pleasure. But we were soon called back from all these charming phantoms of the imagination to the realities of life? we were arrived. Our boatman moored his little craft in a clump of thornbroom; and whilst my husband proceeded to the palace with his interpreter, I remained in the boat, divided between the pleasure I anticipated from theextraordinary things to be seen in a Kalmuck palace, and the involuntary apprehension awakened in me by all the incidents of this visit.
The latter feeling did not last long. Not many minutes had elapsed after the departure of my companions, when I saw them returning with a young man, who was presented to me as one of the princes Tumene. It was with equal elegance and good breeding he introduced me to the palace, where every step brought me some new surprise. I was quite unprepared for what I saw; and really in passing through two salons which united the most finished display of European taste with the gorgeousness of Asia, on being suddenly accosted by a young lady who welcomed me in excellent French, I felt such a thrill of delight, that I could only answer by embracing her heartily! In this manner an acquaintance is quickly made.
The room where we took tea was soon filled with Russian and Cossack officers, guests of the prince's, and thus assumed a European aspect which we had not at all expected after the departure of the steamer. But was this what we had come to see? was it to look at Russian officers, and articles of furniture of well known fashion, to take caravan tea off a silver tray, and talk French, that we had left Astrakhan? These reflections soon yielded to the secret pleasure of meeting the image of Europe even among the Kalmucks, and being able without the aid of a dragoman to testify to the charming Polish lady who did the honours of the drawing-room, the gratification her presence afforded us. The old Prince Tumene, the head of the family, joined us by and by, and thanked us with the most exquisite politeness for our obliging visit.
After the first civilities were over, I was conducted to a very handsome chamber, with windows opening on a large verandah. I found in it a toilette apparatus in silver, very elegant furniture, and many objects both rare and precious. My surprise augmented continually as I beheld this aristocratic sumptuousness. In vain I looked for any thing that could remind me of the Kalmucks; nothing around me had a tinge ofcouleur locale; all seemed rather to bespeak the abode of a rich Asiatic nabob; and with a little effort of imagination, I might easily have fancied myself transported into the marvellous world of the fairies, as I beheld that magnificent palace encircled with water, with its exterior fretted all over with balconies and fantastic ornaments, and its interior all filled with velvets, tapestries, and crystals, as though the touch of a wand had made all these wonders start from the bosom of the Volga! And what completed the illusion was the thought that the author of these prodigies was a Kalmuck prince, a chief of those half-savage tribes that wander over the sandy plains of the Caspian Sea, a worshipper of the Grand Lama, a believer in the metempsychosis; in short, one of those beings whose existence seems to us almost fabulous, such a host of mysterious legends do their names awaken in the mind.
Madame Zakarevitch soon made me acquainted with all I wishedto know respecting the princes Tumene and herself. Her husband, who had long been curator of the Kalmucks, died some years ago, a victim to the integrity with which he discharged his office. The employés, enraged at not being able to rob at their ease, combined together to have him brought to trial and persecuted him to his last moment with their base intrigues. His wife, who has all the impassioned character of the Poles, has ever since been actively engaged in vindication of his memory, devoting time, money, and toilsome journeys, with admirable perseverance to that sacred task. A friendship of long standing subsists between her and Prince Tumene, with whose daughter and a lady companion she usually passes part of the summer.
Prince Tumene is the wealthiest and most influential of all the Kalmuck chiefs. In 1815 he raised a regiment at his own expense, and led it to Paris, for which meritorious service he was rewarded with numerous decorations. He has now the rank of colonel, and he was the first of this nomade people who exchanged his kibitka for an European dwelling. Absolute master in his own family (among the Kalmucks the same respect is paid to the eldest brother as to the father), he employs his authority only for the good of those around him. He possesses about a million deciatines of land, and several hundred families, from which he derives a considerable revenue. His race, which belongs to the tribe of the Koshots, is one of the most ancient and respected among the Kalmucks. Repeatedly tried by severe afflictions, his mind has taken an exclusively religious bent, and the superstitious practices to which he devotes himself give him a great reputation for sanctity among his countrymen. An isolated pavilion at some distance from the palace is his habitual abode, where he passes his life in prayer and religious conference with the most celebrated priests of the country. No one but these latter is allowed admission into his mysterious sanctuary; even his brothers have never entered it. This is assuredly a singular mode of existence, especially if we compare it with that which he might lead amidst the splendour and conveniences with which he has embellished his palace, and which betoken a cast of thought far superior to what we should expect to find in a Kalmuck. This voluntary sacrifice of earthly delights, this asceticism caused by moral sufferings, strikingly reminds us of Christianity and the origin of our religious orders. Like the most fervent Catholics, this votary of Lama seeks in solitude, prayer, austerity, and the hope of another life, consolations which all his fortune is powerless to afford him! Is not this the history of many a Trappist or Carthusian?
The position of the palace is exquisitely chosen, and shows a sense of the beautiful as developed as that of the most civilised nations. It is built in the Chinese style, and is prettily seated on the gentle slope of a hill about a hundred feet from the Volga. Its numerous galleries afford views over every part of the isle, and the imposing surface of the river. From one of the angles the eye looks down on amass of foliage, through which glitter the cupola and golden ball of the pagoda. Beautiful meadows, dotted over with clumps of trees, and fields in high cultivation, unfold their carpets of verdure on the left of the palace, and form different landscapes which the eye can take in at once. The whole is enlivened by the presence of Kalmuck horsemen, camels wandering here and there through the rich pastures, and officers conveying the chief's orders from tent to tent. It is a beautiful spectacle, various in its details, and no less harmonious in its assemblage.
After learning the reasons why we had not arrived two days sooner, Madame Zakarevitch very agreeably surprised us with the assurance that it was the prince's intention to have thefêtesrepeated for us. Couriers had already been despatched to bring back the priests who had been engaged in the solemnities of the occasion, in order that we might have an opportunity of seeing their religious ceremonies. The day being now far advanced, we spent the remainder of it in visiting the palace in detail, and resting from the fatigues of our journey.
At an early hour next day, Madame Zakarevitch came to accompany us to the prince's sister-in-law, who, during the fine season, resides in the kibitka in preference to the palace. Nothing could be more agreeable to us than this proposal. At last then I was about to see Kalmuck manners and customs without any foreign admixture. On the way I learned that the princess was renowned among her people for extreme beauty and accomplishments, besides many other details which contributed further to augment my curiosity. We formed a tolerably large party when we reached her tent, and as she had been informed of our intended visit, we enjoyed, on entering, a spectacle that far surpassed our anticipations. When the curtain at the doorway of the kibitka was raised, we found ourselves in a rather spacious room, lighted from above, and hung with red damask, the reflection from which shed a glowing tint on every object; the floor was covered with a rich Turkey carpet, and the air was loaded with perfumes. In this balmy atmosphere and crimson light we perceived the princess seated on a low platform at the further end of the tent, dressed in glistening robes, and as motionless as an idol. Some twenty women in full dress, sitting on their heels, formed a strange and parti-coloured circle round her. It was like nothing I could compare it to but an opera scene suddenly got up on the banks of the Volga. When the princess had allowed us time enough to admire her, she slowly descended the steps of the platform, approached us with dignity, took me by the hand, embraced me affectionately, and led me to the place she had just left. She did the same by Madame Zakarevitch and her daughter, and then graciously saluting the persons who accompanied us, she motioned them to be seated on a large divan opposite the platform. No mistress of a house in Paris could have done better. When every one had found a place, she sat down beside me, and through themedium of an Armenian, who spoke Russian and Kalmuck extremely well, she made me a thousand compliments, that gave me a very high opinion of her capacity. With the Armenian's assistance we were able to put many questions to each other, and notwithstanding the awkwardness of being obliged to have recourse to an interpreter, the conversation was far from growing languid, so eager was the princess for information of every kind. The Armenian, who was a merry soul, constituted himself, of his own authority, grand master of the ceremonies, and commenced his functions by advising the princess to give orders for the opening of the ball. Immediately upon a sign from the latter, one of the ladies of honour rose and performed a few steps, turning slowly upon herself; whilst another, who remained seated, drew forth from a balalaika (an Oriental guitar) some melancholy sounds, by no means appropriate to the occasion. Nor were the attitudes and movements of her companion more accordant with our notions of dancing. They formed a pantomime, the meaning of which I could not ascertain, but which, by its languishing monotony, expressed any thing but pleasure or gaiety. The youngfigurantefrequently stretched out her arms and knelt down as if to invoke some invisible being. The performance lasted a considerable time, during which I had full opportunity to scrutinise the princess, and saw good reason to justify the high renown in which her beauty was held among her own people. Her figure is imposing, and extremely well-proportioned, as far as her numerous garments allowed me to judge. Her mouth, finely arched and adorned with beautiful teeth, her countenance, expressive of great sweetness, her skin, somewhat brown, but remarkably delicate, would entitle her to be thought a very handsome woman, even in France, if the outline of her face and the arrangement of her features were only a trifle less Kalmuck. Nevertheless, in spite of the obliquity of her eyes and the prominence of her cheek-bones, she would still find many an admirer, not in Kalmuckia alone, but all the world over. Her looks convey an expression of the utmost gentleness and good-nature, and like all the women of her race, she has an air of caressing humility, which makes her appearance still more winning.
Now for her costume. Over a very rich robe of Persian stuff, laced all over with silver, she wore a light silk tunic, reaching only to the knee and open in front. The high corsage was quite flat, and glittered with silver embroidery and fine pearls that covered all the seams. Round her neck she had a white cambric habit shirt, the shape of which seemed to me like that of a man's shirt collar. It was fastened in front by a diamond button. Her very thick, deep black hair fell over her bosom in two magnificent tresses of remarkable length. A yellow cap, edged with rich fur, and resembling in shape the square cap of a French judge, was set jauntily on the crown of her head. But what surprised me most in her costume was an embroidered cambric handkerchief and a pair of black mittens. Thus, it appears, the productions of our workshops find theirway even to the toilette of a great Kalmuck lady. Among the princess's ornaments I must not forget to enumerate a large gold chain, which, after being wound round her beautiful tresses, fell over her bosom, passing on its way through her gold earrings. Her whole attire, such as I have described it, looked much less barbarous than I had expected. The ladies of honour, though less richly clad, wore robes and caps of the same form; only they had not advanced so far as to wear mittens.
The dancing lady, after figuring for half an hour, went and touched the shoulder of one of her companions, who took her place, and began the same figures over again. When she had done, the Armenian urged the princess that her daughter, who until then had kept herself concealed behind a curtain, should also give a specimen of her skill; but there was a difficulty in the case. No lady of honour had a right to touch her, and this formality was indispensable according to established usage. Not to be baffled by this obstacle, the Armenian sprang gaily into the middle of the circle, and began to dance in so original a manner, that every one enthusiastically applauded. Having thus satisfied the exigency of Kalmuck etiquette, he stepped up to the curtain and laid his finger lightly on the shoulder of the young lady, who could not refuse an invitation thus made in all due form. Her dancing appeared to us less wearisome than that of the ladies of honour, thanks to her pretty face and her timid and languishing attitudes. She in her turn touched her brother, a handsome lad of fifteen, dressed in the Cossack costume, who appeared exceedingly mortified at being obliged to put a Kalmuck cap on his head, in order to exhibit the dance in all its nationality. Twice he dashed his cap on the ground with a most comical air of vexation; but his mother rigidly insisted on his putting it on again.
The dancing of the men is as imperious and animated as that of the women is tame and monotonous; the spirit of domination displays itself in all their gestures, in the bold expression of their looks and their noble bearing. It would be impossible for me to describe all the evolutions the young prince went through with equal grace and rapidity. The elasticity of his limbs was as remarkable as the perfect measure observed in his complicated steps.
After the ball came the concert. The women played one after the other on the balalaika, and then sang in chorus. But there is as little variety in their music as in their dancing. At last we were presented with different kinds of koumis and sweetmeats on large silver trays.